Drowning (the metaphorical kind)

I like to hide.  I'm under the extreme illusion that hiding is safe, burrowed down like a little mole.  I cover myself in books and blankets and a few layers of rough dirt just to be sure.  Down in the dark, choking on compost, with knotted roots, earth worms and forgotton knickknacks, nobody can see me, interrupt me, disturb me.  I can't be affected.
What I fail to realize is that I'm not hiding, I'm buried.  Lifeless, six feet under.

It's been said many a time that I seem to be a sweet hippy girl of sunshine and floral prints, and I am.  Yet, similar to any good law of physics, I'm a creature of opposites.  I'm soft and fiery, intelligent and forgetful, bright and macabre.  I can't help but smile when I'm angry and crave lip piercings and purple hair.  I hum along to Amos Lee and cook to Bring Me The Horizon.  I knit scarves, whip homemade buttercream frosting and collect boxes and bags of tea (chocolate chai, blueberry green, mint).  I cuss my mouth blue, suck down tequila and yell at movie heroes to die horrible deaths.  I don't know what I'm doing half the time because I'm torn, seams ripping, ribs fracturing, between the sweet and happy and tough and dark parts of my psyche.

It's been impossible to reconcile the two images I have of myself: The first me that wears sundresses, white sandals and permanent toothy smiles and dances through grassy fields at sunset.  The second me that smirks, one eyebrow raised, through dagger sharp remarks and drinks clear liquor out of water bottles at punk shows.
How could those two personalities ever be friends nevertheless the same person?  How can other be people be friends with that person, with me?

So I hide.  I melt in to the corner of the couch, read twelve books, pile dishes in the sink and fuel myself with gallons of coffee.  Jon has stopped trying to approach me gently, no longer quietly rapping on my book covers for attention but yelling "I miss you!  Why won't you talk to me?  Pay attention to me.  Put down your books."  I give him dirty looks and lift the pages up higher over my eyebrows.

Its easier to slouch back in to corners than to embrace the possibility of things that hurt like rejection and disappointment.  Except this is completely illogical and, ironically, it really hurts.  So I just become disappointed in myself, and it's a vicious cycle of hurting then hiding to just hurt and hide some more.


I need to get the fuck over this.

Breaking news.

I may have just finished two of my classes for the semester.
Okay, so I did finish two classes.
THIS IS HUGE.

I have five weeks of other assignments and three finals to complete, but these two finished classes are giving me that necessary push to not fail at life.  Because, ya know, I've been slumped in the couch reading romance novels for the past two weeks.  I also participated in some shenanigans this weekend that I'll talk about later, but most of my time has been dedicated to drinking coffee and reading about insta-love connections and soul mates.

I can't wait to be done with this semester for good.  Sigh.

Avoidance and other things.

It's time to buckle down and do some homework...so of course I'm writing.

I'm writing and being pissed at my husband (don't ask) and eating chocolate covered coffee beans (gotta stay awake, yo!) and watching the movie Rent.  ...avoiding homework and living the dream.  Who wants to research picture archiving and communication systems anyways?  NOT this girl, no.  THIS is much better.

Sigh.  It doesn't get much better than leather-jacket-love.

By the way, what is it with super theatrical movies and me staying up late?  First it was Alice in Wonderland (the new one), then it was The Phantom of the Opera, and now its Rent.  Let's just chalk it up to good taste, shall we?


I don't know, man.  I had such a good day bullshitting with the husband and cleaning up random shit around the house, and now I'm just feeling it.  The bad IT.  The IT that makes you want to stuff your face with old holiday candy, curl up like a blanket burrito on the couch and watch movies like Rent and Love Actually.  Even with work tomorrow, I might still do this.  I'm obvious a really super cool mature adult because us fancy people totally do things like stay up later eating sugar and watching random shit.  I'll get far in life.

I mean, it was a GOOD day!  AFN played Frozen, I'm eating damn chocolate covered coffee beans and my dog is fucking adorable.  But sometimes it, that bad bad feeling, just happens and I've got to learn to accept that I guess.  I'm not broken, but neither am I obligated to feel happy-go-lucky all the freaking time, especially when I'm pretty frustrated with that man I'm in some weird long-term relationship with.  I think they call this marriage, but I've been a bit confused since this ain't no Cinderella shit.  That's actually what I love about marriage, it ain't perfect and its gritty and takes a lot of serious work if its real; I think happy endings are so much better if you have to work for it.  But sometimes it'd be nice to have some pretty roses and fireworks going off in the background, or even just the dishes put away.  


Tomorrow I'll try to edit and post up those pictures from my trip to Garmisch, but no promises.  I've been putting off this stupid, stupid, stupid 6 page paper that's due tomorrow, and did I mention that it's due tomorrow? 

I've decided that I want to write, so I'm going to write.  I haven't wanted to until lately, but something's been happening (not sure what, honestly) that's kind of been nudging me to start writing things out again.  Like really putting things down on this virtual paper and feeling things through.  That's what writing does, for me at least, it helps me feel things, totally and completely, which is probably why I avoid it.  Sometimes it's tricky to feel things.

For the past however-many months, I've felt as though life is spinning out of control on it's own.  I haven't been able to decide what I want to do, when I want to do it or who I want to do it with, and it's been kind of devastating in a way.  I like to have control and independence, but I haven't had much of either lately.  I feel like I've had to bend to whatever comes through just to make sure that the husband and I make it in this thing called life.

I don't want to it to be like that anymore, the bending and twisting so much that I don't know what I actually look like anymore.  I want to be myself.  I want to decide things for myself, even if that means putting down the cake and grabbing a carrot, or giving in to my my random hippie tendancies like universal love and unbrushed hair, because I want to choose the better option; I want to choose a good life for me.  I can serve people allllll I want to, but this life will feel wasted if I look back on it and wonder where Jenni was through the whole thing.  Yes, I made sure the house was clean and food was on the table, and that I graduated from college, and that people at work liked me, and my friends invited me to things, but was I present through any of that?  Because that's what matters.  Not how many people like me, or if I get a 4.0, or if my legs look awesome in a pair of shorts.  Yeah, I'd sure as hell really like those things, but they won't make this life, the only one I've got (yolo!) WORTH it.  Ya know what I mean?


So here I am, being present.  I'm writing again and working my butt off at school and work; I'm having some delicious vegetables for dinner my hair hasn't been brushed in a week (by the way, amazing!  who decided that we have to brush our hair anyways?).  Badass, go-getter, hippie Jenni is back and it's starting to feel so.damn.good.

From Pinterest

 

 

Right now I'm in Garmisch for work.  It's quite gorgeous actually.  I took some pics with my fancy camera and will upload them once I get home.  These military computer people are quite big sticklers about removable storage devices.  LAME...though not really because I get it, it's the military, blah blah blah.

 

 

 

It's been lonely being here, and it's kind of been nice to be lonely.

 

Jon and I have been in such a good place lately that I really, really miss him.  It's not like we're not used to absences from each other.  I mean, he's in a training unit in the military, he's gone all the freakin' time.  But maybe it's different now because I'm the one that's gone, and that's weird.

 

But I'm also liking doing things just for me.  No compromise about what to watch on tv, or where/when is convenient to do homework, or working out early in the morning.  Maybe it's messed up that I have to compromise on those things at all when I'm at home, but it's how things work for us right now and so it's okay.  And because that's how things are, it's nice to be temporarily be someplace where that's how things aren't.

 

 

To conclude, I'm making a two and a half hour drive back home after work.  It's gonna' suck.

Catch up.

Happy Monday, future Jenni and everybody who doesn't read this blog!

JK...to the former, not the latter.  This Monday won't be happy until there's about two more gallons of coffee flowing through my system.  Workin' on it.  The shoppette (aka cheap gas station store thing on post) has some cheap version of pumpkin spice coffee and I'm sucking that shit down like water, or booze.  Pick your poison.

Time to share some good vibes for the start of this week!  Get happy, mah peoples!

 

 

All images pulled from Pinterest.  Please refer to link for image sources.

Now, let's catch up.

- I'm 22.  Its a big deal, don't get it twisted.  My birthday was filled with delicious food and copious amounts of alcohol.  Do I remember most of the night?  No.  Was it amazing?  Hell yes.  Youngins, don't learn from me.  Alcohol is really bad for you and will make hair grow on your chest.

- Three more weeks until this semester is over!

- It snowed.  Winter is here.  Wah wah.  If I wasn't such a chicken about driving in crappy weather then I might feel a bit more positive about this development.

 

 

Landscaping pro, obvs.

 - Close friend, who I have talked a little about on here previously, and I are no longer friends.  Not my choice, and truly for the best.  Obviously she was at her wits end with something, though I'm not sure what since there was no communication at all, and I was almost there myself.  I hate to sound lame and cliche but good damn riddance.

 - I'm hosting my first ever Thanksgiving meal this week.  It'll just be me and ten "gentlemen" aka guys focused on beer.  How is there ever going to be enough food?  Idk, don't ask me, I'll let you know later.

Somebody bring me some more coffee.  Bitte (please)?

XO, Jenni

Hard times and simple joys.

Yesterday, in a word, sucked.  It was true Monday Madness.

I'm not the type to air out dirty laundry, especially when it doesn't just involve myself, but let's just say that things at work aren't okay; being blamed for something that's not your fault by people you thought were friends is not fun.  A coworker I consider one of my best friends even came to my desk just to yell at me.  And though I don't have to go to work today, I'm counting on being shamed more when I go back tomorrow.  Whoopee.

That's why I thought it was appropriate to make-up Monday's Inspiration today!  There's never a bad time to bring some more positivity in to this world.  And its so important that, even through those times in which bad things are unjustly happening to you and you feel more alone than ever, you hold your head high and continue sharing love.

All images pulled from Tumblr.  Sources unknown.

Why does it seem that its during the tough, lonely times that we tend to find simple joys and build a strong sense of self?  Though, maybe it's just me.

Today's simple joys:

Watching Mirror Mirror (LOVE Lily Collins and the styling is ridic)

Working on homework

Drinking coffee

Doing laundry (better than lighting a candle)

Loving on my dog

Keep holding on, lovelies.  New beautiful things are waiting right around the corner.  And go find the simple joys, you won't regret it.

XO, Jenni

Can I just take a nap right here?

Just at my desk?  For a few minutes?  Please say yes!
I have one of the only problems in the world that coffee can not solve...

Men, cover your ears.  Or eyes?  Whatev.  It's about to get really (not) lady-like up in here.


It's been one of those days, and weeks, that just ultimately sucks.  I'm bloated, and moody, and grumpy, and freakin' exhausted.

Have a guess yet?

Yeah, that really crappy time known by some well-seasoned women as a "period" is here.

A week of feeling like I'm going out of my mind because I've cried three times in the past hour, I'm breaking out in places I didn't even know had pores and all I dream about is floating on a chocolate donut in a pool of mac n cheese.

Jon gets really tired of the crying.
Bought the wrong thing?  Cry.  Tickles Me?  Cry.  Morning tea?  Cry.

If this sucks so bad, I don't even want to imagine what pregnancy is going to be like. *shudder*

Tonight will probably consist of some homemade nachos and watching Alice in Wonderland on repeat to soothe my aching ovaries.

 

Anybody have awesome remedies for this lady hangover, aka aunt flow, aka the week of death?

Love y’all.
Get it right, get it tight.

Oh yeah, wait, rapping is not my day job.
A girl can dream.

Step by Step

First of all, I'm not sure if you guys know but I'm an artist.

Jon came home, looked at the painting and, before even taking off his boots, asked "Did you really paint that?"  Why yes, babe, I really really did.  Then he asked me about two or three more times if I really painted it.  YES babe, I REALLY painted it, my initials are on the back.  "I can paint my initials on anything, that doesn't mean you painted it."  Oh my gosh.

Apparently I'm that good.
Though some girls thought their tree branches were coming out to look a lot like a certain part of the male anatomy, if you know what I mean.

***

Thanks for putting up with my lack of blogging.
Somehow I got stuck in a big, deep hole of depression.  I might have just gotten worn out working full time, trying to ace school and keep up the house.  Really, I think I got caught up trying to keep up appearances and lost my energy and myself for a while.  But little steps are bringing me back and it feels so good.  We're hanging in there.

Step 1.
Try new things.  Like group painting classes on post, evidenced above.  SO much fun, especially because they gave us free food and offered alcohol.  I'm probably heading over to play softball this Thursday, too.

Step 2.
Walk the pup every day.  We do this after dinner when the sun is setting and the heat is dissipating; it's gorgeous out.  I can't wait to take out my fancy camera and play around with taking some shots.  And you can't beat having such a cute model as this sweet thing, I can just never get over him (the blonde one, not the red head):

 My two big babies.

Step 3.
Eat well.  I'm planning our meals, pre-cooking chicken and quinoa, taking veggies to work and drinking tea instead of coffee (suffering on this one).  It's all about changing your mentality to change your health.  I've been using this uh-mazing app called Recovery Record to help change my thinking towards food and eating, try it out!

 Pre-cooking chicken in a little chicken broth and seasonings for lunches.

  

Step 4.

Really enjoy time with friends.  Johana and I, after painting trees and belting out song after song in the car on the way home, sat outside by the fire, drank "watermelon juice" (aka watermelon arizona iced tea and malibu, aka delish) and laughed so.much.

Serena and Blair.

***

I feel better with structure, and I feel better when I'm not giving 100% to everybody with nothing left for myself.

So I'm cleaning and organizing, and I'm staying strong while taking care of myself.

It's a weird in-between phase so please bear with me.

We'll all be okay.  Right?  Right. :-)

Honesty

Be on the lookout, a new real post is coming soon.

In this mean time between posts, I've been tired and depressed and lost in huge quantities of homework that I'm unable to finish.  Even though the weather has been the perfect mixture of yellow sunshine and grey rain, I've had little desire to get out of bed or even drink coffee.  The latter is totally a shocker, I know.

But I've been dying to share how Spring is finally settling in to these (mostly stupid) Bavarian hills, and how cute my dog still is, and how pretty the flowers are that I stole from over my neighbor's fence.

Stay tuned.

Listen to the tea.

I'm a murderer.

I have absolutely no "green thumb" anywhere on my body.  In fact, my thumb is decidedly very white, the pale color of death maybe?  After the life has been slowly leached out of the victim's form, like manslaughter, only this time the victim is some randomly blooming kind-of-green thing.

Poor thing.

Apparently I can't take care of walls either because not pictured to the right of the thing is a few pieces of chalky white cement that have fallen out of the kitchen wall.  No idea.  Suddenly there was a three inch long, half inch deep chip (can that even still be called a chip?) missing from near the ceiling.  I refuse to allow myself to stoop so low as to begin killing off the walls too.

It's certainly a true Monday; I’m very angsty and moody today.  Blame it on the stupid cramping organ called my uterus, or my accusatory boss who overly enjoys the effects of his superiority complex, or the severe lack of Mexican food in this most rural, spider-infested, manure-smelling hole of Germany.  I've bought two bottles of wine and a chocolate bar.  I've changed in to pajama pants as the elastic waist band is supremely forgiving of my tense, bloated middle.  And I'm playing the same tragically romantic rock song on repeat.  The singer's almost off key voice is serenading me about the love between two teens persecuted during the Holocaust and their constant need to get it on, like in the foyer or while hiding underneath the floorboards.  It makes me swoon and I never swoon.  I've been told that I appreciate a twisted version of romance.  Who needs freaking flowers?  Tell me that you wanna screw the day away and my knees go weak.  Just kidding, I think.

Jon would kill me if he knew I was listening to this song again over and over.  Our friends' going away party was a couple weeks ago and I listened to this song on repeat for an hour, a seemingly quick hour, while getting ready.  Jon listened to the song echo from upstairs for the entire time, helpless to press to the next song.  I was pretty proud that it took me only an hour to paint on makeup and curl my hair as I usually leave for work every day with my head wet and my face naked.   We were half an hour late to dinner and my husband can no longer listen to "Alive With the Glory of Love" anymore without having a strong desire to smack himself, or maybe me, in the face.

He just doesn’t understand.

There’s only so much a girl can do when her hormones are screaming, wriggling around for attention, climbing over every other priority to claim the top seat of importance to let her know that every un-positive (not negative, just not positive) thing that comes up is a tragedy.

Can’t find that new air freshener you bought last Tuesday?  Cry.

Dinner was a little overcooked?  Cry.

The dog won’t quit stalking you around the house and is making you feel claustrophobic?  Cry.

Your significant other didn't rinse their fork off well enough?  Cry.

I’m trying to convince my attitude to return back to its regularly positive elevation.  My perma-smile has been turned upside down today.

It would probably benefit to fall in to a nap.

I've only slept three hours in the past two days and I’m so very tired.

Good night, my friends.

***

When your tea is trying to tell you something, listen.

I need some wine for this one.

The Hubs and I have recently really messed up a dear friendship of ours.  Through a steady stream of miscommunications and unspoken hurts, we lost contact for a couple months.  Both of us thinking that our friends weren't interested in us anymore and our friends thinking, just the same, that we weren't interested in them.

We're working on rectifying that situation.

Because I've realized that I've messed up and I'm going to keep messing up through out my life.  I'm young and I'm going to learn things about myself and the world around me.  And recently I've learned that I need to celebrate people.



The other night, while in the midst of the partay that surrounded the following picture...

my friend (to the right) and I had a heart to heart during which she, who's incredibly spiritually connected, revealed to me that I'm an empath.

Now I'm a Christian, whole heartedly, but I believe that there are things we can't see or explain that exist in a spiritual place.  So I believe my friend when she explains that I have an empathic nature.  I also believe her because I looked up what an empath is and it explains me...

I've been deeply connecting with emotions, feeling too much for and from too many things, and in the process avoiding any emotions that I feel too strongly and make me feel out of control.  Like love, and fear, and sadness, and loss, and anger, and celebration.

My loyalty allows me to build companionship with other people while my reaction to being an empath restrains me from allowing them and they're hearts to penetrate my life.

[Here's an article for further explanation of empaths: Are You An Emotional Empath? By Dr. Judith Orloff]

Recently, I've allowed an "emotional vampire" to ravage my peace, my pride and my other relationships.  And even more recently, I've kicked that "emotional vampire" to the curb and retaken control of myself and the enjoyment that I find in others.

While I felt like I had no control over the influences in my life and to where my energy was being expelled, I've learned that those previous limits I placed on myself from feeling too much were more limiting a fulfilling life than the negative response I'd though I'd get from investing in friends.



So, I'm going to celebrate the people I love.



When my amazing, spiritual friend goes back to the States, I'm going to wholeheartedly show her that she's loved and will be missed.

And when my friend offers to bring over tylenol because I'm experiencing the worst cramps ever in my 21 years of life, I'm going to ensure that she knows she's dearly appreciated.

And when I tell my friends that they're family, I'm going to show them with my words and actions that I truly mean that statement.


And then I'm going to 'empath' the shit out of them with joy and peace and love until they can fully understand how much I appreciate my life with them in it.

A dear, dear friend.

Some stats:

• I've been offered manager responsibilities at my job.  There's formal training and I was told that it's a great jump-off position for other manager roles.  Scary much?
• The Hubs is constantly in the field right now.  Today he got home at 7am and reported back to work at 3pm.
• New entertainment center!  Pictures when it's finished.
• I'm still in love with Mexican food.  That is all.