I don't believe in resolutions, but my goal for this new year is to learn how to make jewellery. I don't mean beading shit, I mean straight up soldering and molding and hardcore stuff. I don't really have a hobby and I think this could be a productive and lucrative one. We'll see how it goes.

It's been six years (or so) since I quit soccer. I recently started reminiscing about it when Tyler and I were talking and he said, "You know, if I ever have a kid, and they play hockey, I'm not going to make them play during the summer." It spiked my curiosity and he said "It's just too much, you have to give the kid a break. Put them in another sport, but don't make them go to camps or anything." (Apparently Wayne Gretsky said that.) And that got me thinking about soccer. My year consisted of outdoor soccer May - October. Soccer camps in the summer. Provincial team practices. Premier team practices. Indoor soccer. And when I wasn't doing that, I'd be at the gym in the racquet ball courts kicking a ball against the wall. Why? Well, I couldn't really tell you. Eventually I said fuck it to the provincial team. The main reason why I liked soccer so much was the girls I played with. But on the provincial team, I didn't like anyone, other than my other teammates from Premier. That eased up the pressure placed on me. But, I can't help but think that if I had just played premier, avoided everything else, I might still enjoy it. But now, I can't even think about kicking a ball around. It doesn't interest me in the slightest. I've been asked to play senior women, but I have absolutely no desire to. And that's kind of sad. It's like when you eat too much of the same thing and you can't stand it anymore. That's what soccer's like to me.

I do blame my Dad for some of those feelings. I mean, he was my coach and pushed me into all of these things. I remember one time we were in a summer tournament, we had an hour warm up before the game even began. Before everyone got there we'd get in a circle and play 'keepie-up.' I wasn't totally into it at the beginning, just passing the ball off quickly. I don't remember if I was tired (probably was) or what was going through my head at the time, but I was slow to get into it. Well, he didn't like that. He kicked the ball at me, harder than necessary. That moment, I snapped. My eyes just welled up with tears and I stormed off to the parents side and sat there, refusing to play the game. That began the great downfall. We lost the provincial championship that year, didn't go to nationals, and that September we all got together and decided not to continue into the winter. That was it. It was over.

Today, I quit my job, paid off the entirety of my mastercard, and realized I have more money in my bank accounts than I thought. Not a bad, not bad at all.

So, three more days until I'm tattooed. Can you believe it? Because I sure can't. In high school, I couldn't wait to get a tattoo. But I'm happy I waited three years to get something that I really wanted. This is not something I will ever regret. I love my baby more than life itself. I just hope Rich follows through. I mean, he's a very talented artist, I'm just nervous that I'm going to look at it and realize, that's not my cat. Ahh.. hopefully not. I've already got my next two planned out as well. Yikes.

So, life has been humdrum other than the tattooage. My parents and Tyler's parents now get together. We all went out to Arborg for Tyler's birthday. It's weird, and very grown up feeling. It still kind of freaks me out. I'm extremely excited for this month to be over and done with. One more month until Tyler and I are in Scotland. I hope we don't kill each other... and hopefully, by the end of summer, I will be the proud owner of a Suzuki SX4. And then me and Dainna can road trip it uppp. LA here we come.

I've been stagnant since I can remember.

I feel like the goal is inches from my fingertips, and I just keep biting my nails.

Gawd, I hate life right now. I know I shouldn't say that because I do believe that your life is directly influenced by you, and if I feel like I hate life, then my life is in essence, going to hate me. But fuck, I hate life. I'm like, 80% sure I'm going to be fired. Yeahhh. Despite the fact that I worked my ass off all of last year, came over to this store when no one else could, dealt with shit from previous owners and no organization in this store whatsoever, worked my ass off all through Christmas, was told I'd get the manager position, or at least a raise... and did any of that happen? Nope. I feel so taken advantage of. I mean, at this point, I don't give a fuck. I stopped wanting to be manager a long time ago. I was ready to leave before any of this shit started happening. I'm just pissed because a) I worked my ass off and Kelly (DM) told me I would get a raise, and told me I'd be manager, and b) She fucking posts job ads without even mentioning it to me. I mean, I'm going to find out eventually. It's not the secret, it's the secret keeping, you know? And, I know for a fact we have a set amount of hours we can use in a week, and we are at that amount. We don't have any hours for an extra person. So if she's hiring a manager, that means she's going to fire someone. And there really isn't a need for a manager and an assistant manager here. So who gets the boot? Yeah. Fuck. I'm not even pissed about that, since I'm planning on leaving anyway.. it's just like, a slap in the face. Whatever. I guess this is an awakening that I should probably start making a career for myself. 

I'm determined to make this an awesome year, anyway. I mean, I'm getting a tattoo in 22 days. March 27th. Fuck. I'm so stoked on that you don't even know. And then May 2-16 I'll be in Scotland for my 21st birthday. That's going to be epic. And then, I'm planning on another tattoo in June. And then hopefully buying a car in the fall/winter. That's the plan. I just need to start saving my bones off. 

I can be an asshole sometimes, I really can. I don't even realize it. I am just stuck in my own brain sometimes. I'm sorry.

The human soul is such a funny thing. It is not visible to the human eye, and scientists cannot prove it exists, but we all know we can't survive without one. It's a magical thing of sorts, I suppose, because it makes us who we are and determines our lifes path.

Our souls radiate our emotions wherever we go. A room full of people could be happy and joyful, but then enters the one soul with turmoil and sadness swirling inside. Even if that person has a smile on their face, you can feel it. You would know instantly something was not right.

I seem to have become a human sponge. Whatever comes my way, I feel it and absorb it. I can't really help it, its my nature I guess. When I sense that something is not right, well then I feel it all over and my mood becomes the same as theirs. I think it is more so for the ones I care about. I feel what they feel, so I know what is going on inside their heart and their soul. I want to fix things, but I know I can't, so at least I try to understand. You can't always understand though. I actually think that I understand more than anyone knows, I just don't like to admit or show it.

I think the one emotion that is like a disease to our soul, is fear. A small amount of it is ok, especially when keeping us in line, but its unhealthy in large doses, because we start to lose control and our skew on reality. I am guilty of that. I can get a little too sensitive sometimes. When I get a little too full of emotion, I start to read into things the wrong way and prepare for the worst. I see something shiny, I assume its a bomb waiting to go off and I hide in the bomb shelter waiting for it all to end. There was never a bomb in the first place, it was only a glare from the sun. I have been trying to work on that. It's not easy.

Sometimes I'm scared that I'm not perfect. I'm scared that even though the world is an imperfect place that I, myself, have not reached the standards I have made for myself. I am worried that I'm not good enough and that in the end I will inevitably fail.

And I ask myself... what's perfect? In the mind of a perfectionist it's much more than just a word. It's a mindset that you must do and say and move a certain way. That is how the world must be. Exact.

I find myself bound by the thought of perfection. Bound by the unwritten rules inside my mind that everything I do must be precisely beautiful in every way.

Even just a single word must be over-analyzed until it's so worn out it falls apart before my eyes. At that point is when I realize that I'm worrying myself so sick that my stomach has turned into a million knots and that raging sea inside myself has crashed a thousand times against my heart., weakening it just a little more.

And sometimes I wonder how long I can take the pressure. The pressure building up inside of me. I wonder what will happen when I've reached my breaking point and how much it will hurt when I snap in two.

And then the minute hand flies into another day that brings me a new train of thought. That maybe I just can't be perfect. And that sometimes you must let yourself go. You must untie the ropes of perfection that hold you down and fly away from the thoughts that you must be a certain way. That sometimes you just need to close your eyes and fall off the ledge you have climbed upon and let yourself fall into the unknown.

Sometimes I'm scared that I'm not perfect. But now I see that sometimes... imperfection is beautiful.

So I am quitting F&P. Not yet, but when I do it will be glorious. Probably not for at least another month. The company has been nothing but a hassle lately and has in general, treated me like a second class citizen. My district manager has dangled pay raises and promotions in front of me for 6 months now. I can live fine off what I make, but I can't save. I can't buy a car. I can't do any of the things I want to do. I've always said this is a job, not a career, and I need to start living by that. I'm going to spend spring/summer working for my parents, making a lot more money.. and then hopefully save enough to buy a car in the fall. That's the plan anyway.

I try not to preach and push my beliefs on people, I'm a pretty tolerant person. But fuck, would it kill you to spend an extra 2$ and buy organic free run chicken eggs? I don't think so. The human race is so fucking selfish. Not even with animal rights. But with what we do to our planet, and to each other. We think we rule the goddamn world and do whatever we want as long as it pleases us. Heaven forbid we stop to think about what our actions are doing. I mean honestly, is it not sick that we chain something up, not letting it move it's entire life, not letting it fucking see sunlight, just so it's more tender when its on our plate? That makes me sick to my fucking stomach. 

Blah..

I don't usually get three days off a week, but due to the painfully slow days we've been having at work, I had to cut back hours, including my own. So I had today off as well. I took full advantage by sleeping till noon. Granted I was up until 3:30. I picked up the car from my mom and myself and Tyler went grocery shopping. When you first live on your own, you can't fathom how much a grocery bill can cost. We usually spend 230$ every, two weeks. That's a lot of 'effing money! Fuck the global economy and 6$ Pineapples. 

You Never Notice...

I'd say it's about time to get out of the comfy groove I've made for myself and accomplish more. Instead of just simply coasting by, which I so willingly have done as of late, I want to actually do something. Maybe even exceed expectations. It's time to take more pictures, see more people, make more friends, show more love to people. I guess you could call it a resolution if you believe in that stuff, I don't. 

Also, my weekly resolution, is to stand up straighter. Man, I'm such a hunchback.

Backend Of Forever

I don't know where to begin. I've had this window open on my screen for a solid twenty minutes and I really have no idea where to begin or what to say, but I've just had this sudden urge to write my thoughts down.

I've been spending my evenings cleaning. Organizing. Decorating. Planning. I read somewhere that if you live in a place that is disorganized, your life will be unorganized. But if you live in a nice tidy place, your life will follow suit. So that's what I'm doing I guess. I'm such a pack rat, it's sick. But I can't justify giving away a 250$ shirt just because I've never worn it. I suppose I never should have bought that shirt in the first place if I never planned to wear it. But I'm an impulse/emotional shopper. Sue me. So even though my feet swelled because of standing all day and half my shoes don't fit anymore, I still pray that one day they will. Because I love them. I really do. 

Anyway, I want to get my life back on track. We bought a treadmill and I barely even use it (oops!). So I'm going to do that more (hopefully). And I noticed something that really scared me. Someone over Christmas whom I've never met before asked me what I did. And I replied, "Oh, I'm a manager at Fruits & Passion." Granted, I AM a manager at Fruits & Passion... but that's not what I do. And the fact that that's my answer to that question now scares the fuck out of me. That's what pays my bills. But that's not what I do. I'm supposed to be a make-up artist. So that's what I need to do. I need to get back into it. I've got lost along the way of bills and rent but I need to get back to what I love doing.

I don't think I'll ever understand the hype around the New Year. Maybe next year I'll pretend I'm really psyched and wear a sparkly dress and drink champagne and wear stupid 2010 glasses and a headband that says Happy New Year. But probably not. 2008 ruled, I'm ready to do it again.