Random Channel Surfing

And it wasn't awful because it was nightmarish and terrifying. And it wasn't awful because I woke with a start after dreaming that I fell off a cliff or off my surfboard. It was awful because I keep remembering certain details of the dream; details that remind me that I'm still as insecure and terrified as I was four years ago ; details that remind me that I'm not as over someone as I thought I was (like I need the reminder... I really, really don't). I'm still infatuated and I don't know what to do. My dreams never used to relate to me, personally. I'd dream every night and wake up with the memory of other people living their lives--other people; people I'd never  even met. But when I became infatuated with this last man, my dreams were equally infatuated with him. I couldn't escape him and I didn't mind that. Until now, that is. I'm just so tired of fixating on people and never having these dreams materialize in real life. I'm...

I will actually achieve my dream of going to Brazil. That is if the world doesn't end this year. ;)

.. -- .--. . .-. ..-. . -.-. - .. --- -. / .. ... / .--. . .-. ..-. . -.-. - .. --- -. .-.-.-

While going through my email, I saw a slew of emails from my former program advisor at school. She'd forwarded us some information on a contest for a novella. Now, I've said this millions of times before, but I'm a coward. Yellow livered. Rubber spined. Squeamish. The fear of rejection for something as sacred as my writing is terrifying. And I know. Okay? I know. Every single one of my professors warned us that we'd face rejection more times than we can count. They guaranteed it. And it's that certainty that cripples me. Why would I, a girl who for all intents and purposes avoids the very idea of confrontation, submit myself to rejection? It goes against my very character. But the braver, determined side of me is pissed off at my unwillingness. It's losing patience and has started pacing and glaring in my direction. I get it, Self. I get it. I should fucking woman up (HA!) and face my fears. Just because failure is certain, doesn't mean I should let fear di...

Usually, I dream of people I've seen once in my life. It's random stories not really belonging to me, and only sometimes, do I make a cameo appearance in my own dreams. It's always been this way. Once, I even watched Disney's The Jungle Book in its entirety as I slept. My dreams are just... random. There was a time in my youth when I was boy crazy; every boy, man, dude that crossed my path was carefully regarded and studied. I just really liked looking at them. As creepy as that sounds. So it follows that I would crush on several men in my lifetime. Feel the rush of seeing them, replaying our encounters like a never-ending loop. But I have fallen in love twice. A product, I'm sure, of my propensity for "boy craziness", combined with my annoying ability to form sentimental attachments to anyone who's open and earnest. And of those countless crushes and two men whom I've loved, I've only dreamed of one; but the sad thing is, my dreams unsettle me...

Feeling insecure about my appearance and things like that is totally okay. Well, it's not okay. I mean, I don't relish feeling insecure, but it's a fact of life. We're not going to love the way we look 24/7, nor are we going to be happy with what we're given. Would I like smaller boobs? Hell yes. Would I rather be 5'5" than 5'? Definitely. But can I change those things? Nope. (Unless I got a breast reduction and/or wore heels every day. No, thanks.) And to be honest, I don't really want to. I am what I am. And, in the event that I meet an incredible man someday who'll love my huge boobs and tiny stature, I know acceptance starts with me (cheesy, yes, but very true). But when I start doubting my dreams? I don't think my heart can cope. Again, I'm scared. Scared I won't fulfill those dreams, scared that I'll miss my chance, scared I'll never do what I want to do. Just scared. And I know that it's irrational. I mean, it...

So 2011 is upon us and it's weird... I feel as though this year will be my LAST year to get all my loose ends tied and finally make my dreams come true. Guess the reason for this is quite obvious: my plans for moving to Montreal in 2012... NEXT FUCKING YEAR! Like... REALLY. Mont-fucking-réal! I can hardly wait...! I love that city more than is natural. And to live there? After years of wanting this more than any other dream... It's unreal. So this year, I'll be buckling down. Crossing those Ts and dotting those Is... Ensuring that nothing will detain me from reaching my dream. I can't wait!

I'm currently "working on" a script. I've written a script in the past, but this one is... difficult. I don't know why, but my thoughts aren't coming out the way I want them to and my characters are boring me. I may have to scrap the whole thing altogether. Lame? Yes. Very. Ah, well. These things happen. Especially when you're not very motivated. hehe.

And I'm still not all that "wise." So what have I learned this past year in respect to the past, present, future, death, growth, my dreams and life in general? I've learned that I am even MORE romantic than I'd originally thought; that I dream big, but have my feet firmly on the ground; and that I spend more time reveling in the future and analyzing the past to really enjoy the present. My to-do list for the next year is to focus on the here and now. Enjoy being stuck in Deadmonton and keep my sights on Montreal. Sure, it won't be a while until I can move East, but I know I'll get there. As Paulo Coelho says in The Alchemist , "When you want something, all the universe conspires in helping you to achieve it." It's only a matter of being patient.

I have a confession. I used to sing. Like, a lot. I wasn't bad at it, but it seemed so unrealistic to me that someone could attain this dream. This secret speaks to me.

I just read a blog post from my friend Erin  and I know exactly how she feels in regards to the lethargy and blah-ness (and the pampering, too!). It's so strange knowing that I'm going to be leaving Montreal (AGAIN!) in 16 days. This thought alone makes me feel lethargic.  Anyway, Susanna, Daniele and I are the only interns at Lobster at the moment (Erin went back home and Eric is out galavanting in Europe!) so we've had time with our thoughts... Yeah, it's not going so well. This past Wednesday (December 3) is being touted as the publishing industry's "Black Wednesday" because of all the layoffs, pay-cuts and overall dream squashing that's happening in this once "indestructible" industry. Anyway, I've been feeling so shitty and confused. I need to feel motivated in order to start looking for a job... how lame is that?