Speechlessness

I played an original song for my voice teacher during my Saturday lesson. It took me a while before I wanted to do it or even felt comfortable thinking about doing it, but I finally forced myself to go through with it. I was a little nervous and ended up skipping a verse, but by the end of the song I looked up from the keyboard and his eyes were watering. I thought it might have been allergies or something, but he looked at me and took note of his wet stare and said something like, "I love it when talent comes through [into his studio]."

Basically the song questions human nature, asking if there wasn't an idea of God, would people still be good. It also touches on betrayal by people and by God. He told me he liked the idea of the song, which made me feel good because the only person I'd played my song for was The Lion and he only heard the music and failed to listen to the lyrics because he never listens to them. I finally felt like someone understands me. I don't feel so apologetic for my song now. It feels liberating in a sense, having shared something I was scared shitless to share.

My battery is running out so I have to post this before it goes out completely. Nighty night.

Duality = Danger

I read through my paper journal this evening. "Duality = Danger" was in an entry from several years ago. Apparently the creepy stalker/sexual harasser man had sent my best friend a Friendster note all those years ago with "Duality = Danger" as the subject line. I'm pretty sure it was in reference to my being a Gemini. He knew there was gonna be trouble. Anyway, I just wanted to mention that because I think it's both stupid and hilarious that he would send my best friend a message with that subject and "Who is this J anyway?" as the message. What normal person contacts someone's friends online when they barely know the person they're asking about? Oy.

God damn.

Our house was robbed this afternoon. They took my PC laptop, guitar, and my digital camera(s). One roommate's laptop and her really expensive digital camera was gone and the other's got her cell phone stolen.

I'm so tired.

Cutting

Seeing as how Brians are no good and Ryans cause grief beyond belief, should I even bother with a Bryan? If it's a combination of the two names would that make it two times worse or would they cancel each other out? I'm only asking because I have a girlie pseudo crush on the lead singer from my new favorite band, whose name happens to be Bryan. He reached out and caressed my hair and face during his wild, antic-filled live show.

I'm just sayin'...

(And just kiddin'.)

(But he really did do that to me during the show.)

I can't take it anymore!

I FUCKING LOVE THIS WOMAN! I WAS THERE TO SEE THIS EXACT PERFORMANCE ON FRIDAY NIGHT. FUCKING PERFECT!

During "Marry Me," she looked directly at me (I was pretty close to the front) and she held eye contact. I just kept smiling and smiling and smiling.

Out of everything, especially it.

I just saw that my last post had been on February 16th and my immediate thought was, "Oh, I posted something tonight?" Seriously, I don't know what's going on anymore. I've been racing around this month picking up best friends from airports, dropping them off, picking them back up, going to SF every single night this week, having house guests for multiple days overlapping each other. Man. I haven't been this busy in my entire life (maybe).

Here's the scoop on my life: My BFFL and I are BFFLs again. She left for Korea on Thursday and we were OK. That same week I went to a music festival in SF from Wednesday till Saturday. I don't know how people can go out every night. I was going to sleep after 3 am and getting up at 8 or 9. I'm in the process of maybe getting sick or maybe not getting sick. I'm still not sure.

The best part about being busy is not having time to sit and think. It's dangerous for me to sit and think. If I were allowed to sit and think, I would probably be churning The Lion through my thoughts constantly and worrying and being sad and upset about all this stuff online I found out about him. Fuck it. I'll probably sometime this week get in touch with him so I can mail him his shit or something. I really don't want it in my room and I want my dvds back that he has. I don't know when he's coming back up here from LA or if he's ever coming. I don't believe anything he says anymore since pretty much all the words out of his mouth to me were lies.

Okay, maybe that's an exaggeration. It's more like they were wishes or desires (if we can even call them that). They were things not working out the way he'd hoped they would. They were words voided by circumstance, not by him intentionally lying. HA! See what I'm doing? He doesn't even need to make excuses--he's got me to do it for him. Jessica, when a man guy boy moves 400 miles away from you without telling you, he's just not that into you. When your friends start calling the movie He's Just Not That Into You "The Lion's Just Not That Into You," he's just not that into you. When you go online on the dating site you met him on and see that he's still logging on, not marked as "seeing someone," and has written forum posts about having gone on "a handful of dates" back in November, he's just not that into you. Sure, he's a social creature. Maybe they weren't dates. But fuck it just the same. I'm angry at men. Why are they such douchebags? I didn't do a god damn thing to them so why do they do this shit to me? I certainly don't need to waste any more tears on them than I have already. It's not like they'd do that for me. Fucking mother fuckers.

Simple joys

I've forgotten how much pleasure I get out of singing. These past few months I've been singing as a way to escape, but Saturday afternoon marked my journey into joy. I had my first voice lesson and it was inspiring. The teacher is a man in his late thirties who has a calm, cool seriousness, though not the kind of seriousness I fear. Every so often he flashes a smile that almost makes him look like he feels he's doing something he shouldn't be doing. It's okay to smile and laugh with me--it's what I love most. It's how I connect with people.

I brought in the song "Love Song" to sing since I can finally sing pop music in a voice lesson. I loved the way he looked at me excited after we did vocal exercises and said, "Let's get you on a song!" I can feel that he's genuinely passionate about what he's doing and that gets me excited and inspired. I was getting a good vibe from him so I paid him in advance for three more lessons.

Please stay amazing, voice lessons. I need you right now. Especially now.

Also, my car was broken into

One doesn't look at my car and think, "Now that's a mark of wealth right there." It's obviously older than I am with fading beige paint, and a style reminiscent of the 80s. I don't know what they were thinking when they smashed the back window and broke into my car. There was nothing to take--I've got a cassette player in there for Christ's sake! That should have tipped them off right there. I don't keep anything of value in my car and all that was visible was an old pair of shoes, an umbrella, some maps and a binder. My car is so old that the back window had been discontinued and I had to go to a junk yard to find a replacement. I would never wish this on someone else, but there are cars similar to mine on my street that appear slightly newer and with shinier paint. Why not those cars? Why mine? What did my car ever do to them? What did I ever do to them? I almost let myself cry over this, but there are worse things in the world. Did I tell you my grandfather is in the hospital? People never cease to amaze me.

"Your dream of growth can be a reality."

I had just gotten off the phone with a dear friend after having a very inspirational and motivating conversation. When I saw that quote in the subject line of an email I felt even more uplifted and almost opened it.

And then I realized I was in my spam folder.

Funny thing, perspective.

Looking for love in a parked car

Last night I had a dream where I opened the trunk of my car and stuck a check in a clutch wallet, which was supposed to be an ATM, and an unbelievable amount of money came out. I think I was trying to withdraw some money from my account and $100,000 bills started shooting out of it. (Never mind that US dollars don't come in bills worth that much...) I was really surprised that I suddenly had all this money, but I felt like I should do the right thing and return it. I went to the bank and was about to give the teller the money I had when an old friend from high school said hi to me and asked me what was up. I turned to her and flashed the cash, saying, "The ATM machine just gave me all this money! Can you believe it?! I'm here to return it." As soon as the old woman teller heard that, she got high-and-mighty with me, saying that it was wrong for me to flash the money that way and that she was going to have to write me up for it.

(Incidentally, I think the woman playing the role of the teller was the dumb little Mrs. Claus looking woman from the DMV who had given me my first behind-the-wheel driving test. She failed me because I had caused traffic to stop as I was leaving the parking lot. She had no sympathy for me or my incredible nervousness. Occasionally I think about her and what a little witch she was for making me drive even though she knew she was going to fail me. The thing that pissed me off the most was when she fucking grabbed the wheel as I pulled back into the parking lot because she thought I was going to run over the kids who were playing ball in the freaking driveway. I was in complete control and she had no faith in me.)

Okay, so this evil little bank teller woman started droning on about how it wasn't ladylike to do that with money, how it was impolite and uncultured to call attention to my money that way. I really didn't feel like it was a big deal since I'd only shown my friend. But either way, she was going to report me AND put a mark on my credit so that it would make it extra hard or impossible for me to ever get a loan in my life for a house or anything else. She was going to fuck me up just for that fanning of the money, completely ignoring my good intentions of returning it.

Something, I'm not sure what, just sparked my memory of this dream, which I think is pretty symbolic. I went onto a dream dictionary and here are the symbols I found. It's pretty interesting and relevant to my life right now:

To see a parked car in your dream, suggests that you need to turn your efforts and energies elsewhere. You may be needlessly spending your energy in a fruitless endeavor. Alternatively, a parked car my symbolize your need to stop and enjoy life.

I'm going to go with the first parked car symbol. Many a friend have been telling me that my relationship situation is like the parked car--going nowhere--and that I'm putting energy into something that will end up being fruitless.

Then we have finding all the money in the car and getting extra money:

To see or win money in your dream, symbolizes that success and prosperity is within your reach. Money may represent confidence, self-worth, success, or values. You have much belief in yourself. Alternatively, dreaming about money, refers to your attitudes about love and matters of the heart. It is frequently a symbol for sexuality and power. In particular, finding money indicates your quest for love or for power.

To dream that you lose money, signifies temporary unhappiness in the home and a few setbacks in your affairs. You may be feeling weak, vulnerable, and out of control in your waking life. Additionally, you may be lacking ambition, power and self-esteem.

To give or spend money in you dream, is analogous to giving love. You are looking for love.

In the dream I "won"/saw money, lost, and gave it away. I would say that finding money in a parked car would mean (using the symbolism from the dictionary) that I was putting too much effort into love. I'm not sure how the whole confidence thing plays in here. I wouldn't say I'm the most confident person, but the love thing rings true.

I lost the money to the evil bank lady, and I'd say that I feel vulnerable in my situation currently and that my self-esteem has been wavering because of it. However, I find that being in this situation makes me more ambitious because I get mad at the loverboy and want to become successful as a revenge tactic. Not sure if it actually works that way, but in my head it does. (It's the whole "Look what you could've had" thing.) I find it interesting that the bank teller was played by the DMV woman, someone who, in real life, had denied me permission to drive--she wanted to separate me from love.

Of course my giving the money back could very well be my giving of love. It is true that I'm looking for love. Just like any other person I want to love and be loved; I'd even go so far as to say it's the main thing I want right now. I want a boyfriend who is my best friend before he is my boyfriend, but things don't always work out that way. (Did I tell you he moved to LA?) I could've easily kept all the money for myself in the dream, but I wanted to give it back and then got fucked over for doing so. In the end I should've just kept it and bought myself a vacation to every country in the world so I could find myself the perfect dream man.