Thoughts right now… (Journal Entry #2)

she’s been everybody else’s girl…

Here I am. Awake since 5am. Sitting on the couch on a rainy Tuesday. A black cat asleep on my shoulder. Silence except for the sound of my typing and a restless dog who wishes that Ducky would wake up and feed her.

I was thinking. Amazing, right? I was thinking about how I don’t feel listened to by my “significant other”. I took off my engagement ring. I don’t know what we are. We could be anything we want to be.

I’m starting to think marriage is a joke. A legal documentation. There is nothing romantic about marriage to me. Marriage=chains. I kind of want to be alone. I want to feel comfortable in my own space. I definitely want to be with someone who values the arts as much as I do. I swore to myself it would be better this way. That one crazy person is enough. Guess what? Ducky is turning about to be far crazier than I am.

On one side of the coin- I am worried about him because I love him. On the other side, I am angry. I’m angry that I feel like I now have to take care of someone. I’m angry that I do all the cleaning and laundry and that if we want a half-way decent diet, I am the one who has to say hey- this is the 3rd time we’ve eaten pizza this week. And it’s just too much for me. Too much stress.

I am smoking so much pot lately. Wake and bake to bake to sleep. While yes, it does relieve some stress and inspire creativity in me, sometimes life gets far too fucking real. Is that even possible? For life to get “too real”? I think seeking the truth is the most important thing we as human beings can do. And everyone’s truth is different. Mine is turning out to be the most liberating thing ever. Liberation combined with intense pangs of failure and pain. I don’t actually want to be alone. Because then I would have to know myself.

I am still talking to Raven. I have told Butterfly that I need to chill out on hanging out with him for a while. This is more because of my own feelings. I don’t want to get hurt. He is the most beautiful person. Absolutely beautiful. And, he will always be with the woman he is with now. This I know. This isn’t high school. So I move on. Slowly move on, and see the light.

Who has taken care of me? Who will always be there? Who will have to deal with my shit? Can he? Can he do all of this and I can I accept all that *he* is as well? He and I need to do some serious talking. Without me being high. Fuck..



It’s really more than I can explain.

Here. Here is the fucking scarf. It doesn’t even matter it seems. Because I don’t have time to knit it. Instead, I have knit one hat and started another, finished it, then realized I was so distracted and stressed out that I completely effed up on my dpns to close up the top. Ended up frogging half my work. Threw my hands up. Knit a few rows on the scarf.

Length of a Scarf


In other news, I believe Ducky has had a mental breakdown, which has caused me to have….a mental breakdown.

It’s as if, just when I’ve started to feel better and more confident and like I have more direction in my life,  a wrench gets thrown into the works. Or, you know, a whole toolbox. A toolbox full of mental illness.. hah, Now. If I could only take that toolbox and use it to my advantage.

I miss Raven. I called him today, so upset, while Ducky was out grocery shopping. A few nights ago he met me at Kitty’s and we cuddled and cuddled, all three of us sleeping, warm, in the same bed. And you know what? Nothing happened. Yeah, I know. Exciting, right? But, I am committed to someone.

Commitment. Blah. I am possibly realizing that as hard as I try I don’t know if I’m cut out for the marriage thing. The path laid out before every person in this country, at least, perhaps in the world. Get married, buy house, have kids, work, play a little, die. But when something is missing. SOMETHING. And your partner can’t give it to you. (Because, believe me, NOBODY is going to change unless they want to). Why not? Why the fuck not? Open relationship. No marriage. Adoption (because hey- I don’t know, bringing yet another human into this world when there are already so many of us and there are millions of homeless children? I’m not sure about that yet). And hey- Raven’s kids are mighty beautiful…sigh… ANYWAY.

I always thought I would get married, have a family. A sweet little career, nothing too intense. A dog, some cats. A kitchen with, you know, a real stove and possibly counter space and more cabinets?

Alas, I have not opened my eyes, I am only peeking through the keyhole of each question I ask.

Insomnia has gotten me again. Decided to not smoke MaryJ after 2:30PM and now it is 2:01AM and fuck if I can go to sleep.

Knit. Sleep? Eat? Coffee. Knit. Smoke. Coffee. Smoke. Knit. Eat? Sleep? SLEEP??

Lucky Ducky?

No. Maybe lucky me.

Yesterday was a clusterf*ck of emotions, of decisions made too quickly and hastily. Of flirting too hard with Raven. Of having a huge panic attack when left alone at Dove’s house, skipping out on my plans with my homegirls, rushing home, pouring out every emotion to Ducky. Every single thing. Every truth. Deciding to start over.


I took off my engagement ring. Because we are starting over. Why would I do something like that if we’re starting over?

Because that ring is not me. It is a flashy show of a horrible past. Of trying to be someone I’m not. Of forcing Ducky to be someone he’s not. So, instead of threatening to commit suicide if he doesn’t ask me to marry him, and getting proposed to in a parking lot, of getting this totally over-the-top fucking diamond mess of a not-me ring. We’re doing this again. We’re trying this again. I know not much will change. But some things will get better. We are healing. And both of us understand why I was flirting with everyone under the sun. I don’t want to leave Ducky. But, if things don’t change, I will. I want this to work.

Small of My Heart- Madison Violet now playing.

And now. I knit. And get ready for an artisan fest I’m doing.

Yes, I started yet another scarf. I’m about as good at committing to a scarf as I am to a man.

Awake I am

And was, at 6 AM. Bright and early for the vortex that is 11-11-11. Talking to Raven. Playing Q & A. Fun, terrifying.

Want to knit. Just want to get lifted already and experience newness somehow.

Waiting for the answer to: “If you played me a record, what would it be?”

Answer? When we talk, the soundtrack to koyaanisqatsi [Great, now I have to find out what the fuck that even is.] When you catch my eye Dark Side of the Moon.

I am freezing cold, sitting on my deck, being a total dick. I am a dick. I am trying not to screw all of this up. But…when you’re not happy, you’re not happy. When you’re questioning everything? Everything ever? Ugh.

Want to just knit. And forget. Knit and forget. Knit and remember. Dreamless sleep.

Journal Entry #1

This is how you know you’re 30. You’re engaged, but have been flirting with a guy who’s going through a divorce and has two kids, via text messages and facebook chat all day behind your fiance’s back? You want to fuck up the whole “going in the right direction” thing. You want to make sweet, tantric love to a Butterfly, rough and passionate sex with a Hawk and tumble in the covers by a fire under the stars with a Raven. Anything but deal with a fucky ducky.

Ducky. A quacky annoying paranoid Ducky.

Hawk at my party. Putting me to sleep. Holding me, his warm body, breath with alcohol on it. Him, smelling so good, smelling my hair, spooning me, hands all over me, anywhere except trouble. Burying his face in my neck, feeling him almost kiss me when his lips brush through my hair in the crook of my neck. Pretending Ducky was him during sex and having an insanely good..[time….]. F*ck, that crazy mf’er is HOT.

All while Ducky had left my party early. My own fiance. Leaves my 30th birthday party…..early, and falls asleep at home.

I should have slept with his best friend.

About 4×6…

So.. The Scarf is now 4 inches wide and about 6 inches long. New needles, new yarn.

Acceptance. Going with the flow and a lot of “I’ll fix that later”s.

Lessons learned tonight: Knitting under a full moon is beautiful, invigorating and fucking cold.

You have to choose your material carefully when making a scarf. Because if you like it, you’ll want to keep touching it and working with it. If you hate it, you’re just going to get frustrated and feel bad about what you’re doing because you won’t be enjoying it.

Repetitive nature of scarf knitting is like doing mantra on a mala or rosary.

Sometimes I find myself thinking “knit, purl, knit, purl” and realize I’m actually saying them in the wrong order. That it’s a meditation. You become it and it becomes you. And Ducky trying to force me to watch The Bourne Identity was messing with my knit-chi. He just kept turning to me making sure I was watching. I just wanted to knit the scarf. What is preventing me from knitting this scarf? A lot of it seems to be Ducky, and my horrible lack of acceptance and procrastination.

Ducky, now standing, meandering around, moaning and groaning in the doorway. Telling me Shakti has a “stinky butt but she doesn’t wanna go dumpies.” Shakti being our dog, excuse me, *his* dog. Because, like all 29 year old manchilds, I feel like I am their mother. Ughh.

So maybe a picture would help. Let’s see if I can get one right now….opening photobooth…


Ok. Sleep. No. Knitting. BALANCE! Ahhh!

This is the new piece next to the frogged piece:

I wrote a journal entry tonight that will have to be shared tomorrow morning. I know that’s the whole point- the whole, what’s going on in this chick’s life during this process. But I’m just so damned tired….. alright….damnit, ALRIGHT! You asked for it…I have to get up off my ass and get my journal now..


Ok, here we go. I’m doing it.

Ok just put on “if not now, then when” by Incubus.

Cast on 20. Ready. Go.

SERIOUSLY???? How does someone fuck up the first fucking row?!!! AGHHHHH.

What the hell. The scarf is simple. Don’t overthink the scarf. Don’t go too fast or knit too tightly, or it won’t be even

and pretty and all that jazz.

Ok…..Incubus song #2 off this album