Writing Day!

Hello lovely Readers!

Today is a writing day.  What is a writing day, you may ask? Once every other week, a friend of mine and I meet for coffee and writing time. Normally it's on Fridays but today it's on a Sunday because of scheduling conflicts.

Normally I use this time to write fanfiction, but I've rather burned myself out on my fics for some reason.  I haven't updated them in a long time and I just haven't been in the space for it.  So I'm not entirely sure what I'm going to write.  Maybe poetry?  Maybe fiction?  I don't know.  I do have some ideas for stories, one of which is based on this game I play with my sister - Guild Wars.  I have several characters but my favorite is a Nord named Dagny Ravenborne.  She's like a Norse character living in the mountains and hunting with her animals.

I feel like there is a story there that is just waiting to be cracked open.  Do I let it marinate or do I go for it?  That's the big question. 

I think the reason I write so much fanfiction is because it's easier to put myself out there with loved characters and scenarios that may or may not fit those characters.  Creating original content is scary.  It means putting out your own world, your own characters, your own original story.  Will it be well received or will it flounder?  Is my idea even good enough.

I'm thinking about investing in some resources for writing and art in general.  I've discovered I really love to create anything really.  I knit, I design knitting patterns sometimes, I color, sometimes I draw, sometimes I paint.  I write.  I like doing that sort of thing. 

I feel like life is full of colors and bursting with opportunity right now.  It's been a very long time since I've felt that way.  It's like spring is just showering down all these possibilities.  I want to play with color.  I want to play with words.  I think I'm probably rambling at this point.

I want to produce beauty into the world, be that with my hands or my voice.

My friend I write with, she's an editor for a publishing company and runs these events once a month with local authors and open mic time; she's encouraging me to come to open mic night next month and to read.  I think, even though it sounds scary, that I'm going to do it.  How else am I going to fly if I don't fall first?  Birds jump from the nest in order to learn to fly.  This is me jumping.

Also next month is Camp NaNoWriMo.  I think I've talked about this before, where I set a word count of 20,000 words and I'm going to write daily to achieve it.  I'm not sure if I should outline or not, but I do know I've been working on character sketches.  I've got a nice list of characters and I'm not entirely sure the underlying conflict but I have some ideas.  We'll see how this goes.  I really hope it's something I can accomplish.  It would feel good to have written a book even if it never goes anywhere; just the knowledge that I can.

And that is enough for today.  Thank you for reading, dear Readers and go create something beautiful.

~Birdie

Fan Fic Commissions!

Hello lovely Readers!

I've started a new opportunity. I love writing and I decided at the urging of my friend Dorothy, to try to do it to make some spending money. So...

I’ve decided to offer commissions of some of your favorite fandoms! I’m most well known for my Metal Gear Solid writing and my second person reader inserts. Samples of my work can be found here:

Single page fics (single spaced - 600 to 700 words) go for $4.

Whole chapters (single spaced - 1200 to 1500 words) go for $10

What I will write: NSFW/smut, Marvel fandom, Metal Gear Solid fandom, Supernatural fandom, blood, murder/death, characters together, reader inserts/second person (male or female) with a character. If you have a fandom not mentioned here, shoot me a message and we can talk about it! 

What I will not write: Rape/non-con

If any of this is of interest to you, shoot me a message on here and we'll get in touch and talk.

Have a great day!

~Birdie

A New Start

Hello Lovely Readers!

It's March and I've decided it's time to really push my writing muscles again. That includes getting this blog up and running again!

So while I've been gone, several things have happened: I've graduated with my English Ed degree, I've gotten a job as a tutor with a company that is really great (I teach reading, writing, math, and offer homework help), and I've been writing lots of fanfiction!  (If you feel like checking it out, just look up birdgirl90 on Archive of Our Own and you can read it! Most of it is either Metal Gear Solid - from several years ago - or Marvel, which is what I'm currently working on.) 

I also got a dog and am trying to train her to be a psychiatric service dog to help me with my anxiety and bipolar.  So far, it's slow going but I have hope. I don't fully agree with my dog trainer's tactics all the time - she's pretty hands on and a little aggressive at times - but I am hoping it's going to be okay. Worst case scenario, she stays an emotional support animal.

I'm taking on a new project this month: Camp NaNoWriMo. It starts in April - the wave I'm doing with friends - and I am very excited.  My plan is to outline and flesh out characters this month so that I'm ready to go for next month.  I've always tried to do NaNoWriMo but I always get distracted two weeks in with all the holidays and stuff.  I'm hoping this time to stick with it!  The beauty is that I get to pick my word count. I think I'm going to aim for 30,000 words.

Everything else is going pretty well in my world. Knitting projects have been started and finished, though I have several ones to still finish - including a blanket, a shawl, another shawl, and several pairs of socks, and some handwarmers.  I'm starting to really read books again, which is kind of exciting. I've also been doing a lot of coloring; mandala coloring books are my favorite, done in Sharpie.

My main goals right now are to keep being awesome at work, keep working with my dog, and to keep writing again. I want to get back to updating this blog on a weekly basis, so possibly every Friday, though I might try to do bi weekly on Sundays and Fridays.  It depends. 

Thank you for still being with me, dear Readers.  Here's to new starts!

~Birdie

Scraps of Yarn and Hearts

Sometimes...I think about the knitting I've done.  Sweaters, shawls, hats, gloves - I've made everything but blankets.

And sometimes, I think about the pieces I've given away.

Knitting is such a personal thing.  I spend hours on a project, days, weeks, sometimes a year or more.  My heart always goes into each piece too, a reflection of what I am going through.  Socks for finals and fear of failure, a sweater when I couldn't sleep and filled the void of seemingly endless nights, hats upon hats because I can't stop the mania from making my fingers shake, a scarf because I'm just happy and can't keep it to myself.  Every single piece has a story behind it - something I designed, something I mastered, something I defeated.

I've given so much away.

A white glittering hat to a girl who shared stories with me as we shivered by the train every night after class during a late fall semester.

A grey dropped stitch hat to a girl who was convinced my soul needed saving.

A pink and green shawl and a beanie to a friend who once was close but now is drifting as we both grow into who we need to be.

Purple socks, endless red scarves, and hand warmers to my best friend who left the state this year, taking them to a place where they're no longer needed because it doesn't get cold.

A hat to someone I never even met because they were important to a friend of mine, even as it crumbled months later.

Hand warmers to a woman who's secrets made me queasy but who offered my friend a home when she and her son were homeless.

Socks to my husband because he doesn't have boots and he needs his feet warm in the winter, socks he cherishes still.

There are so many more too, to family members and acquaintances.  So many things over the course of the years and years I've been playing with yarn.

All of these people shared something with me at some point, stories and intimacies and pieces of lives. I heard stories of breakups and heartaches, disease and sickness, fears of failure, unworthiness, the future.  I heard the joys of life, getting a new home, having a new start, passing something they were so afraid to do.

 I gave them all a piece of myself too.  Things are not one way, you know, and I opened up as I handed out knits.  I gave them warmth and I gave them comfort and I gave them my own secrets and stories and fears.  Souls are interesting things.  Maybe they are like horocruxes - you chip a little away each time you share with someone else.  But that makes me sad to think about.  It makes me sound as if I regret doing what I've done and giving what I have.

Sometimes it's exhausting, but I don't have any regrets about it.  The knitted items were needed at the time to keep someone warm, someone safe, someone comforted; the bits of myself were needed too, forming connections that helped me along my way.  I've grown so much through these threads we weave - I'm learning that while I want to curl into my shell again and not let anyone in, that's a miserable way to live.  Give away a bit of yourself and see what you can learn from it.

But sometimes I think about the hand knits I've given away, and inevitably the people I gave them to.

I hope they're all flourishing.

And I hope my knits are being well taken care of.

Update: Everything That Happened and What's Going On Now

Hello lovely readers!

So here is kind of an update of what's been going on with me since I last wrote a post about what's going on in my life.

Last semester I ended up opting to graduate and drop student teaching.  There were a lot of factors involved, some including me being burned out, some including other people making decisions for me that were not theirs to make.  I'm not going to lie, I was angry about it for a long time because in the end, I felt like I didn't really make the choice but rather had it forced on me.

But things have a way of working how they need to, and this was no different.

I currently work at a middle school with students with severe needs.  It's so very different from what I went to school for (English Ed) but it's been so good for me.  The first two weeks were stressful and I didn't know if I could do it.  But going into week three, I realize I know how to do my job and I actually enjoy it.  I feel better about teaching and working, and the experience I'm getting is invaluable to when I run my own classroom.

Today I received my Bachelors degree in the mail.  It feels so surreal and amazing.  I plan to walk in December, and there will be celebrating and all sorts of good things.  I feel proud of myself for coming this far, honestly.  I now have two college degrees (an Associates and a Bachelors) and the opportunities I have are wide open.  It's an amazing feeling.  I feel like I can take on anything.

I've also made the choice to student teach next fall.  It's something I've been thinking about for a while now, but I'm ready to make that commitment now.  There are two, maybe three, ways it can go.  But to get into those, I need to back up further.

So my husband's family is all in New Mexico.  We currently live with my parents in Colorado.  His grandfather had a few strokes last year and could use some help getting around and stuff, and his mom has her hands tied.  The decision we've made is that next summer we're going to move down there and live with his grandfather, helping out while getting a huge house to run rent free.  It actually is a pretty great deal - we're allowed to do what we want with the house, I can have a garden, we're going to get a puppy, and there's room for us to expand our family in a few years.

How does this affect student teaching?

Well, there was a girl in my class last semester who was moving to Washington and they made it so she could student teach in the program out of state.  It's something the school does that I completely forgot about; I just emailed one of my mentors at the school to verify that it can happen.  So if we move to New Mexico, I can student teach through my school out of state.

Then, another plan.  My husband is finishing his degree and has two semesters left.  He has to appeal for financial aid because the government is denying him it, because he has too many credit hours total over his college career.  There are two ways this can go, and it's fairly stressful.  One, he can finish the appeal process and they'll cover him for this semester and next, and we go ahead with moving, and I student teach out of state.  Two, he has to take a semester off and work for a bit, and finishes next fall, which means that I student teach in Colorado next fall and we move during January to New Mexico.

Another plan.  We end up staying in Colorado because of the job market and I student teach then get a job here in Colorado.

Final plan, and the one I hope it doesn't come down to.  He moves to New Mexico and I stay here a semester to student teach, then move down to join him.  I pray this does not happen this way.  But if it does, we deal one day at a time.

Regardless, I'll get my license by the end of next year, and he'll hopefully be able to graduate.  I plan on getting my sub license as well, so really, my job options are endless.

Anyway, that's what's been going on.  A lot more happened over the summer (we went to Disneyland!) but that's for another post.

~Birdie

A Letter to the Dead

Sometimes, I find myself thinking about you.

We never had a good relationship.  It was bumpy and up and down, your moods and mine clashing.  We could have been good friends, I think.  If things had been different.  If we had met at different times.  If things were...just different.  You had your issues and I had mine that I didn't want to deal with.  And so we were oil and fire.

Sometimes, it makes me incredibly sad.

Sometimes, it makes me so very angry I can't stand it.

But mostly now I feel numb.

It's been over two years and you've still left a mark on all of us.  I could talk to you about how much my sister has blossomed and grown and still struggles, how my parents don't talk about it unless we bring it up now, how my husband has made promises to me in the middle of my breakdowns that he won't do what you did.  But that's not what this is for.

This is for me.  My words.  To you.

I thought I saw your sister at Wal-Mart yesterday.  I was getting my nails done and she was getting those white tips she was so fond of.  But when she turned her face, it wasn't her.  The damage was already done though.  It's amazing how something so small can still trigger a wave of intense emotion.  I couldn't stop thinking about you, about your family, about what happened, all running in the back of my mind.

They've told me I have PTSD from you and what you did and how you left.

Did you know I had flashbacks last month?  It all came rushing back - the screaming, the crying, the sirens, the numbness and shock and how dazed and confused I was.  When I woke up in the morning, I was afraid to get out of bed.  I was afraid something would happen to my husband if I did, that he somehow wouldn't be breathing when I came back later, that something would happen to me if I left the security of the blankets and faced the world.  It took me an hour to finally move.

This morning was the same.  I woke up praying my husband would be safe and protected and that nothing bad would happen, paralyzed by the fear that he would somehow be taken from me.  Later this afternoon I broke down and cried, sobbing my worries and once again hearing the words I needed that he wouldn't willingly leave this world.

Sometimes...sometimes I think I almost understand why you left like you did, you know?

Sometimes my emotions run so hard and heavy that I can't see straight.  I lash out or poke at the people I care about the most because I can't think right, I say things wrong, I worry on one thought for hours, days, weeks, I itch, I can't breathe, I can't breathe, I can't breathe...the sorrow hits and I cry for what feels like days, for no visible or obvious reasons.  My meds are working now though.  They have been for a while.  I still have those moments where I lash out or poke or cry, but they're more manageable now.

You never had that luxury, did you.  Finding the magical combination.  I remember we once picked you up from an electric shock treatment you had at the hospital to see if they could help your mind.  God, I can't even imagine.  My old therapist once told me that when someone is physically sick for a long time - like they struggle with cancer - and they pass, we say it with compassion.  But we don't account for the people who are mentally hurting without help who can't bear it anymore.

I used to be angry.

Now...mostly I don't think about you.  I've boxed you away for the most part, put in a corner of my mind to be dealt with later, whenever that is.  Not totally healthy, but it's what I did.  Now on Wednesday I'm going to have to dig you back up.  I don't know what I will find.  I don't know where you stand with me.  It's confusing and painful.

Every once in a while, you come back to me though.  Just in waves.  Usually with a small trigger, something inconsequential - thinking I saw your sister, someone telling me a dream about suicide, hearing something in the news or a song on the radio.  And then when you do, I don't know how to handle you.  So I cry usually.

Because it's just so goddamn sad, okay.  I'm sad.  I'm sad that you felt this was your only option, that you couldn't get better, that you hurt my sister like that, that you hurt your family, that your family acted the way they did towards you, that life and love and everything you tried ran through your fingers like sand.

 I know how it feels to try to catch all the grains.  I know how it hurts when they fall.

I used to worry I would end up like you, did you know that?  When I got my diagnosis.  Sometimes even now I have those passing thoughts - will I end up like him?  Our disorder...it never gets better.  I think you probably knew that more than anyone.  It changes our brains until we die, progressing; at least, that's my understanding.  I have to remind myself from time to time:

I am not you.

I never was you.

And it'll be okay.

I guess this is a long letter to tell you that I was thinking about you today.  I listened to one of the songs from your funeral before I wrote this.  I cried to my husband about my fear of losing him, losing people I care about in general.  Part of me almost wants to go to your headstone, believe it or not, but I don't know what I would do there.  Last time I went was  over a year ago and I just ended up standing there awkwardly.

I wish things had been different.  I hope you're at peace.

~Birdie

Attention Fic Readers!

Hey readers!

So, I talk a lot about fanfiction, ocs, rps, and fandom things on here because they mean so so much to me.  Well, my best friend - one of the first people I ever met in fandom and who's introduced me to so so much - is offering commission fics.

Now, commission fics are something you don't hear about very often.
Artists commission art all the time.
But for someone to offer to write fanfiction based on word count tailored to exactly what you want - that's very few and far between.

In fact, he's the first person I know who's doing it.

Let me emphasize this:

He is the first and only person I know who's offering tailored fic commissions.

I'm one of those people that I won't out of hand sell you something if I don't think it's worth it, friend or not.  I'm also one of those people who has never spent money on a commission even though I've thought about it.

My friend is one of the best writers I know, and his work is amazing.  I have fics he's written me over the course of knowing him that I re-read all the time because they are so well done and wonderful.  From one writer to another, you will definitely get your money's worth out his commissions.

He writes for the fandoms of Metal Gear Solid (MGS), Voltron: Defender of the Universe, Overwatch, and the Witcher.

He writes ships, singles, OCs, self ships, and almost any kink you can imagine - meaning, if it's niche, there's a chance he'll write it for you if you ask.  (He does, as all writers and artists do, have the right to turn you down, but he doesn't bite - so don't be shy and definitely ask.)

He has examples of his writing  from an old AO3 account on his information page, but I wanted to add the other two fics that I like: extra example 1 and extra example 2.

You can find his awesome commission info page here.

I do, in fact, have a list of several fics that I'm going to see if he'll commission once I get the money in the next two weeks.

And if that doesn't say it all, I don't know what does.

~Birdie

Friday Friday

Hey readers.

I don't even know.

It's been a long week.

I need sleep.

~Birdie

The Thursday Anomaly

Hey readers!

I couldn't help myself.  This week there is a Thursday update.

(Consider this a compensation for deleting the Monday post. I'm trying to avoid things like "lol" on here, but just imagine I'm shaking my head and laughing to myself lightly over it. Cause I am.)

Alright, so, couple of things I feel like chatting about today, because I can't get my brain to hold still for the life of me.

(That started last night when I couldn't hold a train of thought long enough to help myself sleep.  You know how it is: you pick something to think about as you fall asleep and it helps you.  Last night, I kept grabbing at the meditations I've been learning, but they kept getting interrupted by random pop songs and writing ideas I'm not gonna get on paper among other things.  At least I kept them away from school stuff.  I even went outside and sat in the wind and grass for an hour before trying to go to bed, hoping to get my brain to Just. Shut. Up. When they say manic days with bipolar feel like a fucking train barreling through your mind, they are not kidding; that is how it is exactly.  I am strung.)

Alright, anyway.

I've started knitting a new shawl and honestly, it's insane.

I've wanted to knit it for a while now, and so for my birthday what feels like a lifetime ago, my parents helped me get the yarn and beads for it.  I bought really nice sock yarn (Dream in Color, Smooshy in the colorway Black Parade - I know, I've been shit talking [not on here] the cycle of emo and scene stuff coming back around, but a little MCR in my yarn can't hurt) and some really nice beads.

It's a good concentration project.  The pattern is 19 pages of charts essentially, and one of those has over 500 stitches across 8 pages.
I've started using a highlighter to help me.  If I highlight a row, I know I need to knit the row above it.
Normally I use sticky notes, but for an eventual 8 page row, that's pretty unrealistic.

I also cut out the yarn overs (the things that make the holes next to the beads) because I think they look tacky in this situation.

So far, the Little Dipper is fully formed and several other constellations are on the rise.

(Get it? Cause constellations rise and set across the sky and - nevermind.)

I would share pictures, but I'm so bad about them. As soon as I finish my current chart, I'm sending some to friends, but otherwise...use your imagination.  It's awesome.

We are on Day Two of Operation Pink Eye.

I found out yesterday that some people have never had pink eye or know what it is.
(I found this out talking to someone on one of my social media sites who thought for a moment I might seriously get hurt from it.)
I think I kind of assumed that everyone was familiar with it, especially with how easily it spreads with kids.
I stand corrected.

So lucky for all of you, I've decided it might be a good idea to explain the process of it.

Basically, pink eye is a virus in your eye.  Now, this sounds gross, and it kind of is.
What happens is your eye gets really irritated and turns bloodshot, aka where the pink portion comes from.  Some people experience itching with it.  For me, my eye just gets sore.  There's watering and crust forms along your eyelash lines as well as the corners of your eyes.

It's gross, but nothing antibiotic eye drops can't handle.

Sometimes though, you get it in one eye, and then almost overnight you get it in the other.
Aka, double pink eye.

That's the beautiful thing I woke up to this morning.

Yay, eye drops.

My husband and I finally made it to the pool yesterday.

Now, let me tell you the saga of the pool.
The pool in our apartment complex opens every year over Memorial Day weekend.  This year, however, someone got the really smart idea that the pool needed repairs.
Which, truthfully, it did.
But this prolonged the pool opening.  Initially it was going to open at the end of June.
It didn't open until about two weeks ago.

Normally, I am a mermaid essentially and am at the pool almost every day.

(Flip side of this is that I've been walking an insane amount to get out of my head since I couldn't get to the water.  Let me tell you, Colorado is full of hills and the two mile loop I do feels like I'm hiking mountains on a bad day - I'm not, for the record, I live in the city.)

And then, the water was freezing when we went the first time.

So we went yesterday and - I swear it was like magic - the water was actually warm enough that we could swim without dying of hypothermia.
It was great.

(I'm still annoyed with how long it took them to do the repairs.  They did our parking lot too, but took more time than expected, so we ended up losing several days of parking. Gotta love summer, I suppose.)

Alright, I could ramble on forever today - I honestly can't sit still - so we should leave it here.
Actually, wait, I lied.

Same person online who never had pink eye sent me this.  Imagine every "HOA board member, I want to speak to a manager, my kid is smarter than yours" white woman you know.

Yeah.
That's Gayle.

Watch it and have a laugh.  It absolutely cracks me up.

Alright, happy Thursday!
~Birdie

The Wednesday Post

Hey readers!

I had a Monday post, but I ended up deleting it.  It was basically me rambling about stuff while in a depressed mood and honestly, I was kind of embarrassed a few hours after posting, so I took it down.

Not a bad thing.
It happens to all of us.
There is a reason one of my English professors said she burned all her journals when her kids were born.
Sometimes, we write shit we feel weird about later.

(I think I'm going to burn my journals too before I have kids.  Too much personal stuff, and embarrassing stuff at that.  I made it through, I don't need the reminders of braces boy, my coming of age, and various depressive spells throughout high school and community college.)

I don't know what to write today, though, to be honest.

It's Wednesday, but it's summer and the days are blurring for me.

I was diagnosed with pink eye and a fever today, which explains a lot about why my eye hurts and keeps watering.  Might also explain my headaches from the past few days.

I got some spiffy eye drops.

I can't remember the last time something like this happened.
I think it was when I was working with a tutoring company back in 2009?
Yeah, that sounds about right.

Kids man.
They spread illness like it's medieval England.

Dunno where I got this one, but I'm glad it's not strep.

I'm realizing school's going to be hell this fall.
The only reason I chose a late class was because I wanted a particular professor.
(She runs ComicCon for my city and is honestly one of my favorite professors.  If anyone can make Milton interesting, I'm betting my semester that it's her.  I'm going to cry otherwise.)
My sister is also coming to school and has a class earlier and later than me.
I volunteered to stay on campus with her because crime rates have gone up and there's no way in hell I'm not going to be there with her after dark.

So I'm going to be on campus for 12 and a half hours twice a week, only in class for about five of those, and the breaks are spread out in such a way that I can't go home and back easily.
Plus field experience twice a week.

Thank god for escapism, complicated knitting projects, and my friends and husband.

Otherwise, I think I might die.

I hate being downtown to begin with.
I hate being there after dark.
I hate the fear of it and the fact that I have yet to figure out a way to get over it.

We'll see how things go.

I think this about sums up things?
Yeah.

Anxiety is still present in my stomach, and I think it will always be there in a little knot, but it's mellowed some.  At least, to the point where I'm back to functioning like a normal person, which thank god for because honestly, it was getting really hard to breathe for a while there.

I've kind of chilled about writing.
I hit that point where I keep hitting a blank wall.
I've tried writing canon characters.
I've tried writing my OCs in the canon and AU verses.
Hell, I tried writing a character for a novel I've had in my head for over two years.

Nothing.

I'm not so much frustrated about it as I am sad.
I didn't realize how much this got me through summer until I couldn't do it anymore.
Maybe a break is good.
But it still makes me sad.

I think I'm trying too hard.
It's supposed to be fun and I'm taking it too seriously.
Learning to relax and go with things is so difficult for me, so it's time to learn, bit by bit.
I live so much by rules...when there are none or I can't make some, it's...I worry I'm doing things wrong.

I'm learning.

Again, like I said at the start of this post, not a bad thing.
It happens to all of us, in different ways.
We learn and grow.

And my eye is stinging again.
I think that's a good place to leave this.
~Birdie

Friday Funday

Hey there readers!

So Friday posts are now going to be called "Friday Funday" because honestly, why not. I like how cheesy it sounds, so...here we are.

Today my husband and I went to go see the new Star Trek movie.  It was a belated birthday gift from him (my birthday was last week, so we postponed lunch and a movie until this week cause Star Trek) and lemme tell you.

It was great.

Now, I'm a Star Trek fan.
This is not to say I'm a die hard one.
I like the original series and I love the new reboot movies.

I know a lot of people have issues with the reboots or can quote episodes of TOS or Deep Space or The Next Generation.

I am not that person.

I am a casual fan.

(That being said, I do have fanfiction up somewhere online for the reboot films that I wrote when I was 19 and I kind of cringe at when I think about them.  It is what it is.  I could probably take them offline, but...eh.)

Anyway, back to the new movie.  I'm going to do my best not to spoil it (I'm not talking plot but characters more than anything), but if that is something you're worried about, you might want to turn back.

This film was decidedly better than the second one, in my opinion.  The villain felt better rounded out.  It was less predictable - I was on the edge of my seat most of it, whereas with the second one I knew it was Khan almost from the start and could put the pieces together fairly quickly.  This one kept me guessing, and was clever at it.

The character developments were also great.  We got to see a lot of the relationship between McCoy and Spock, which I loved - their salty attitudes with each other (yes, Spock can be salty) are one of my favorite things ever.  We got to see a lot more of Scotty and Chekov, which I also loved.  Plus Sulu had a bigger part.

All around, great characters.

Now, this is where I probably will get some push back.

I know a lot of people from the start have shipped Kirk and Spock or Spock and McCoy.  I for one - while not being opposed to those - love Spock and Uhura as a pairing.  She's the emotional side for him while he balances her with his logical rationality.  This isn't to say that Uhura isn't logical - she very much is - but they make a great pairing.

(I might be biased as I'm married to a man who sometimes acts like Spock.)

So yes, that was in the film as well.  But it was handled so well.  I don't want to spoil that for anyone, but just.

Honestly, the whole movie was handled really well.

Overall, 10 out of 10.

And this has been the Friday Funday. :)
Happy weekends, everyone!

~Birdie

The Wednesday Lowdown

Hey there, readers!

I really wanted a clever title for the blog post.  See, I was thinking that for the rest of the summer I would update on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday.  Then when school starts in August, I would do Sunday, Tuesday, and Thursdays (since Tuesdays and Thursdays I'm at school and will have time between classes to write so I don't lose my mind) with the possibility of occasional posts should something exciting happens.

I was hoping to keep the titles consistent, so like Sundays would be listed as "Sunday Editions" and stuff, but I can't figure out enough newspaper puns at the moment.  So for now, it is what it is.

At least it will be consistent.

Anyway, this was not what I wanted to blog about today.

Actually, in all honesty you guys, my blogs tend to be random, so I normally don't have a plan when I write them.  Monday was an exception because there was so much I needed to cover.  Normally though, I can't promise what you're going to get.

Again, not what I wanted to blog about.

Someone is making me fanart.

Someone online offered to pay me money to write a fic because they like what I write so much that they wanted more.  

Can we talk about this for a moment?

Remember in the previous blog post I mentioned the MGS fandom saving me during a dark period and how I write a lot for the fandom?  Yeah, so apparently I make more waves than I thought because people online actually know who I am due to my writing.  People online actually like my writing.  You know, the stuff I can chunk out in handfuls when I'm on a good day, the stuff that I like writing but that I also worry about posting because frankly, there is so much good fanfiction out there.

I am so floored.

I feel like I'm this wholly unremarkable person, and yet, people like what I do, (and for some reason, they like me too, but that's a post for another time).  And some of the people who mention it are people who's writing I adore, so it's a little like being star struck.  And the whole reason I do it is because it makes me happy and it makes my friends happy.

And then I found out that someone really wanted more of a particular series I was writing, and when I reached out to her to offer to write her one, she had a mini meltdown and proceeded to tell me that she would pay me or do fanart or both as a thanks.

Again, I am floored.

I declined the money.  

I mean, I'm broke as fuck (I have a dollar to my name until school starts) but this isn't why I do what I do.  

If you're kind to me, I will happily bend over backwards for you.  

If you ask and I like you or know you, I'll write you anything in reason.

(That goes beyond fanfiction.  Kindness goes a long way.)

Anyway.

I'm getting a piece of fanart.

Of my favorite OC.

With her canon character beau.

I feel like crying.

It means so much to me that people actually think enough of me to offer these sort of things.  

And to be kind enough to work with Andi.

Alright, honestly, I love Andi so fucking much.

She's my favorite character I've ever made, and I get to explore so much through her.

Every time I write her or RP her or talk about her or get to share her with anyone, it just.

It's like there's a piece of me that gets away from everything and gets to love my girl instead, even if it's just for a small fic or quick reply or brief conversation.

I'm learning to love myself through her.

I've been incredibly fortunate, too, cause my bff, my husband, and my sister all get an earful from time to time, and they are so patient with me, and actually...like her too.

See, this is the beauty of fanfiction, folks.

You can have these characters you love and make characters you love, and they get you through.

They give you something to look forward to and something to get out of your head.

It is a legit writing form, and no one will ever tell me otherwise.

I encourage it.

Which actually, let's talk about OCs for a moment, since I'm gushing about mine.

There are times you will not like someone's OC.
You will feel competitive or frustrated that they're everywhere or just annoyed in general.

This has happened in one of the tags I follow.

But that does not give you the right to publicly drag the character or the person who created them.  It makes me so mad that people do that.
Frankly, I don't like a lot of OCs.
But the amount of love that goes into them does not deserve me coming along and to the creator's face telling them I dislike them.

We all love our OCs.

If you don't like them, move along quietly.  

Feel free to bitch to your friends, but please, just ignore us in public.  

Call outs are cruel.

Anyway, back to the point.

I am getting fanart of my favorite OC by a girl who is super kind and likes my writing and is officially the second person to ever draw her.  

(My bff drew some great Andi stuff that is my phone wall paper, and I will never, ever get rid of the art.  Ever.  It means so much to me.)

I am, in fact, blown away.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to end this post and go squeal a bit while trying to knit something.

(Next post will be about that, brace yourselves. I got yarn for a really cool project, bwahaha.)

~Birdie

A Letter to My Readers

Hello readers!

To those of you who still follow me, you deserve more than a gold medal.
To those of you who are new...well.
Here's your welcome letter.

Bear with me, this is an incredibly long post.
But it's important.

So once upon a time, I ran a blog called All the Stars and Boulevards.  Some of you may or may not remember it.  I was young (high school into early years of college) and I named it after a song by Augustana (pretty sure they aren't around anymore).

I was so very good at updating.
It was like a personal diary and I couldn't stop.
I wrote about my job.
I wrote about my life, my friends, people who made me mad, people who I loved.

But then one day I decided to drop it.
There were too many things going on.
I couldn't sort personal from what is acceptable to share.
So I walked away.

I tried a knitting blog, inspired by the Yarn Harlot.
That didn't work well.
It was too hard for me to stay on top of pictures and projects.
I gave up.

I created a book blog.
That was a school project for a Young Adult Literature class I was taking.
I was very proud of it (I still am) but try as I might, I can't get myself to go back to it.

Somewhere in the middle, this beautiful blog came about.
The quote is from Rumi, and it's always resonated with me.
The point of this blog was to do what the original blog did, but better.

And then I stopped blogging altogether.

There are periodic posts here and there on this blog, jumbled and confused and whatever else.

But I want to be back for good this time.  I have so many things in my head and what better way than to skewer myself on the Internet.  Maybe I should keep things private; after all, so many things have happened.

Keeping it private doesn't help anyone else though.  And besides, I'm learning people online mean well overall, and if anyone wants to talk, it opens me up for that.

Alright.  Up to speed so far?
Excellent.
This is where the tornado starts.
Hold on Dorothy, this isn't Kansas anymore.

So what happened to make me stop?

Maybe I explained everything in a previous post somewhere, but I have no desire to go through my archives.  I might actually burn them so this can be a fresh start.  So let's go with a fresh start.

My sister's fiance killed himself.
Wait, let's go back further.
I got married.
Wait, stuff came before that.
Let's go back to the beginning, actually.

2014 was the most stressful year I'd had in a really long time.  I had just figured out, after an associates and a year at a four year school, what I wanted to do with my life.  At first I thought I wanted to be a park ranger.  But if I had paid attention to what my associates said ("creative writing"), I would have realized sooner that I'm drawn to words.  English Education finally came to me, and it's a fantastic fit.  So I was switching from a highly stressful education path to an equally stressful one, the key being I was (and still am) in love with it.

That was the summer of my sister's fiance as well, a man who could be charming and funny but turn on a dime.  He had Type I Bipolar Disorder, Borderline Personality Disorder, and several other things going on.

 Mental disorders tend to get glossed over.  We're afraid to talk about them, and we're afraid to deal with them.  I'm ashamed to say that I was afraid to deal with his.

What ended up happening instead was a summer of him harassing me to the point where I was afraid to go home if I saw a car that even remotely looked like his, and me not knowing how to deal with it and not knowing how to sort what was just manipulative from his environment (because there was a lot of that going on) and what was biological.

The records of text messages I kept that summer filled a file folder.
My sister still loved him.
I started seeing a therapist and psychiatrist.
My anxiety attacks went through the roof and I was put on low doses of antidepressants (which didn't make me feel better) and Xanax as needed.

The year passed.

2015 showed great promise.
I brought my GPA up a bit, planned my wedding, and just generally loved life.  School ended well in the spring semester - I got to try so many things, a painting class and meeting authors and just so many wonderful things.

I got married.
It was beautiful and simple and I felt like a princess.  My husband and I have been together since 2011; he's the only person I've ever been with, and I love him so much.  We spent a week afterwards trying to figure out further plans.  We still lived (and still do live) with my parents because the economy is so bad and we're both full time students, but it works out.  It worked out.

Everything was wonderful and my life felt right.

And then everything wasn't okay.

Suicide is a very difficult thing to talk about.  It's hard, it's stigmatized like so many other things, and it scares a lot of people.  But that's what happened, and I'm tired of sugar coating it.  I've tip toed telling people what really happened.  I'm sick of pitying looks and I know everyone else is too.

My therapist once told me that when someone dies of cancer or other illness, we are sad, but we often say that they're no longer in pain.
The same should go for suicide.
It's not something we wish on anyone, and so many people react in anger to the person who left.
But we can't know how much pain that person was in, and on some level, they aren't hurting any more.

Life is so complicated sometimes.

So here it is:

My sister's fiance shot himself in the head.

We were on vacation to see my relatives who live out of state.  We were sharing our wedding and our photos, how beautiful everything was.  My husband and I were happy, and even though all five of us (my sister, the two of us, and my parents) were crammed in a single hotel room for a week, it was good.  Every time I see my family, it's good.

He was not invited, for reasons listed way above.

We dropped my sister off at her apartment, my dad walking her up to the door.
They found the body.
They found an extra bullet waiting for her on the night stand table.

She later told us that if my dad hadn't been there, she would have used it.
We still cry when we think about it.

I still remember hearing her scream and knowing exactly what had happened before anyone could tell me as I sat in the van.

I still remember thinking I had to go to the bathroom but would rather wait than ask to use theirs.
I would have seen the body as well if I hadn't waited.

I still remember that he was only a month older than me.

So then of course there is so much to deal with.
My sister's pain.
His family and how in their hurt, they handled my sister so poorly.
How all of us felt some piece of guilt.
How when I threw that file of text messages away, I wondered (and still do) if I could have somehow made thing different.

I used to have nightmares where I could hear her scream still.
I would close my eyes, see her face and hear her sobs as I held her with my mom and husband.
I tried to change the tracks.
I tried to not take Xanax daily.
I tried to avoid it until I couldn't any longer.

I couldn't imagine how hard it hurt her.

I still can't.

Somehow we made it through the summer.
School started again in the fall.

I was diagnosed with Type II Bipolar Disorder on the first day of school.
I would have been diagnosed sooner if I hadn't spent a year lying to everyone because I was afraid of turning out like him.

It wasn't the end of the world even though I thought it was on that August day as I cried on the train.

The world still hasn't ended.
If anything, it's gotten better for me.
I'm back to rapid cycling, but it's no longer daily.
I cycle about weekly now.
And I have an appointment to tweak that this week.

There is always hope.

But before that, I couldn't see it.

And then, my husband got me interested in something.  There is a game series called Metal Gear Solid.  Perhaps you are familiar with it.  I don't play video games, but he's played it from the first game all the way through the Phantom Pain, the last installment.  I watched a few of the missions, and I was blown away by the care put into these characters.

I researched.
For the first time since I graduated community college, I started to write.
I wrote a character.  I wrote in the world of the established characters with the support and encouragement of my husband.
(He loves that I'm part of something, especially something he can talk with me about.)
I found something to give me purpose when I couldn't see through term papers, middle schoolers, the pain of the holidays.

I can't explain how much it saved me.
It still does.

Every time I write verse fics or read other fics or look at fanart or RP or even watch cutscenes of the games, I get out of my head for a little bit.  My therapist and I talk about it sometimes, how writing again with established characters takes some pressure off me and actually lets me write without criticism in my head, how I've created two original characters (OCs) that are the parts of me I can't handle in real life.

Actually, let's pause here and, in the words of the Good Mythical Morning boys, let's talk about that.

My first OC, a teenage girl on Mother Base who isn't quite sure where she fits, is all the emotions I've squelched (my therapist's words) my whole life.  She lets me escape being an adult, even if it's just for a bit.  I don't write her much anymore.  I think I don't need her right now; but I know that when I do need her, she's there.

My current one is...well...she's the parts of myself I struggle with.  She has my anxieties and my disorders and my insecurities, but she's also got some serious strength.  When I start to feel like I'm drowning, there's a part of me that remembers that if she can survive the scenarios I've placed her in, surely I can survive mine.  It doesn't take a hero to make it through; sometimes it's just being soft and kind, even if you're crying.

Knitting can only do so much, after all.
Reading patterns (with the exception of lace) doesn't help quiet the voices.
If anything, sometimes it makes them louder.
There's a reason I watch the Weather Channel while I knit.

I digress.

The best part of this discovery last year?

I met my best friend.

It's always funny to me how paths cross, those golden strands fate weaves, how nothing is by chance.  Not a month after being in this fandom and writing for the first time in so long, he crossed my path.  At first, it was just to talk fanfiction.  But honestly, after a week, it wasn't that.

Personal life spilled into it.
I never open myself to anyone.
If you open up, it gives a chance to get hurt.

But I did with him.
I opened myself wide and I let him into my Cancer shell.
I helped him through struggles.
He helped me when I couldn't get out of my head.

He still does.

He lives several states away, so visiting in person is more than a midnight drive, but I know that if I call at 1am with a crisis, he'll answer the phone.
When my moods are out of control, he's there.
When something good happens, he's the first to know outside of my husband.

He's fantastic and I don't know how I got so fortunate to have him in my life.
He's my family.
I don't know what I would do without him in my life.
And to think, if I hadn't gotten interested in a fandom of a game I don't play, I wouldn't have met him.
Life is strange, isn't it?

I think life comes down to personal connections.
Even when I cant see straight, I still believe that.

My parents are amazing.
My sister is too.

And my husband.
God, I don't even know where to begin.
He takes better care of me than I do myself sometimes and I love him so much.
He's my rock.
He loves that I'm doing things again.
He loves that I met a great friend.
He loves that somehow, I'm finding myself again.
(Even if this month I've been completely off kilter.)

I've given him opportunities to leave.
Loving someone with mental illness can be hard.
But he's steadfast.

God blessed me with the people around me more than I can express.

School started again.
I made some connections with classmates that have carried.
I brought my GPA up, even though I still have a bit to go before it's where I want it.
I graduate in three semesters, and one of those is student teaching.
I'm terrified and it exhilarates me as much as it gives me nightmares.

I refuse to stop because of it though.

All of this is to say in a very long winded way, it is now the summer of 2016.

I am still here.

I still write for fandom.
I still paint periodically.
I've started taking walks and exploring around where I live, something I've not done before.
Sometimes I play my violin.
I've started singing in the shower again.
I went through Year and a Day, and took the mantle of Raven, the Seer.
I can read tarot like no one's business and if you need a spell, well, I have candle magic down.

And of course I still knit like a mad woman, sometimes until my hands hurt.

I am still here.

I am not leaving again.

So welcome back, old readers.
And welcome welcome, new readers.

We're caught up, so lets venture forward, shall we?

~Birdie

Shaking the Dust Off

Why hello, my lovelies.

I am not dead.

That seems like a very good way to start this.

So life over the past six months has been probably some of the craziest to date.
And I am so very very tired.
And so many many things have happened that it would take far too long to explain.

(Besides.  You should never have to explain.  Your friends don't need it and your enemies won't believe it.)

I honestly believe exhaustion is the best way to put it.  I feel like I have been running a marathon and I'm finally, finally, able to stop again to catch my breath.  The semester was a whirlwind, but I am confident I'm fianlly where I need to be.  I've made some friends, some of the best I've had in a long time if we're being completely honest.  I started writing again; it's fanfiction, and it's fun, and I can see myself grow as a writer almost daily.

(Even if I am currently on a hiatus because I am so fucking burned out.)

It's winter break.
There's snow and my bones ache.

But I am back.

Thanks for waiting for me, lovely readers.
I won't leaving you hanging again, to the best of my abilities.

~Birdie

I Knit, a Poem

The following is a quick poem I wrote this morning.

I Knit

I knit 

To keep myself sane 

To keep myself going

To keep myself focused when the anxiety feels like it will swallow me whole.

I knit 

To stop myself from eating my emotions 

To stop myself from picking my scabs and acne

To stop myself from screaming in the face of things I can’t control.

I knit

To wrap my loved ones in comfort

To wrap myself in a soothing rhythm

To wrap my world in a type of bubble wrap that keeps things safe.

I knit 

To create 

Calm, love, peace, new starts.  

I knit 

To destroy 

Pain, frustration, ugliness, stress.

I knit 

Because I am.

Breathe in.

Purl two.

Breathe out.

A Word to the Wise

Hey readers.

I know I haven't published on this particular blog in a year, but a concern of mine has brought me out of hiatus to write this warning: at all costs, avoid a user named vividlygeneric.

The backstory:

Vividlygeneric seems incredibly sweet and cute on the front.  And initially, this person seems like someone you want to be friends with.  However, this isn't the case.  As soon as you no longer have anything to offer them, this particular person turns on a whim.

The first case of cyber bullying was when my sister started dating vividlygeneric's brother.  The user got online and whined to her YouTube fans about how "betrayed" she was.  Really?  She basically turned the YouTube sphere against my sister to the point where my once brilliantly creative video making sister quit making videos to avoid being harassed.

But what vividlygeneric has done now takes the fucking cake.

My sister was living with the user's brother.  They were engaged.  My family and I did not get along with the guy (he sent me threatening text messages last summer and I reacted poorly and basically it was a mess), but we recognized that he was the one my sister wanted to be with.  He ended up taking his life and my sister found him.

My sister knew he was depressed, her therapists knew he was depressed, and his therapists knew he was depressed.  My sister, knowing we were going out of town, left him a note of things to do - a list that she believed would keep him alive while we were gone and would give her some extra time with him.  She did the best she could in the situation, and frankly, situations like this have no right answers or solutions; you just have to do the best you can with what you have.

Vividlygeneric is now blaming my sister for his death in very indirect but biting ways.  This is bullying and slander, and if I really wanted to, I suspect  I could get this user blocked on YouTube.  But I don't want to do that.  I just want to warn everyone that this user is toxic and dangerous.

The text messages that this user sent my sister make the ones that I received last summer look like friendly conversation.  Vividlygeneric is dangerous, mean, and out for attention.  They claim to have survived 12 suicide attempts, which in my mind means they need some serious help which they aren't getting.  They are unpredictable.

On all media, this person is known as vividlygeneric.  I am not going to give actual names.  I am not advocating you harass this person or send mean messages to them.  They aren't worth that.

I am advising that everyone avoid them like the plague.  It's really for the best.

~Birdie

So Sad

Robin Williams died yesterday.

My heart is so sad.  I've been crying off and on since last night.

I think maybe I'm still mourning the passing my grandmother last year.  Plus everything has been crazy and there's been a lot of worry the past few months.

It's just been a lot.  I've been focused on getting things done and not really dealing with everything in my life.

And now Robin Williams is gone, and I have finally spilled over.

That is all, my readers.

~Meaghan

Oh Hey There!

Hi there, my dear readers.

I know I have been absent for over two months.  A lot has been going on, and I was also completely enjoying my summer break.  Seriously.  I was at the pool at least three times a week this summer, weather allowing.  (We had a few hail storms in there, and it is monsoon season now, but other than that, I've been making an effort to get off my computer and go outside.)

So rather than rehashing everything that has been my summer, I propose we start new.

School starts in one week.

I'm really excited about it.  I love being on campus, I love learning new things, and I love doing papers and things.  And since I'm now an English Education major, I'm especially excited about this semester.  I did not drop my GPA last semester as much as I had feared; I am still in the 3.0 range.  It's just not where I would like it and I know I am capable of bringing it back up.  Next week is the start of a redemption period for me.

I've started setting little goals for myself each day.  The feeling of satisfaction from achieving them is really helpful for me right now.  My anxiety has peaked for the first time really since spring and I don't really want to go into details, but little goals help keep it in check.

(I'm also going to be seeing a therapist at the end of the month who is trained to give out medication for my anxiety.  After having a panic attack from talking wedding, my fiance, mom, and myself talked about it and decided it was for the best.  I have a lot going on and I need to be the best me I can possibly be.)

I did get two scholarships this semester, which is awesome! One is through my dad's main job and one is through his part time job.  This is the last year I qualified for the scholarships and I feel really blessed that I got them.  Of all the years to get financial help, this one was a biggie.

Wedding plans are going pretty smoothly.  I'm trying not to think too much about it, because school is more pressing right now.  But the church is reserved (I took in the deposit check today!) and I'm going to be visiting my fiance's family over Thanksgiving break.  I'm nervous about that, but everyone is being pretty awesome to me about it.  Fiance's best friend's girlfriend has actually friended me on Tumblr and is being above and beyond awesome.  So that's pretty cool.

And yeah, I think that about sums everything up for now.  I'm planning (now that school is back and I'm on an actual schedule again) to update at least twice a week.  I might do more depending on the week.  During midterms and finals, it might be less.  We will see.

Have a great Monday, dear readers!

~Meaghan

A Letter To My Teenage Self

Dear 18 year old me,

It's nearly 24 year old you, from the future.  Howdy, kid. :)

I'm writing this on your second blog.  I know you swear you'll never give up your old blog in favor of a new one, but let me tell you something: you're going to hit a point where you are so overwhelmed with everything that you decide you need a fresh start.  This blog is part of that.

I know things are really rough for you right now.  It's 2008 and you've finished high school; you've decided to take some time for yourself before going to college.  Taking a year off wasn't your first choice.  I know that there is a lot of external pressure to go to school.  But I also know how overwhelming it feels trying to navigate college waters at the moment.

(We call this anxiety, by the way.  You know the overwhelming need to be sick when you are late or too early to things?  That's also anxiety.  You'll never be officially diagnosed with it, but you will learn to control it.  More on this in a few paragraphs.)

I know you aren't even sure if you want to go to college at this point.  Your world is feeling completely weird, like you haven't slept in days and all your nerves are numb.  That's okay.  You are okay.  Believe me, this year is going to help you so much.

And when it's done, you'll go to school.  And it will be the best thing ever.

You are probably now working at your job at Sylvan as a Student Aid.  I know the job feels weird at the moment and overwhelming (how on earth are you supposed to remember where everything goes or comes from or what you're supposed to pull each hour?!), but  you are going to love it in about a month.  The kids are great, the teachers are pretty great, and the hours are good.

My advice while you're there?

Learn as much as you can.  Learn from the teachers, learn from the kids, learn from the parents.  Learn about yourself as you work with these wonderful people.  The job may not be perfect, no job is, but it is the best job to date that you will have.  Believe me.  Leaving there in two years will be necessary to help you grow and come into your own, but no job will be as sweet as working at Sylvan.

(You're going to find yourself thinking about it at each job that requires you to wake up at 3 am to work with horrible managers.  You're going to think about it and the kids while you're standing for six hours at King Soopers, trying to ignore the rude customers who greedily grab off your sample table.

Those jobs are necessary, though.  Believe me.  With each one, you'll learn a little more about yourself.)

I know right now you are in a slump.  You feel like everything is fuzzy and you can't feel.  I know you still keep a razor hidden in your bathroom drawers, your scissors always within arm reach, your hoodie always near by.  Those things make you feel for a moment, but you will always be found out.  You will always have to deal with the consequences of them.  And the scars, both emotionally and physically, will remain a long time.

You hate how it controls you but you don't feel like you will ever overcome it.  Trust me, you will.  You will still think about it sometimes when things are hard.  And it will never fully leave you.  But you will overcome the urge to harm yourself.  As I write you this, you have gone nearly four years without an incident.  

It will be three years when you start to develop panic attacks.  That is when doctors will finally take you seriously.  You will be diagnosed for depression when it's really anxiety and you'll go off and on various meds.  But eventually you'll be able to learn coping skills and how to kill the panic, kill the sadness and pain.

And on those days you can't, the days you can barely get out of bed or the panic sneaks up on you, your support system will carry you.  It is not weakness like you think it is.  It is strength to allow them to help you.  Your support system now is good, but doesn't really know how to help.  But in a few  years... Oh, believe me, you will have a great support system soon.  Let them help you.

I know you are hung up on that boy you've liked for the past two years.  He's going to ask you to his homecoming this fall.  You are going to be ecstatic.  But it's not going to be the way you expected and everything is going to feel wrong.  You won't know why at first, but after the weekend passes, you'll realize that he wasn't what you thought he was.  It will break your heart, but you are strong.

You will bounce back.  You will be okay.  There will be others you find funny, cute, smart - enjoy your crushes, but don't let them dominate you.  Don't let them drive you to do stupid things.

It will be three years from now, when you have given up on finding anyone, that he finds you.  He won't be what you thought you wanted: he's not tall, nor is he romantic in the traditional sense, and he doesn't write poetry.

 He's funny, though, and smart, and incredibly dorky.  He'll understand your zombie jokes and Star Trek references and he'll love MST3K when you introduce him to it.  He's exactly what you need.  Be open.

Right now, you don't feel attractive.  You feel fat, so so fat.  Let me tell you something.  You are not fat.  You are not ugly.  You are beautiful.  You have had the fat mindset since you were 15, and it's wrong.  It is a lie, a horrible ugly lie that the industries around you have sold you.  I wish you could see how beautiful you are, inside and out.

As time progresses, you won't be able to shake the feeling of fat; it's going to haunt you, constantly.  It sets you up for weight gain over the next six years.  As you struggle with your weight, you'll discover problems with your liver, with your thyroid.  You'll learn of all the medical history on both sides of your family and you are at a large disadvantage for all of it.  Your clothes will becomes womens sizes instead of misses, and you'll attempt any fad diet you can, which causes you to gain more.

Stop it.  Stop the fad diets, stop the worry.  Your body will do what it's going to do.

If I could impart anything on you, it would be to use gentle words with yourself.  Stop telling yourself lies in the mirror, 18 year old me.  You are not fat.  You are not stupid.  You are beautiful and kind and you're about to be pretty successful with stuff.

So wear the red lipstick and play with your hair.  You can so totally pull it off.

Right now you feel lonely, like things are caving in on you.  Soon, you will have more friends.  Trust me on this.  You will have friends you can go out with, gossip with, take day trips with.  Some will stay, some will go.  Some you will have to help out the door because they are bad for you.  Others will enter and take their places.  It ebbs and flows, like a tide, a current in the creek you miss.

  And you're also going to learn that you like having time by yourself.  You will learn that you enjoy your own company, and that is perfectly fine.

(You'll never really get over your fear of the dark though.  Sorry about that.  That viewing of the Exorcist that dad showed us when we were 12 really did fuck us up.  On the bright side, you're going to discover zombie movies pretty soon, and those rock.  As for the dark thing, I recommend holiday lights up year round.)

At this point in your life, you are a devoted Christian.  It feels right to you and it's all you know.  It's comfortable and beautiful and you love it.  And that is good.  But in a few years, things are going to shift and you're going to find yourself drawn to other ideas.  You're going to find that you love the idea of a goddess as opposed to a god, to nature and energy work.

You'll feel conflicted because it's all so different; relax.  You will figure out how things fit together, how it works best for you.  You will find your way.  You will keep your Christian roots and add to it what feels right.  As you grow, you're going to learn that being spiritual is not a path set in rigid stones and it will liberate you.

You are powerful.  Remember that.

(You'll also discover that you have a natural ability to candle magic and rune reading.  Don't be afraid of it.  It is all connected to the higher being you worship and adore.)

You are going to experience some really stressful situations in a few years.  There will be deaths and near deaths and hospitals and trips and a lot of tears.  I mean, you could probably cry the Mississippi at some point.

But it is all going to be worth it.  The joy will outweigh the grief.

(I don't want to spoil too much, but you're going to need to start thinking about that wedding you think you're never going to get.  Cause you're going to get it pretty soon.)

As you grow, you're going to question everything.  And I do mean everything.  You'll question your sexuality, your faith, your goals, your life.  You'll question teachers, bosses, friends, enemies.  This is all part of it.  And it's awesome and it never ends.  You will always be learning about yourself and the world around you.  It rocks.

Be gentle with yourself, 18 year old me.  This time will not last forever.  Eventually you will be happy and things will work.  Trust me.

I love you, and I wish I had told you.

My nearly 24 year old self

P.S.:  When you turn 21, skip the margarita.  You'll like it, but it will make you way tipsy.  You won't like beer too much, but go for a Guinness.  Trust me on this; you will like that one. ;)

Changes

Hey there, dear readers.

(I'm not even going to address the absence.)

Things are pretty okay in my section of the universe.  I've almost completely re-adjusted to fiance being out of town.  (It's been like what, two and a half weeks?)  I finally am over sleeping with the lights on!  This is huge!  And he'll be home in a week and a half, so I'm pretty happy about that.  :)

I went shopping for a swimsuit last week.  It was not the best thing that has ever happened to me.  See, I'm not exactly a small girl.  Rather, I was a big girl to begin with and then I went and gained an extra 40 or 50 pounds the past few years.  And it was kind of brought to my attention when Wal-Mart didn't carry a suit large enough for me.

I ended up at JCPenney's (not the store I worked at a few years ago; I will never, ever go back to that hellhole) and got a cute suit that was also on sale.  While there, I found this dress I liked and decided to try it on for a confidence boost.  It fit wonderfully and I thought I looked pretty good.  My mom was with me and told me it slimmed me down and looked good.  So I had her take a picture of me in it.

Um.

I didn't realize how heavy I was until I looked at that picture.

Now, before anyone gets mad at me for feeling bad about my weight, let me explain some things.  I am nearly 24 years old.  I have a low thyroid, high cholesterol, non-alcoholic fatty liver disease, and a family history of heart attacks, hardened arteries, and diabetes.  Some times, I stop breathing in my sleep and wake myself up.

I am basically a walking time bomb.  I needed a wake up call.

You would think the diagnosis of liver disease would do it.  But it took looking at a picture of myself in a dress that I thought was cute to realize how bad I've let things go.  This isn't to say that I'm a slob or anything - I shower regularly, I dress well, I carry myself well.  I just had a lot of setbacks the past few years that have caused me to gain a crazy amount of weight.

What happened over the weekend was I realized that I am getting married in less than a year and I do not want to look like that in my wedding pictures.

So I'm using a program on my phone that I've used before (and it works, I just chose not to stay with it last time) called My Fitness Pal.  Basically, it tracks my calorie consumption.  I'm on 1340 calories a day; when I exercise, I gain back calories.

In a week, I've lost 6 pounds.  I think those are probably from cutting soda out of my life and flushing my body with water (I never drink enough water) and I expect it to slow down.  But if I could be down 20 pounds by August, when I go dress shopping, that would be amazing.  The goal is to be down a total of 40 to 50 pounds by my wedding in May.  That puts me at a weight that is still high for me, but is healthier than where I am.  It also is where I was when I met my fiance back in 2011.

So that's life for me now.  It really is a lifestyle change.  I plan on staying with it and I am hoping it works.  I'm also praying a lot, and I feel rather confident that whoever is watching me up there is going to help me out too.

On top of all this, my family is in the process of moving from one apartment to another across town.  This is a positive move, as it means I'll be able to walk to catch the train in the mornings for school.  It's also positive for the whole family because there are so many places to walk to around the new complex.  There are two grocery stores, several restaurants, a movie theater, and an ice cream place, to name a few.  So I think we're all pretty excited.

But seriously, moving is hard work.  And it's difficult without my fiance, who is awesome at packing and heavy lifting.  As he keeps reassuring me on the phone, it will be okay.  We will get it done.  And I believe him.

It's still a lot though.

And that is your lovely update. :) I'm off to pack a box before bed.

~Meaghan