(March 2nd, 2009. 3:30pm.)

Just to keep you in the know.

So when I found the e-mail in my inbox asking if I'd like to renew this place sometime in January, I told myself I'd have to consider, and bookmarked the idea in my head. Then I forgot and realized my website had been suspended for who knows how long. And here I am today!

So what have I been up to? Well, a lot. I turned twenty-one nearly a month ago. I had some amazingly American-ized sushi. I threw a party at my apartment that went all right, saw Coraline, went to a local bar for a couple drinks and then watched the Grammy's. Exciting, yes?

The week before this happened, however, was a trying time. My grandfather - my dad's father - passed away. He'd been suffering from Parkinson's for a few years and nearing the end of January contracted Pneumonia. His funeral was the weekend before my birthday, so my family flew up to Canada last minute. On a positive note, it was great seeing some of the family and meeting people I've never met before. The ceremony was quite beautiful too.

Last I updated, I had only one kitten. Over Christmas, I picked up a friend for her. His name is Maison:

It took them a while to get along, and now they're best friends.

This is a quick update, yes, but I'm a busy girl. Between work and school (which, by the way, I am only taking one class this semester because it has become far too much, and because missing that week in early February was going to drop my grades in all of the classes I got rid of) and bettering myself I don't have time for much excitement. Then again, I could be lying.

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(December 5th, 2008. 11:45pm.)

My heart breaks easily these days.

The semester is coming to an end and I have nothing to show for it. Well, that's not true. I did a lot of work, but it was all half-assed work. Work I can be proud of, partially, but I feel like I spent the semester slacking to the extreme - right up to the limit before I broke my rules. I am of the sound mind that anything below an A- is unacceptable. I coasted through high school. I still have yet to study too hard for any one class in college. I have absolutely no ability to be truly "academic" and on top of that, possess no study skills. And thus, heartbreak number one: the semester is almost over. That means my journey with my tutees is over and I won't see their writing progress anymore. It means my Advanced Fiction class - "disfunctional family" as I refer to it in my head - will be over and there are people I don't want to let go of yet. I tend to feel that way about at least one class a year. I'm not very good with farewells.

This brings me to the epiphany I had this semester, thanks to my Advanced teacher. This novel I've been working on for nearing two-ish years? This story I've been telling in either third person or first, through the eyes of this guy Brayden... has to be told through the eyes of Tilden. The story has always been about her, but I felt like it was more about how he saw her. But then I was struggling with moving the story along. I was growing bored with everything I wrote. It was suggested to me that I try it from her eyes, so I did. Just one simple story - the scene where they first met. It had character, voice, movement. I realized that not only is the story about her, but has to be told by her. I have a lot of rewriting to do. I feel like I'm doing Brayden wrong in a way. Heartbreaking.

I thought I saw Jodi today outside of the store. I went on a break just before nine tonight and as I walked over to Auntie Anne's to get a soda, this woman was walking towards me. She was tall, short hair, and the way she was wrapped up in her clothes... I did a double take. And then I choked up. I, luckily, was on phones for the hour afterward and sulked in the back for a while. I miss her. I miss a lot of family I haven't seen in ages. That becomes heartbreak number three.

I kind of miss being at home sometimes. I love this apartment. I love this freedom, so to speak. "Growing up" isn't half bad either. I've always been a lot more mature than my age, so this seems second nature. Of course there's the downside of bills, groceries, etc. The expenses pile up. I don't make enough, nor do I work enough hours (between three jobs) to do anything more than just float by. So, besides having a bit less weight financially to hold on my shoulders, when I'm down, it's my mother and sister that I miss. And when I feel like watching a movie, it's my brother I miss. And when I see middle-aged men on the El, it's my father I miss. I miss hugging my mom whenever I please. All of that? Breaks my heart.

I have been a wreck. A well composed wreck. I have moments of euphoric happiness, followed by moments of numbness. It could be a day of difference or an hour. I wouldn't call it depression. It's less solid than that. It's zombie-esque, like I can't feel anything at all but this absurd tingle. If you could feel "tingle" as an emotion. I look at things and consider how amazing everything in the world can be, and at the same time I can hate that very thing. Or love it. From the way the light hits a corner of the room to the way my cat nuzzles her face against my neck when she wants me to wake up, from a line I hear in a classmate's story to a moment I create in my head.

Crucio. Ennervate. Deletrius. Imperio.

Heartbreak.

Robot.

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(October 3rd, 2008. 6:20pm.)

This is what happens when you get a life.

Let me specify the major changes that have occurred over the past six months of my life.

One. I moved. I am officially out of my parents house - though I visit often, as I still work out there - and in the city. Life has changed drastically. I now have less money, less time, less food, and different kinds of stress. The grass is always greener, right? I'm loving the city. Except for little things like, for instance, how I was on the train today and an announcement is made over the intercom. The voice overpowers the music ringing through my headphones and into my ears. The voice warns, "Attention all passengers. Please keep an eye on your belongings, as there are known pickpocketers on the train." Joy.

Two. I have begun my second semester of Advanced Fiction, and it's something that keeps me busy as hell. I've never written more in my life than I have since I moved into this apartment. I literally write every single day, which is a task I'd struggled with up until this point. My fingers are growing sore with joint pains from pushing pen across paper, slamming out letters on a laptop, scanning lines in books that I love or hate and trying to figure out what about them makes me feel that way. This leads me to...

Three. I am now a Fiction Tutor. I teach others in the Fiction Writing program how to improve their writing. I spend two hours with each individual student, shut in a four by four cubicle with white walls and two chairs facing each other. I take them through the Story Workshop approach, focus solely on their work and in turn, learn about my own shit. It's a lot of work but proving to be very beneficial. However, it takes up 70% of my week and that is killing me - hence not having time to afford a blog update here and there.

Four. I've adopted a kitten. She's crazy. She's adorable. I named her Avery and she hates when I read; she'll chew on my fingers, swat at the pages, lay on top of the book. The same goes for when I'm on my phone, my computer, eating... but in her quiet moments, she's a doll.

Five. I am still working where I used to, which means having to commute almost an hour in hellish traffic throughout the week. Then, I turn around and commute right back. So if you haven't picked up on it yet: I have no time for anything anymore. Hurrah!

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(March 31st, 2008. 11:27pm.)

A High School Flash (Fiction) Back

At one time she would walk around with her head held high. People loved her, people knew her. She was someone who was missed when gone. She was the kind of person you envied too much to hate. Her smile curled toes & her gaze was capable of heartbreak. She had a name.

A fault arose as years went by & frailty became her middle name. The world she knew slowly ran together, merging like two colors on a damp watercolor canvas. The result was not pretty. She shut herself up; a door was locked in her ind & the key was hidden safely in the back of her weakened heart.

Without a name or a face to place with it, she wandered aimlessly on unnoticed & alone until one day she could bare it no longer. She sat down in the middle of a busy city sidewalk & pulled her legs into her quivering body. The sun beamed overhead, mercilessly baking her unwashed skin as she folded in on herself.

Millions of thoughts swarmed behind her eyes, emotions building up behind the door whose key was safely forgotten. But the door was frail like her & as the feelings heaved, the barricade began to crack. A splinter ran down the middle with a terrifyingly loud rip & the girl closed her eyes as she began to rock back & forth.

Tremors burst through her body in waves & shook her small frame as the lock was broken. All at once she was laughing & crying, smiling & sobbing, loving & despising until everything went black.

Fluttering eyes pry open to reveal a dimming day. A heart beats slowly in rhythm with shallow breathing. She tries to sit up & her heart kicks in, racing against the one of slow melody. The one that doesn't belong to her because it belongs to the arms wrapped tightly around her, the eyes that are slowly opening & accompanied by an unsure smile. She pulls away, an unfamiliar feeling of fear coursing through her body.

When had she last felt anything at all? But she has no time to answer her own question as the arms & the heart & the eyes with the smile stand slowly, connected to the body of a man. And the man's lips are moving, speaking words meant for her. The first words she's truly heard in years. And they're asking her if she's okay, & they're sounding like they actually care. Her heart skips a beat because he's asking her 'what's your name?' but she's fumbling for a response.

She has a name?

Her tongue feels lazy & drunk in her mouth. Its lack of use has left her paralyzed for any words. His arms don't seem to mind as he reaches down & extends a hand. Hesitantly, she places her palm in his & begins her ascent into happiness.

But she's hurting again, her body firmly on the ground. Her arm reminds frozen in the air, empty handed & confused. The muscle in her mouth rolls around, anxious & in desperate need to scream 'why?!' The horrified loon on his face offers a piece of the puzzle but her mind is already reeling. She races through her head in search of the door, her fingers fumbling for a bigger lock this time around. Her heart pounds with such force that her bones rattle.

The eyes of the man companioned now with watery eyes & downward lips glare accusingly at her. He moves to lift up his shirt & reveals the words inscribed on his chest, which read 'I only want love.'

She gasps softly & stares blankly as his shirt lowers while he backs away & her eyes lower to her own hand where his saddened gaze rests.

Carved into her hand, words scream at the top of their voices accusingly.

'I only want sympathy.'

The door flies shut & is locked & bolted. The key is piercing her heart.

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