It's been a really long time since I've written. And a lot has happened. My brother died. My divorce is less than 30 days away from being final. My one year anniversary came and passed. I spent a weekend away with a new boy. And I still cry. A lot. And I kind of stopped writing.

After my brother died it's been really hard to get myself back into doing things for myself. I've put a lot of time into filling my schedule up with everything I possibly can - work appointments, after work functions and meetings, bible studies, dinners with friends, craft nights, TV marathons, baseball games, dinner with my family, a second job. I feel a lot of guilt for not spending time with my family, my little brother. And for not missing my other brother more. I don't think about him, hardly ever. That's just wrong. I think about my asshole husband and my messed up wedding and divorce more than I think about my dead brother. And I know that's not right. That's not normal. My therapist would say it's completely normal. I don't know how much I trust her sometimes.

And so, I stopped writing because, well, I didn't know what to write about and I don't think I wanted to see any of these thoughts on (virtual) paper. I'm lost right now. I don't know who I am or where I'm suppose to go. I know that I can't leave because my family needs me, but I don't know that I can stay here much longer. People are already starting to move on, move past the drama and except life and things as they are - messed up. I'm ready to move on too, but my heads doesn't seem to let me.

Where did I go? Where am I?

old friends.

Hung out with an old friend tonight. We've been friends since we were six or seven. We couldn't be more different, but somehow we've managed to stay great friends. She's one of those people where we can always just pick up where we left off. She's one of the few people that I feel the most comfortable to be myself with. I think we've just always respected each other for who we are, and those kind of friends are priceless.

home.

Today was the first time I think I've ever actually missed my new home. I was very ready to be home after this weekend, in my own bed and familiar with my surroundings. I guess that means that I'm starting to really think of this place as a safe haven, and I guess that is a good thing.

I'm really hoping for a better week this week. Last week sent me on a tailspin. Possible new job (in a new city), divorce papers, finding e's flash drive with all his lyrics, songs, our vows, etc... a weekend away with new friends and people I didn't know. Being on the float trip was the first time I found myself actually missing e. Up until now I didn't miss him. I've been so mad at him that missing him wasn't an option. But being in an environment, full of people in relationships, hooking up, etc... I missed him. Driving home today, I missed him. Sitting here right now writing, I miss him. I don't want to miss him. I don't want anything from him. Today's my mom's birthday and all I did was sit at the kitchen table and cry.

I did have a nice conversation with rf tonight. It would be nice to have his friendship back. I hope that we can continue talking.

long time.

"It's been a long time" came on over the speaker at work tonight. Fucking Bastards.

Just when you think things are safe. BAM.

playboy.

Helped a friend try to purge some baggage from her life this weekend. And in the cleaning process we came across some real gems: 1968 playboys and a journal kept by a 14 year old boy, that started with the day that Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin landed on the moon. Those finds were probably worth the hours upon hours of garbage that we dug through to find them. Plus, it helped a friend get a step closer to some closure in her life. That alone was worth the dirt, grime and hard work.

dreams.

I've got a sink full of dirty dishes and I couldn't be happier. An amazing night with new friends.

Two nights ago all I wanted to do was curl up in a hole and stay there for a week. How do you control your dreams? Is it at all possible? My dreams have been haunting my sleep again. Every time I think that I'm moving on and life is getting easier these dreams attack me in the middle of the night and remind me that I'm still struggling with some emotions.

I've got a boy that I'm flirting with, I've got amazing friends both old and new and I'm looking forward to what's to come. Why do I have these dreams?

If I confront these emotions and say the things that I say in my dreams, will that make me feel better? I have a hard time believing that it will.

new friends.

I think I have some new friends. :)

shifting.

Tonight felt like things shifted.

New people, new friends, are really hard to make in St. Louis. I've heard people from outside of St. Louis say this before, that St. Louis is really clicky, but I never really felt the pains of that before now. Now, when I'm trying to meet new people and start a new life for myself, I get it. St. Louis is clicky. People here for the most part are lifers. They grew up here and stay here, or they grew up here, went away to college and then came back and hang out with the same people they did in High School. That's why the #1 question that St. Louisians ask is "Where did you go to High School?"

This makes it hard to meet new people, because no one in St. Louis is really looking to meet new people. They already know a comfortable amount of people and they don't need to know anyone else. They're content and that's okay. But tonight I met a group of new people that are really great. And you know what... none of them are from St. Louis. They are all transplants of some sort.

I'm proud of myself, as a St. Louisian, that I pushed myself outside of the St. Louis stereotype and met new people. Tonight things shifted - for the better. And I feel a little hope that life is going to be okay.

bugs.

I have to figure out how to kill bugs on my own. I hate bugs. Not spiders. Spiders I can manage, for the most part. But bugs, creepy crawly bugs, I don't do. And now I have to figure out how to kill them, because there is no man here to step in and act like the big tough guy and kill the bug. If I want it dead then I have to do it myself.

Tonight I lie in bed wondering where that bug went to. The one that I didn't kill.

new home.

Moved into the new home and pretty much hate it. I know, I'm being rash. I need to give it time. But, right now, I hate it. Not as much as I hated it 5 hours ago, before my friends helped me make it feel more manageable, but I still really don't like it. I guess I just thought I would feel a deeper connection with this space. It's my first home, all on my lonesome. I should feel pride and accomplishment. Instead I feel betrayal and angst. There was a time where all I wanted was my own place. One to call my very own, decorate as I want and be responsible for everything inside. But now, as I'm being forced into this decision because of choices that others have made, I pretty much despise it. I think that's really the heart of the issue. I didn't chose this for myself. My husband made the decision that he wanted something different and I had to in-turn adjust. And because this home is not one that I chose on my own, I hate it.

But, one thing I do love. My friends. M & C earned major points today.

wiped clean.

When will it ever get easy and not awkward to hear people talk about their amazing wedding stories. Especially with a group of people you don't know and who don't know your story. The fact of the matter is, I don't have an awful wedding story - I actually have a really great one. But it's one that I don't feel like I can tell because it comes with all kinds of questions. I have an amazing story that I feel like I can't talk about. How unfair is that? How ridiculous is that? I know that I CAN tell it, but who wants to the person who turns the discussion from happy to depressing? Even if it's not my intention, as soon as someone asks me "how long have you been married?" suddenly it becomes a whole other story. One that I don't always want to have to go through.

So, being in this situation tonight, I just sit there like I've never been married. Never planned a wedding, never had a husband, don't have any stories to tell. The last 8 months to 2 years of my life just don't exist. They get wiped from past, my history.

I wanna go home.

This is not my street
This is not my house
That is not my bed
This is not my town
Another day another night
Another night another day
I wanna go home
I can’t find the way

The levee broke the water came
Went all the way up to my roof
I crawled up there and cried
What else could I could do?
Another day another night
Another night another day
I wanna go home
I can’t find the way

A boat brought me to I-10
I sat there three days, maybe four
Thousands stranded on the interstate
Every hour boats brought more
Another day another night
Another night another day
We wanna go home
We can’t find the way

With nothing but our dreams
And memories of who we’ve been
Scattered forth like seeds
At the mercy of the wind
Another day another night
Another night another day
We wanna go home
We can’t find the way

Another day another night
Another night another day
We wanna go home
We can’t find the way

~Mary Gauthier

didn't do it.

Tonight was the first night that I think I could have actually gone through with it. Laying there in the water, floating just under the surface, and everything going still and quiet. The idea was so completely comforting. Life just felt like it would stand still for a moment, an eternity, and there would be time for me catch up.

Obviously, I'm writing about it now so I didn't go through with it. But I've never been that close before. I've thought about it, but never in a way that I would go through with it. Tonight was different. Something in me was different.

outside in.

I'm feeling very sad today. I miss all my friends and I had a dream last night that definitely recognized that I miss them and that I feel like an outsider these days. I hate when I feel like I'm watching life from the outside, trying to fight for my way in. My house is quiet and so am I.

redefining.

The other day, while talking to a friend, I asked her opinion on defining moments and she said:

"I believe that other people define you, and you have your own definition of who you are on top of that. And everyday you are defining yourself and who you are based on the decisions that you make in that day. And during a period of change you redefine yourself over and over until that defining moment where change occurs." (or something like that)

The part that stuck with me so much was the "other people define you." I hadn't thought about that, but I believe that to be true. By what you put out into the world people have an opinion of who you are. And over time, whether you want to or not, their opinion can weigh more than your own sometimes. And then over even more time you start to believe that their definition of you is the true definition, even if you don't feel like that is the true definition of you. And suddenly you are defined by someone else, everyone else, and you have no true definition of yourself.

Now my question is, when that happens, when you have allowed other people to define who you are, is it possible to redefine yourself? Especially amongst those people who already have their mind made up of who you are. Can you redefine yourself in their eyes, to be the true definition of who you believe you are? Can you redefine a relationship, with a friend? a lover? a family member?

Or do you have to cut yourself off and start over fresh, with new relationships? Do you have to lose everything in order to redefine your life?

defining moments.

The dictionary defines "defining moment" as a point at which the essential nature or character of a person, group, etc... is revealed or identified.

My question is, can you have more than one defining moment in your life? As you grow older and the world around you changes, and the people around you change and the way you think changes, can you have new defining moments at every change in your life? Is it in fact, a defining moment that causes that change to happen? So, could you say that every time you experience a significant change in your life that you most likely experienced a defining moment?

And what constitutes a defining moment? Does it have to be a moment that is so significant that it changes your life, or could it be as small as getting a new puppy? Do defining moments coincide with light bulbs popping over your head?

I, myself, am going through a defining moment in my life right now. And it has me wondering how many other defining moments have I gone through in my life that have lead me to this defining moment, because ultimately every moment in my life time before this one has lead me to this place. And this moment hurts. It hurts a lot. So, what other moments in my lifetime have lead me to place with such pain? How did I misinterpret those moments that came before this one?

I think for the next couple weeks I am going to do some defining moment soul searching, and try to recount all the defining moments in my life. Moments that might have somehow lead me to this moment now. So bear with me as dig up the past and try to make sense out of the future.

forts.

I just built a fort. And I'm sitting in it right now. When I was a kid I used to build all kinds of forts with my brother. They were amazing. And when I woke up from a nap I had the brilliant idea of building myself a fort. My own little place that I can escape to, all enclosed and just mine. I've struggled to find that spot in this house. The spot that is mine that I can retreat to when I want to be by myself. The spot where I can be creative and get lost in my thoughts without feeling like someone might walk in at any minute. I'm loving my fort right now. Best idea I've had in a long time.

art.

Art calms me. Or more specifically, art museums. When i'm having a moment when I just need to reset myself, I can walk into an art museum and know that it will be quiet, that no one will bother me and I can just get lost in all the hallways and my thoughts. And the art just kind of soaks me in. It embraces me, wrapping me in its arms and holding me tight. And I calm down. My breathing slows, my head clears and life seems manageable. Art doesn't imitate life. Art resets life, for those who are willing to surrender.

waiting.

Waiting sucks. I think that I'm a pretty patient person. In fact, I know that I am. But sometimes, patience seems like the farthest thing from my ability. I hate it. But somehow I always find a way to wait. ugh. blah. ew. pluck.

friendships.

what makes a best friend, a best friend? Just because you've been friends with them the longest, does that make them your "best" friend, because they know you the longest? But what about the friend that you've known for a year that you seem to click with better than anyone else before? Do they get to take over the spot from the person whose been there since forever?

As the best friend of someone, what are your responsibilities? Are you suppose to confront them on everything? Even if you know it's going to probably destroy the friendship, for at least a little while? I think that you're probably suppose to. But how do you do that? And what if the best friend has a significant other in there life? Are you suppose to back off and let the significant other deal with these sort of "tough" situations?

As the best friend of someone, are you suppose to respond to every message they ever send you? text, phone, emails?

What if suddenly you don't feel like you can really talk with your best friend any more? It just doesn't feel natural. You want it to, but it just doesn't. And you don't know why that is.

Happy Birthday to me.

inspiration.

I love moments of inspiration. I attended the Arts & Education Council Awards Dinner tonight, and it's the one time a year that you can find all of the most important people in the arts in St. Louis in one room. Well, most important by means of contributing money and leading the top organizations. But even then, there are still some really inspirational people amongst some of the largest contributors. As I sit there, I can't help to think that at one point in these people's lives (the awardees) they were sitting in my chair, hoping to one day make a difference. It was just the kind of inspiration that I needed to keep me motivated and remind me why I do love my job. And it also gave me motivation to keep at teaching dance to these little kids who frustrate the shit out of me, because I am their first introduction into the arts and who knows, maybe there is a Twyla Tharp in there. (who are we kidding, but still, I could make a difference for these kids) And that is enough for me to keep going. I want to make a difference for someone.

talking out loud.

I talk to myself. Especially when I drive. I think about hypothetical conversations I would have with certain people and then I talk them out loud. Is that weird? I kind of think it is. But, I find that it's really the only way to know if what you're thinking really makes sense - to say it out loud. And in these conversations with myself I always say things poetically. Or if I don't, I always get a chance to redo it. Everything comes out just like I want, and I say everything that I want to.

When I was in grade school and high school I used to practice all my public speeches and presentations out loud. I would stand in front of a mirror and practive everything, word for word. And I was really good at public speaking. Always got A's. In college I got selected to represent my class in a public speaking competition. If I'm prepared for something I can ace it. It's when I have to go off the cuff that I flub everything up. I get antsy and all the words get stuck and jumbled in my head and on the tip of tongue.

If only arguments could be practiced I would be so good.

choices.

I chose love. Some people choose career. But not me. I know that career is important, and that having something to live for, something that let's your passions feed is important. But if it came down to choosing between my career and love, I would chose love. Maybe that's because I don't have a current career that I am fully passionate about, but I don't believe it is. Because people are important. Love is important. There is nothing that would fulfill me the way that love does. And it's not that I believe that you can't have both - I do. I really do think that you can have both career and love. And be passionate about both. But I will always chose love. That is who I am. Because feeling love, giving love, there is nothing like that. There is no feeling that compares. My passion is loving. My passion is in giving love. Love is what makes me thrive.

Listen to me

People don't listen to me. They never have. Even my husband doesn't from to time. I can say something and no one will even blink an eye or acknowledge the fact that I've said something. It's the most frustrating thing ever. It makes me feel so uninteresting. I think it's part of the reason why I've become so afraid to speak up sometimes, because I know that no one is going to care what I have to say. My opinion is dull, and uninteresting, and doesn't matter in the long scheme of things. No one will ever listen to what I have to say or put any weight in it anyway, so why should I? There are times when I just want to scream "fucking listen to me!!!" The only time in my life that I can remember ever really being heard was in high school. I think that is the one time that I had friends that really appreciated what I had to say and respected my opinion. It's probably why I'm still friends with them. Well, some of them.

How do I change that? How do I make people want to listen? How do I revive my confidence to a place where I feel comfortable expressing myself?

impersonator

I've decided that I'm going to learn how to be a better impersonator. And by that I mean an impersonator at all, because right now I'm not capable of impersonating anyone. I've always been extremely jealous of anyone that is capable of successfully impersonating another human being. There are so many times that I watch someone be funny on TV and I think to myself I can totally do that - that's so easy, and then I try and I fail miserably.

My grandmother, who is nearly 90, can no longer speak. Her brain is sharp and fulling functioning, but the wires that translate what she's thinking into speaking out loud no longer work and she can't actually formulate words. You can tell it's so frustrating for her. She knows exactly what she wants to say, but yet can't actually communicate it. This is how I feel when it comes to trying to impersonate another human being. In my head I can do it perfectly, but the minute the words come out of my mouth, or I try to move the way they did, nothing translate properly I look like a complete fool. Ugh. I just want to be able to do it. Simply because it's another way to be funny and I want to be more funny. I want to laugh more. And I want to feel more comfortable with who I am. And I want to be comfortable enough to act like a fool in front of a bunch a people I don't know, and even more so, a bunch of people that I do know.

And I want them to listen to me. Maybe if I put myself out there a little more people would actually listen to me.

Peace

About four weeks ago I was forced to go on a journey. A journey that is, four weeks later, still very much in it's beginning phases. It's challenging everything that I've ever believed in. And everyone that I've ever believed in. It's been a cluster fuck of emotions. I've never been so confused in my life. I've spent many nights crying. I've spent many days crying. I've slept maybe 4 days total. I'm exhausted. Physically. Emotionally. Exhausted. My eyes hurt. My stomache churns. I eat maybe the equivalent of one meal a day. I, at times find myself paralyzed with fear. I don't want to move or even think. My back hurts. My head aches. And my heart sinks inside my chest. And for four weeks all I've wanted was a little peace. Just a few small moments when the world seems to be standing still and nothing is moving any faster, or slower, than I want it to.

Someone New?

I was in 5th grade when my younger brother was in the 2nd grade. That's when I can first remember thinking that I have learn how to do things for myself. It was becoming very apparent that my brother had several learning disabilities and attention disorders. And for the rest of my brother's academic career all energy was placed into him.

I guess there could have been two ways that I dealt with this. I could have fought back and tried to out do my brother's problems so that my parents had to pay attention to me too, or I could try to be the perfect student, daughter, friend, so that my parents had one less thing to worry about. I chose the later. And I thrived off my parents praise and just knowing that I was making life easier for them was enough for me.

Don't get me wrong, I don't feel like I got slighted in the least growing up in my family. There was lots of love and support and praise. But in trying to figure out how I got to where I am now - a total people pleaser who doesn't know how please myself, I have to try to figure out where it started. While my parents and brother were constantly fighting about grades, homework, class discipline, I was locked in my room doing my homework and making sure that I didn't do anything that would create additional stress for my parents. I stayed busy with student council, dance classes, national honors society, volunteer work. And making my parents happy made me happy.

And now, as a married 27 year old, I am trying to be completely honest with myself. I have be true to myself and who I am. And hopefully my husband will still love me at the end of all this. And more importantly, that I still love him.

After a lot of crying yesterday, today is my first day in working towards this person. This life.

The Most Put Together Person.

Some days I feel really alone. All the weight in the world is literally sitting on my chest and I have to conscientiously tell myself to breath. With every deep breath in I feel temporary relief, but only to have the weight come immediately rushing back. I make myself count to ten. And then if that doesn't work then I just let myself cry. Sometimes it's a full on sob, and other times just a few stray tears. Either way, crying seems to be the only thing that naturally lifts the weight and let's me breath in regular intervals once again.

And in these times I feel that there is no one to turn to. That I am completely alone in this world. I go into my head and I stay there. I must figure this out on my own. I must not burden anyone else with my problems. They are my problems and they will stay my problems.

This is how I went through most of my life. Channeling all my emotions inside. Making people believe that I was one of the most put together people to ever reside on this Earth. Really. People have actually said those exact words to me. "Nicole, you are the most put together person I've ever known." And that makes me feel great, and, at the same time, like an anvil has just drop out of the sky and landed on my chest.

That's really heavy. And I'm not sure that I want to be the most put together person anyone has ever known.