Witty For A Change
Sometimes the hardest thing to do in life is listen to those around us. I use my blog as a soundboard with hope that somewhere, someone is listening.
About Me
![My photo](http://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD2boJ10f79hNqCUjyH_IsG05pg0gvQ4eeDuDQA6O0LUPxLZLdKRTMFWCSf2PqT-0Ac_laWZ9fP17BhaionzsxmbqmpBU_K63uDqNfaMvqcOQ-OYmH8Uu1mLNcLWpd1sc/s220/10636324_10205230281216003_7468052020391438975_n.jpg)
- Wittyforachange
- I write because sometimes words are the only thing that can save you.
Wednesday, October 22, 2014
A reunion of sorts...
While I've purposely avoided this blog, a class assignment has brought me back. Looking good for you guys because, this girl happens to be an overachiever! Well, she used to be. Oh, I guess I should tell you that Beauty School never really panned out. I don't like the idea of somebody who knows less than me; telling me what I've already known for years. That control freak coming out, I suppose. What wasn't abandoned in the past year or so was my urge to learn. I did go back to school. I'm currently enrolled in Ohio Business College here in Sandusky. For better or worse, it's here and I'm present.
You've been warned.
Monday, July 1, 2013
Butterflies and chaos...
Holy long time, no blog! It's been a whole year (give or take a month or so)since my last blog. I don't necessarily believe that's a bad or a good thing. Looking back on my last blog is good reassurance for me, in regards to my travel.
Life is... tricky. What's that saying, "Life is 10% what happens to me and 90% of how I react to it." I don't know John Maxwell, but I can't help but feel like he was on to something with that one.
I'm serious. Think about it. Think of something that happened to you this morning. How did you react? My shining example of course will be my dog (which I will get to later) crying in my ear because she wanted to be out of the bedroom. While, it probably would have been just as easy to get out of bed and let her out.
I really wanted to sleep, so I let her cry. Which caused quite the reaction with members of the house (furry friends and humans) who screamed about it until I actually did wake up (three hours into)Who was my four legged friend's stubborn crying hurting? By the reaction she got, and continues to get on a daily basis, you'd think she had viciously mauled something.
I guess my point is... you can't spend so much time worrying about the little things. Over-reaction is a major problem for those around me. Myself included... (sometimes) You miss out on all the big things that way.
Speaking of big things. My, what a year does! I am still in recovery as far as my grief goes, but for the first time in my entire being, I feel lighter. I never really believed that this would be a route I'd take in life, but here I am. My soul is smiling, my heart is singing and I'm happy. Like genuinely down to the bone, happy. I suppose nobody knows me better than you guys. You continue to stick by me, blog after blog. Location after new blog location. You know my heart, my words, my being, my whole self. This.
This is a HUGE step for me.
He's making me break all of my rules though. Really changing the way I see things. It's good. He makes me forget all about the day to day bullshit that I am constantly being put through. (relationship w/ my mother is not well. Work is basically ruining my life) He just... came into my life exactly when I needed him the most.
and that's important.
Thursday, May 31, 2012
Long time no blog!
Burnt out. And I mean that in every sense of the word. Everything I write lately lacks inspiration, passion and drive. It’s sad. It makes ME sad. And maybe this has to do with the drama/stress in my personal life- that I can’t enjoy the things I love. It has been on a rise these past couple of months (stress/drama). I don’t know, I just feel like I’m the worst person in the world for giving up?
The story of course lacks depth and there will be many confused. I’m not sure if I’m prepared for the consequences of blowing the lid off on this one. Actually - I know I’m not prepared for the backlash. It’s so unlike me though. I’m usually content with starting a fire and joyfully watching it burn and ruin everything in its path. This is different though. I’m not fighting with a friend, or an ex boyfriend. This is family. And while I’m confident that all will be well in time, the waiting is the worst part.
I’m just… I’m tired? I’m really tired.
This used to be easy.
Thursday, December 8, 2011
THIS!! ♥
"Date a girl who reads. Date a girl who spends her money on books instead of clothes. She has problems with closet space because she has too many books. Date a girl who has a list of books she wants to read, who has had a library card since she was twelve.
Find a girl who reads. You’ll know that she does because she will always have an unread book in her bag.She’s the one lovingly looking over the shelves in the bookstore, the one who quietly cries out when she finds the book she wants. You see the weird chick sniffing the pages of an old book in a second hand book shop? That’s the reader. They can never resist smelling the pages, especially when they are yellow.
She’s the girl reading while waiting in that coffee shop down the street. If you take a peek at her mug, the non-dairy creamer is floating on top because she’s kind of engrossed already. Lost in a world of the author’s making. Sit down. She might give you a glare, as most girls who read do not like to be interrupted. Ask her if she likes the book.
Buy her another cup of coffee.
Let her know what you really think of Murakami. See if she got through the first chapter of Fellowship. Understand that if she says she understood James Joyce’s Ulysses she’s just saying that to sound intelligent. Ask her if she loves Alice or she would like to be Alice.
It’s easy to date a girl who reads. Give her books for her birthday, for Christmas and for anniversaries. Give her the gift of words, in poetry, in song. Give her Neruda, Pound, Sexton, Cummings. Let her know that you understand that words are love. Understand that she knows the difference between books and reality but by god, she’s going to try to make her life a little like her favorite book. It will never be your fault if she does.
She has to give it a shot somehow.
Lie to her. If she understands syntax, she will understand your need to lie. Behind words are other things: motivation, value, nuance, dialogue. It will not be the end of the world.
Fail her. Because a girl who reads knows that failure always leads up to the climax. Because girls who understand that all things will come to end. That you can always write a sequel. That you can begin again and again and still be the hero. That life is meant to have a villain or two.
Why be frightened of everything that you are not? Girls who read understand that people, like characters, develop. Except in the Twilightseries.
If you find a girl who reads, keep her close. When you find her up at 2 AM clutching a book to her chest and weeping, make her a cup of tea and hold her. You may lose her for a couple of hours but she will always come back to you. She’ll talk as if the characters in the book are real, because for a while, they always are.
You will propose on a hot air balloon. Or during a rock concert. Or very casually next time she’s sick. Over Skype.
You will smile so hard you will wonder why your heart hasn’t burst and bled out all over your chest yet. You will write the story of your lives, have kids with strange names and even stranger tastes. She will introduce your children to the Cat in the Hat and Aslan, maybe in the same day. You will walk the winters of your old age together and she will recite Keats under her breath while you shake the snow off your boots.
Date a girl who reads because you deserve it. You deserve a girl who can give you the most colorful life imaginable. If you can only give her monotony, and stale hours and half-baked proposals, then you’re better off alone. If you want the world and the worlds beyond it, date a girl who reads.
Or better yet, date a girl who writes.”
—Rosemary Urquico
Find a girl who reads. You’ll know that she does because she will always have an unread book in her bag.She’s the one lovingly looking over the shelves in the bookstore, the one who quietly cries out when she finds the book she wants. You see the weird chick sniffing the pages of an old book in a second hand book shop? That’s the reader. They can never resist smelling the pages, especially when they are yellow.
She’s the girl reading while waiting in that coffee shop down the street. If you take a peek at her mug, the non-dairy creamer is floating on top because she’s kind of engrossed already. Lost in a world of the author’s making. Sit down. She might give you a glare, as most girls who read do not like to be interrupted. Ask her if she likes the book.
Buy her another cup of coffee.
Let her know what you really think of Murakami. See if she got through the first chapter of Fellowship. Understand that if she says she understood James Joyce’s Ulysses she’s just saying that to sound intelligent. Ask her if she loves Alice or she would like to be Alice.
It’s easy to date a girl who reads. Give her books for her birthday, for Christmas and for anniversaries. Give her the gift of words, in poetry, in song. Give her Neruda, Pound, Sexton, Cummings. Let her know that you understand that words are love. Understand that she knows the difference between books and reality but by god, she’s going to try to make her life a little like her favorite book. It will never be your fault if she does.
She has to give it a shot somehow.
Lie to her. If she understands syntax, she will understand your need to lie. Behind words are other things: motivation, value, nuance, dialogue. It will not be the end of the world.
Fail her. Because a girl who reads knows that failure always leads up to the climax. Because girls who understand that all things will come to end. That you can always write a sequel. That you can begin again and again and still be the hero. That life is meant to have a villain or two.
Why be frightened of everything that you are not? Girls who read understand that people, like characters, develop. Except in the Twilightseries.
If you find a girl who reads, keep her close. When you find her up at 2 AM clutching a book to her chest and weeping, make her a cup of tea and hold her. You may lose her for a couple of hours but she will always come back to you. She’ll talk as if the characters in the book are real, because for a while, they always are.
You will propose on a hot air balloon. Or during a rock concert. Or very casually next time she’s sick. Over Skype.
You will smile so hard you will wonder why your heart hasn’t burst and bled out all over your chest yet. You will write the story of your lives, have kids with strange names and even stranger tastes. She will introduce your children to the Cat in the Hat and Aslan, maybe in the same day. You will walk the winters of your old age together and she will recite Keats under her breath while you shake the snow off your boots.
Date a girl who reads because you deserve it. You deserve a girl who can give you the most colorful life imaginable. If you can only give her monotony, and stale hours and half-baked proposals, then you’re better off alone. If you want the world and the worlds beyond it, date a girl who reads.
Or better yet, date a girl who writes.”
—Rosemary Urquico
Sunday, October 2, 2011
2 years.
"And I just ran out of bandaids,
I don’t even know where to start.
‘Cause you can bandage the damage,
But you never really can fix a heart."
They say that in time, all wounds heal. I don't know if the people who said this really understood the size of all these wounds. For the most part though, this can be chalked up as fact. You make up, you break up. You win, you lose. In time, the pain brought on from those really do heal. It's the big things however.. that just take time. I have to keep my mind busy because when it's not, it gives me time to think and often overthink.
If all things happen for a reason, why are these reasons hard to figure out? Believe me, I've spent the better half of two years trying to find the answer to this. I do think, however, that there are just some things that you have no control over. A realization that I've become most proud of. I've always been somewhat of a control freak. I don't know why, it's in my blood I guess. When it seemed as though things didn't go my way, or weren't going to, I'd always find ways to manipulate situations so they would. In a way, losing my brother was one of those things that I obviously couldn't control, but let's be honest.. I spent the past two years trying to figure out ways to change it, to bring him back. Denial on my part.
I don't think grief is handled in the way it should be, for anybody. Some people can just move on from death and be okay with it. Some people are sad for a while, and then okay. Then there are people like me. My heart was completely cut open the morning we found my brother dead. I keep telling myself that it might have been different if we hadn't seen the body. I keep trying to change the scenario of 'hell' with something I wish it would have looked like instead. I was already in a really bad place in my personal life and October 3rd sealed the coffin.
I've always been strong. I've always taken care of myself. But when you take a hit as big as this, you just.. you can't. I've carried guilt in my heart, or what's left of it, for something that I can't change! I can't and I know I can't! But it's there and my mind won't let me give it up! I've said it before and I'll say it again, guilt is a heavy burden. I know it's not my fault, but in my heart, I can't stop feeling like this. And it just picks and picks and picks and breaks me all over again. People have told me that it's okay to hate him. It's okay to be angry at him, but truth me told? I'm afraid of being angry. I've been turned inside out with the guilt alone that 'anger' might actually kill me.
Two years and I'm still desperately searching for a reason why my brother isn't here. Why 20 years old is an acceptable age to die. Don't get me wrong, I'm sure there are some GREAT unforseen reasons or will be down the road. I just.. I don't hate him.. I hate the situation I've been put in because of it.
So that makes me human right?
I don’t even know where to start.
‘Cause you can bandage the damage,
But you never really can fix a heart."
They say that in time, all wounds heal. I don't know if the people who said this really understood the size of all these wounds. For the most part though, this can be chalked up as fact. You make up, you break up. You win, you lose. In time, the pain brought on from those really do heal. It's the big things however.. that just take time. I have to keep my mind busy because when it's not, it gives me time to think and often overthink.
If all things happen for a reason, why are these reasons hard to figure out? Believe me, I've spent the better half of two years trying to find the answer to this. I do think, however, that there are just some things that you have no control over. A realization that I've become most proud of. I've always been somewhat of a control freak. I don't know why, it's in my blood I guess. When it seemed as though things didn't go my way, or weren't going to, I'd always find ways to manipulate situations so they would. In a way, losing my brother was one of those things that I obviously couldn't control, but let's be honest.. I spent the past two years trying to figure out ways to change it, to bring him back. Denial on my part.
I don't think grief is handled in the way it should be, for anybody. Some people can just move on from death and be okay with it. Some people are sad for a while, and then okay. Then there are people like me. My heart was completely cut open the morning we found my brother dead. I keep telling myself that it might have been different if we hadn't seen the body. I keep trying to change the scenario of 'hell' with something I wish it would have looked like instead. I was already in a really bad place in my personal life and October 3rd sealed the coffin.
I've always been strong. I've always taken care of myself. But when you take a hit as big as this, you just.. you can't. I've carried guilt in my heart, or what's left of it, for something that I can't change! I can't and I know I can't! But it's there and my mind won't let me give it up! I've said it before and I'll say it again, guilt is a heavy burden. I know it's not my fault, but in my heart, I can't stop feeling like this. And it just picks and picks and picks and breaks me all over again. People have told me that it's okay to hate him. It's okay to be angry at him, but truth me told? I'm afraid of being angry. I've been turned inside out with the guilt alone that 'anger' might actually kill me.
Two years and I'm still desperately searching for a reason why my brother isn't here. Why 20 years old is an acceptable age to die. Don't get me wrong, I'm sure there are some GREAT unforseen reasons or will be down the road. I just.. I don't hate him.. I hate the situation I've been put in because of it.
So that makes me human right?
Sunday, September 4, 2011
I always have the most success when writing as a character, whether it be RP or working on my novel 'Being Cinderella.' The second, however, that I have to actually express my ideals or feelings, I hit a brick wall. Usually head first, because it always ends in headache. I used to be so good at this, so it boggles my mind that lately I can't do it. I guess it's because I don't know what I'm feeling. 9/10 times my mood is morose at best. I don't have it in me to be anything else. When I'm happy, I get sad because I want to share this happiness with others, and they're not here. When I'm upset, I keep it in, because who wants to be brought down by other people's emotions?? I just have alot of feelings these days, haha!
With September now here, I know that the month will breeze by and October will pop right in. I say it'll be okay and I'll get through these two months easy, but then there's the holidays and I cry. It's hard to forget someone who gave you so much to remember. And no, I'm not at all trying to forget my brother. I just want the hurt to go away, and the second it feels like it's desolving, it's back full force. October 3rd will be two years and that's two years too long without your best friend. Which was what my brother was. He was my best friend. And it's not like we just had a fight and eventually one of us will bite the bullet, get over our stubbornness and forgive and be back to normal. He's never coming back. Which in turn, buries the hurt deeper. my biggest fear is that the hole in my heart won't ever heal. Then what? Back to robot living?
With September now here, I know that the month will breeze by and October will pop right in. I say it'll be okay and I'll get through these two months easy, but then there's the holidays and I cry. It's hard to forget someone who gave you so much to remember. And no, I'm not at all trying to forget my brother. I just want the hurt to go away, and the second it feels like it's desolving, it's back full force. October 3rd will be two years and that's two years too long without your best friend. Which was what my brother was. He was my best friend. And it's not like we just had a fight and eventually one of us will bite the bullet, get over our stubbornness and forgive and be back to normal. He's never coming back. Which in turn, buries the hurt deeper. my biggest fear is that the hole in my heart won't ever heal. Then what? Back to robot living?
Thursday, June 30, 2011
I love my job.
I love that I start beauty school this September.
I love that I'm writing ALOT more.
I love that once again my closest "friends" have let me down.
I love that I'm not a robot, but these fucking "emo-tions" are OUT OF CONTROL.
I hate love. I love hate.
I hate that I work every Friday and Saturday Night.
I hate that I play black ops with a room full of cry baby bitches. (I'm looking at you Greg ;)
I hate that I was dumped for an old bitch (AGAIN - long story)
I hate that I let myself even feel a glimmer of hope in relationships.
This week has been a week of nothing but love and hate all over the board. I don't want your sympathy, it's just the way it is. Ya feel me?
I love that I start beauty school this September.
I love that I'm writing ALOT more.
I love that once again my closest "friends" have let me down.
I love that I'm not a robot, but these fucking "emo-tions" are OUT OF CONTROL.
I hate love. I love hate.
I hate that I work every Friday and Saturday Night.
I hate that I play black ops with a room full of cry baby bitches. (I'm looking at you Greg ;)
I hate that I was dumped for an old bitch (AGAIN - long story)
I hate that I let myself even feel a glimmer of hope in relationships.
This week has been a week of nothing but love and hate all over the board. I don't want your sympathy, it's just the way it is. Ya feel me?
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