Kick start my rock and roll heart.

I never looked at moving to Oklahoma as starting over. When you start over, it seems to insinuate there was something you needed to start over from, some sort of trauma that led up to a decision that you needed a clean break, a new change of pace. Like you needed it.

I didn’t need to leave New Mexico. I didn’t need Oklahoma. I was so perfectly happy there. Tom and me had a lot of conversations about it. I told him, “If you can’t be happy at home, then you won’t be happy anywhere else”. I wanted to leave Albuquerque so badly after the fire. But I think there were reasons I stayed as long as I did. I didn’t want to leave resenting my home. I needed to stay there, as painful as it was, to make peace with what happened. In April, I left Albuquerque fearing that I actually broke its heart, it never broke mine.

Oklahoma felt like a natural change, since I’d talked about doing it for so long. This move made sense; I finally figured out what I wanted to go back to school for, there was a great anthropology program at a state school with amazing funding, a room with a roommate, and it was within driving distance to home. I know a lot of people had a hard time seeing the logic in it, but I never did.

For about the first month, I was a little shocked by how I didn’t miss Albuquerque. Maybe I was just caught up in the glamour of being somewhere new and exciting, but I didn’t really feel any kind of true loss. It wasn’t real. But now that I’m settled in, the panic over money and more importantly, the panic over if I made the right decision is overwhelming. It feel like life’s on a giant pause button and I’m terrified to push play. I feel like 2009 will go down as The Lost Year. Being away from home and all the people I love, has opened up these pits of void I never knew I had.

It gets tempting to want to fill those voids with whatever you can. Everyone does it. Because if you successfully fill up that hole with something else, it’s like it was never there. But, I don’t want to replace anything, I don’t want to replace home. I’m trying as hard as I can to keep everything, even that feeling of loss, and gain new things, new perspectives, instead. If there’s one thing I’ve learned, you can’t replace what you’ve lost. I think I learned that long before I moved. There will never be another Golden West, I’ll never find another dog like Annie, I’ll never get in another visit to my grandfather in Little Ferry and I’ll never find a better way to spend a Sunday morning than with Kyle and a #6 from Twisters. Luckily, I can still get that last one.

Things here aren’t horrible. I’m not miserable being here. That’s not what this is about. There’s nothing wrong with being sad, there’s nothing wrong with missing home. Me and Oklahoma have been having some fun times, be it sometimes too much fun. I’ve met some quality folks here. And I’ve still got possibility. And that’s enough to keep me going for years.

When I first moved to Albuquerque, I don’t think Jimmy Eat World’s Bleed American left my CD player for a solid month. And every time I heard The Middle, I’d cry a bit. And that doesn’t embarrass me one bit. That album is absolutely incredible, no way to question it. The other night me and Chelsey went for a drive around Lake Hefner; ended up parking the truck on the west shore, watching city lights and drinking beers. While listening to that CD. And it turns out…

Even at 25,
You gotta start sometime.

I’m on my feet I’m on the floor I’m good to go.
Now all I need is just to hear a song I know.
I wanna always feel like part of this was mine.
I wanna fall in love (with Oklahoma City) tonight.

Don't let me down.

Cat fight outside my window.

This kid will either adore his parents or hate them later in life. I like to think he'll adore them.

You know, I feel like I've got a good group of friends, and a large one at that. I really enjoy spending time with them. But lately, I've started to have some major anxieties about public places. I haven't been to Walmart in months and I get super anxious when I can't find a parking spot or a table to sit at in a restaurant. I really don't know where all that's coming from.

Kyle and I spent Love Day inside, for the most part. We got Dion's for lunch, watched a movie, took a nap, got Coldstone, watched some British Office and he went home. This weekend, I launched a major assault on the cold that tried to develop in my throat, so I wasn't up for giant crowds (see above) or outdoor adventures. Most of my downtime is spent recovering from my insult of a work week. It's getting easier, though.

I'm sorry, how has Paul Blart: Mall Cop made over $100million? I had a problem putting that in italics.

Start all over again.

What a day. Pretty much all I want to do is collapse in a pile of misery.

There's just something about being in an office environment that makes me want to throw my head through a wall. I walked around my new job today and saw all the empty desks, waiting for me and the other temp's to fill them. It disgusted me. I could barely stand it, barely keep it together. I spent 8 months wearing dress pants and a fake smile. Fact is, I don't think I can fake it any more.

Maybe it was just the shock of being thrown into that world again, maybe it was the anxiety and the lack of sleep. But maybe, that's just not what I'm built to do. I don't feel like Cat, or even Catherine, when I'm in situations like that. I don't like the person I become in a professional office. God, I'd give absolutely anything to have my ice-cold perch in the Golden West back.

After almost a year of searching, I finally have an interview in Oklahoma on the 26th. It's a better office job. But even hearing the word "office" automatically makes me resent it. (But that, and the insecurities that come along with leaving New Mexico belong in a whole other blog.)

I know I need to give it time, it'll probably get easier. But, I really did promise myself that I wouldn't settle for a job any more. I want to wake up and be excited to go to work. It really does seem like a simple request, but so few people actually get that opportunity. I honestly don't know how one goes about that anymore.

You shoulda putta ring on it.

I'm lost in a world of resumes and job applications. As I told Angie a few days ago, I hate talking about myself. I actually hate myself by this point. I would never hire me. And while, yeah, I rarely get up before noon and I spend about 90% of my day indoors, I'm working probably harder than I have in months. It is emotionally retarding to fill out job application after application. "Please give an example of a challenging situation at work in which you were in a leadership role. Please list the process you used to handle the situation.... Step One: EAT A BAG OF..." Crap makes me miserable. Please, job, show your face.

To counteract my stress level, I've been diving into the creative. 'Member ye olde novel I mentioned a few months back? Still going, almost 300 pages strong. That word document, regardless of fluff-content and grammar errors, makes me glow with pride. Just knowing that I'm come that far is a pretty awesome thing.

I've also started breaking out the 16mm again. Taking a note from Brakhage, I've been playing around with the yards of leader I have. I've been cutting up 35mm single shot negatives and taping them onto clear leader. My mom found some MRIs of her brain from about 10 years ago that she gave to me, and I'll probably do the same thing to them. It probably won't amount to much (or look like anything, really) but it's nice to have that process back. And it sure does eat up some hours.

Chuck Norris doesn't grow up.

Ended up getting massively upset over working this weekend, after having to miss a haunted corn maize, the zoo, and a speech from the democratic nominee for President. Sad, SAD lady writing this blog.

Work on Friday was nice, I've coming to realize I enjoy a good bluegrass band every now and then. Spirit was ridiculous on Saturday, just wall-to-wall people. After five hours of retailing, I managed the El Rey for Django Fest, which actually proved to be problematic. European musicians don't understand the basic concept that actually they need to pay for alcohol and not steal inventory out of coolers. Also, the bar was upstairs. I probably staired it about 50 times. Cavs are still burning as I type. And finally, I couldn't get the day off from Spirit on Sunday. Despite my boyfriend's pleas that I just not go to work, I was there; groggy and disenchanted. As soon as I got off from there, I headed up to the East Mountains for Kyle's birthday celebration with his family. We had a camp fire outside, and while enchanting, it made for a late night and I am dearly paying for it this morning. But, you know, it's the least I can do; lose a little sleep over my boyfriend's birthday. (He got these for his birthday. I bought these.)

It's just been a while since I had some good old fashioned time off. It's really starting to wear on me. I'm sure most people I know will attest to the fact that I have not been pleasant these past few weeks. But, the end is near. I only have 3 more shifts at Spirit: today, tomorrow and Thursday. After that, only a week more of office work. It worked out that I'll be treating myself to a small scale vacation soon after, as the Anderbenmans and I are going to Tempe for B-Folds on Veteran's Day (no finer way than celebrating our soldiers than listening to "Army"). And after that... nothing. Absolutely nothing.

I can't decide whether or not I like the light at the end of the tunnel. It's there, I see it, but it's really scary; the thought of not having a job. Like I said, I'll still be getting paid until January and if I really must, I can file for unemployment. But I feel like there's too many question marks, too many what if's, and it makes me very anxious, especially given the status of the economy right now. I can't get a job. I've applied for probably 20 positions, most of which I'm qualified for, and I can't even get a call back. It's frustrating and it makes me feel helpless. I don't like being here, in limbo. I hate you, limbo.

Trying hard to be optimistic. I know this'll all work out and everything will fall into place soon. I'm exploring lots of options about possible certifications I could get, mostly in counseling/social work. But, being an adult doesn't feel all that rewarding right now.

Maybe Natalie Portman and Rashida Jones are right. Puppies.

Roadblock.

I guess it's a little ridiculous to say I have a hard time dealing with sadness. I think pretty much everyone does. My mom and me have had long conversations about how it's okay to feel sad, it's pretty damn normal. Having a bum month happens to everyone. Cowboy up, deal with it. But, I can honestly say it's been a very long time since I've felt this sad.

It's like big, giant parts of my life are collasping, voids are being created and I haven't quite figured out how to fill them (or if I should). I could laundry list them, but that's not important. Doesn't make them go away. It's to the point where it's effecting me physically, which is also something that hasn't happened in a long time. I feel myself drawing inward a lot. (If you've called and I haven't called back, I really am sorry.)

I'm trying to be a Chas about it. He's got this fantastic way of taking every experience in life as exactly that, an experience, and evaluating the losses and gains. Not to say he's withdrawn emotionally, because he's far from it. But he's got this almost editorial way of accessing the situation and in the end, he always seems to come out okay. I'm trying to make myself think about it in the most rational way possible, trying to study myself from the outside.

I guess it's a little bit fascinating, all the sensations going on in my head, the way they're translating to my body and to everyone else. Just trying to make sense of it all. And mostly, trying to not numb out. I can't imagine anything worse right now.

I'm hoping some open road and a little bit of distance will grant me another perspective.

(I'm pretty sure one of these would make me feel all better.)

The loves of others.

I've been laying low recently. I haven't been staying home, wearing my Golden West shirt with my keys on my jeans and crying in the dark or anything, but I've been taking comfort in the repetition of recent life. Work makes me get up and go to bed early, which normally makes me feel a lot better, but it limits my social calendar. I'm also working most Saturday nights and I'm going out of town this weekend. Phantom Cat.

Work also brings on a domesticated Cat. But with domestication comes certain funding. After a year of couch hopping, being able to go out to dinner or go see a movie and not worry (too much) where the money is coming from, is such a fantastic feeling. I'm sure I'll enjoy it for a few months then get stir-crazy. But, the nice part about extra cash is lots more weekend trips. Like this weekend.

My grandmother's moving to Pampa this week and I'm taking the last parts of her house, mostly plants, to her in Texas. I'll also drop off some things with my dad in Tucumcari before that, but eventually make my way to Oklahoma, as I always seem to do. This however, all depends on how tired I am this week. If I do go to Norman, I get to see Saves the Day for free on Saturday. This sounds fantastic.

Wash. Rinse. Repeat.

Strictly Rude.

Emotional irrationality continues.

I have a monthly parking pass for a downtown garage and the damn thing is so, so danty. I have to make sure to swipe it once, and only once when I try to exit the garage. If for some reason it doesn't read, the machine assumes I'm trying to steal parking and blocks my card. This happened to me today, for the second time in a week, and when I asked the parking garage attendant to open the gate (which I knew she could do. Another attendant did it for me earlier in the week) she interrupted my request and very rudely told me she couldn't open it and I would have to call a 1-800 number for help. Not to mention she was on the phone the whole time.

I. Went. Off. So much so I shocked the attendant so much, she froze. I thought she was going to call the police. I called the 1-800 number, got out, and cried the whole way home. Not normal, no sir. I think half the reason I was crying was because I was so mean, that whole feeling of completely losing sight of yourself, but mostly my brain just feels like a game of boogle. Sometimes, there's words, coherent thoughts, but most of the time it's just bits and pieces. And I'm tired of trying to make them fit. I've never been good at being graceful, but I feel like any little bit of grace I had is completely gone now.

I need more sleep and Brazilian meat. Too bad I'm broke like joke.

I look like trouble.

Inhale, exhale. I swear there's still smoke in my lungs. Life just feels like this giant haze.

I got a job offer that I can't blog about. Which means I'll probably hate it.

Fact is, I just can't handle any more change right now. I'm also supposed to be moving into Maria's this week. It's just a lot. The thought of removing the rest of my piercings (corporate proofing) makes me cry. It's always the little things.

I'm right in the thick of it now. Kathy can't stop moving, her brain's just gone.

I'd give just about anything to be back at my grandpa's right now.

I never eat December snowflakes.

Lose yourself, gangsta.

Tomorrow I head out for the north country. I'll spend tomorrow night in Niagara Falls, Ontario. Wednesday night, I'll arrive in Ste. Croix, Quebec, a town of only 2,300 people; half of which, I'm told I'm related to.

So, this is it. This was my whole reason for driving all this way. Finally, it's here. It seems like every time I get to a new place, I get settled in. It makes the next drive, the next leg, that much harder. I was nervous when I left New Mexico, just as nervous when I left Oklahoma. It's no different this time. I think partially I'm nervous about getting searched at the border, which I head is a given with New Mexico tags. I'm nervous about meeting my family. As dumb as it sounds, I wonder if they'll like me. And I'm nervous about the drive, especially since I'll be cell-phone less. (Which reminds me... Need me? Email please.)

So, there's lots of nerves in Southgate tonight.

Wish me luck! And hope I don't come back as Celine Dion.

Comfortable coffins.

Written sitting in bed at my mom’s house in Edgewood, New Mexico…

Breathe in, breathe out. I felt like that last couple days I’ve had to remind myself to do that; because of stress, because of sleep deviation, because of emotional overloads.

Fact is, Albuquerque has been a little like a tomb for me, and it took me til tonight to realize it. I felt like that city was holding me in, and I loved it. I could have died there and been happy. But, it was also holding in all this tension and all this stress. Watching it fade from my rearview mirror tonight broke my fucking heart. The only thing I wanted to do was exit off Tramway and turn right back around. Leaving was next to impossible.

Once I got through the mountains and into the valley where my mom lives, it was instant relief. I really can’t explain it, but it was the best I’ve felt all day. Just like, well, that’s over. Thank God. Just being 30 miles away (I can see the light pollution from my window) is liberating.

Today was hard. I’ve living off minimal sleep and minimal eating (why can you never eat after an all-nighter?) and the thought of leaving behind everything comfortable just reduced me to emotional retardedness. The crying started when I told Annie I’d be back, went straight through hugging Kenneth behind the theater, climaxed for watching my city disappear, and had a grand finale for Kyle, who I dropped off at his parents. Exhausting, I tell you. It’s hard, saying goodbye to so many amazing people with only the promise that, yeah, sure, I’ll be back. When? Not quite sure.



Speaking of my Wiggle Butt, Annie’s got a fantastic home with my grandmother (of all people!). I am stunned that she wanted Annie, but she seems excited about it. My grandmother has a soft spot for dogs, so I’m assuming they’ll be fantastic, if not grumpy, little old ladies together and spend most of their days sleeping. If only Annie could talk, they would stay up gossiping and painting toe nails all night.

Also, on the subject of goodbyes, I really need to apologize to all of those I didn’t get to see before I took off. I know, I know, I’m lame. But, true story, it is freaking amazing the amount of crap you can acquire after living in a house for 4 years. Ridiculous. All I’ve done for most of my week is move. And move some more. I seriously had NO time for anything me-related, my life was devoted to my house (with the exception being a day trip to Jemez on Tuesday, I needed to fish before I left. Ashley caught some drift wood. It was pretty amazing).

Not only that, but goodbyes are LAME. Just crying, sadness, and completely no need for it! I’ll be back, don’t you worry. Moving is like your birthday. People feel obligated to hang out with you, if only for that one occasion. I love all my homies, I don’t one last luncheon to prove it. J

So, tomorrow I’m off for that other home, the one of long ago, Raton. I don’t think I could have picked a better place for my first stop. It is so relaxing there, I believe there’s healing agents in the amazing water. In fact, I’ll probably be in Raton by the time this gets posted.



Lastly, thank you, Tim Armstrong. Your solo album could not have come at a better time. I’m sure it will prove to be one of those fantastic, emotionally significant pieces of art you can’t ever give up. You’re solo, I’m solo.

All I know.

Spend some time here. I know I will.

Official date of departure: This Sunday. OH MY GOD.

Current feelings: Well, okay. Really exhausted right now, moving is doom. But, once this wears off, I'm a mess of excitement and confusion.

What exactly am I doing: Taking a few months for me, really. I'll be driving around the country, visiting old friends, making new ones. A planned course route will be posted shortly. I plan on being gone til Labor Day.

More when my head isn't about to explode with exhaustion.