Signs

"There's like 26 states between here and there, now THERE'S a sign."

Yeah, probably.

I'm done.

The only way that I could be in more pain is if I took a baseball bat and whacked my leg incessantly.

I can't wait until we go back to Florida and I can get this show on the road. I want to start my classes again, and just not stop until I finish. I want to get this done, and I'm going to do an amazing job, because I know I can.

So many different things...

"Sham."

Move over, Ann Curry. MOVE OVER.

Wonder

So, what now?

I'm pretty sure this happy facade will crack soon; you can only pretend for so long. It's beginning to get weak and strained, and worn around the edges.

Keep going, keep going, keep going, keep writing, keep writing. Keep your sanity. Get it out, don't keep it in. I kind of knew something like this was coming; I was too upbeat yesterday for my own good. It hasn't even been that long... but I can't stop trying.

It will change soon, I promise.

... I hope.

There will always be hope.

Take that, Oscar Wilde.

Yes, I am aware that I switch between talking about myself and talking to myself, but that's pretty typical of me lately.

Warning: Sappiness Ahead

There's so many things that I've learned through all that's gone on, and the best part is that I hadn't even realized that I had learned them until recently. Looking back, I am so thankful for all that has happened in my life, and in the lives of those closest to me.

I realize how important those that I let into my life are, and I know that without their help, I wouldn't be where I am today. Everybody makes an impact, no matter how big or small... or how good or bad that impact is. I'm trying this new thing where even if someone leaves a horrible mark on me, I'm going to find a way to make it positive. So far, so good. I'm tired of crying, I'm tired of feeling that things are all my fault when they're not, and I'm tired of not feeling good enough when I know that I am.

The past... is the past. I've learned to live and let live, and to just let go. There are important things, certainly, but dwelling on the past doesn't do anybody any good. At first I thought that all of this would just make me angry, upset, and hurt... but far from it. This week has opened up my eyes to so much, and I'm happy that it did. Yes, it hurts... It hurts so damn much, but the pain isn't one that I can't deal with. It's a hopeful kind of hurt; the kind of hurt that gets better over time... the kind that you can smile through and not feel like a phony. Maybe it's unreal, but maybe not.

I understand the importance of embracing every moment of life, and not having regret. "Live every week like it's Shark Week," said Tracy Jordan to Kenneth the page, and it makes sense. Why worry about what could happen when the here and now is what we've got? Nothing is for certain, and it could all end tomorrow, so I refuse to let myself get caught up in the things that I haven't done, or the things that I could've done differently.

I have no idea what I'm going to do with the rest of my life, and I'm working for something, and it's exciting and amazing and terrifying all at the same time. I'm ready for whatever life can dish out at me, because I, good people, am one tough cookie, and nothing is going to get me down. Yes, there will be hard times, and yes, it's going to be a long and hard road, but I can get to where I need to be, regardless of how long it takes.

Somehow, whenever expats get together here, the subject of the Riyadh bombings always comes up. I'm not sure how it starts, but it always ends in this feeling of absolute dread, and I always learn something new about it. My whole family could have been gone in an instant, and as much as I complain about them, I love them all so much, and am so thankful for them.

I'm thankful for everybody that has made their way into my life, and maybe right now I'm looking for something that may not even exist, but that's not going to stop me, or turn me into a bitter, disillusioned wretch.

I spent the evening talking to an old Algerian man, and it was such a good experience, because he's been through quite a lot, and he's been all over the world.

I want to travel the world one day... and have crazy stories to tell, too.

One day...

I still have hope. Silly, silly me.


Is this what growing up is?

Letter to the male population of Saudi Arabia

Dear Sirs,

I am writing to you in regards to the treatment of women within your country (Yes, your country, because it sure as hell isn't ours). I know this will fall on deaf ears, but it has to be said. Somewhere. Even if it never reaches you, let it be known that this is unacceptable. By far, you should be ashamed of yourselves for letting it go on like this. You should be even more ashamed of yourselves for making US pay for everything.

Why do we have to cover up? Why do we not get to experience the simple freedoms that you take for granted? Protection of our virtue, you say? It's nice to know that you even have a committee that does that for us, in their Suburbans and with their short thobes and long beards, because God knows we can't do it ourselves. Oh, NO.

Here's an idea: how about YOU don't look? How about you work with us instead of against us all the time? How about you realize that the vast majority of the problem is men's complete and utter lack of control?

Why should i apologize for not accepting this subservient role that you have so kindly bestowed upon me?

Here, I'll apologize for a few things. I'm sorry. I'm sorry you're so closed-minded that you believe women don't belong working here. I'm sorry that you're so backwards you think this is all right. I'm sorry you need to have control over us at all times, or else your pathetic little egos will deflate. I'm sorry that I am not what you expect me to be, and that I never will be. I'm sorry that I feel this way, because I know others must feel it too.

Who are you to say that I belong in this position, and that I should do this, or not do that?

... And why is this bothering me so much?