making up for lost time
March 11, 2010
8/26/08: It’s still prior to noon and I’ve chugged three Diet Cokes with the fervor of a deprived addict. This could be why my fingers are shaking and my mind is so hyperactive. I’ve not been feeling well. My forehead hurts to the touch from pressing my fists into it two days ago while I screamed muffled noises into a towel and made a sprawl of myself on the floor wearing hardly any clothes. It’s taking a white knuckled grip to keep it together at work. I was an hour late.
I DO NOT LIVE LIKE THIS ANYMORE.
I am seeing more and more of who I was by reviewing writing from the past few years.
I am so happy to be where I am.
-CJ
do it, do it!
March 9, 2010
When something difficult or painful happens always look to see what it makes possible that wouldn’t have otherwise been possible.
Like a new adventure, a closer friendship, or chocolate in your peanut butter.
(via the universe.)
-CJ
truth be told
March 5, 2010
I won’t tell you that I love you.
I struggle to voice the overwhelming emotions that I feel. Sometimes I desperately want to say it, scream it, or tackle someone with a bear hug of appreciation but there’s some invisible barrier that paralyzes me and keeps me from acting or reacting. Sometimes a simple, loving text message from a friend or relative comes through and I beam and melt and tear up… and then close my phone. Sometimes it’s verbal and with every fiber inside of me working to tell me to react otherwise, all I can do is smile dumbly.
I’m trying to figure out if this is part of the insecurity I feel with showing vulnerability or I’m just emotionally stunted.
This is only to say that if you’ve heard the heartfelt from me, I hope it was taken seriously because it took more than liquid courage or the biggest personal pep rally to get it out. It takes a wrench and a handful of power tools and a lot of elbow grease to get those words out.
And if you find yourself disappointed in the response from someone on the receiving end of your mush…
maybe they do too… but they can’t.
-CJ
I shattered my alarm clock
March 5, 2010
I dreamt I had seats right behind home plate at a Dodger game…
sitting between Jack Nicholson and Brad Pitt.
The alarm went off at 5:55 a.m. and all I could do was scream, “ARE YOU KIDDING ME, CLOCK?!”
-CJ
only me… & possibly my brother
March 3, 2010
I don’t need to explain my level of geekdom to you if you’ve known me longer than two posts. It should not surprise you that I subscribe to the Dictionary.com Word of the Day. In today’s e-mail:
Word of the Day for Wednesday, March 3, 2010
eructation \ih-ruhk-TAY-shuhn\, noun:The act of belching; a belch.
Giving it such a fancy name means it’s hardly a thing to be disgusted by. Tonight while I’m having dinner with my family for my parents’ 26 year anniversary (!!) I will demand of my father, “What do you think of that eructation?”
And he will be so proud.
-CJ
I got spoilt
February 22, 2010
While I de-fog my head from twenty-fifth birthday weekend shenanigans and attempt a decent, comprehensive update, I’d like to introduce you to my new friend:
This is Beatrix VonStargaze, a gift from my friend Becky, and she is thrilled to meet you. While I collect myself, she is being all fragrant and perfect to my right and it is making for a great Monday morning.
-CJ
Sunday shenans
February 10, 2010
Apparently, the Saints won.
I was busy working these:

I’m not at liberty to discuss what happened after the bottles were empty but the cops were totally pissed and I woke up with this:

-CJ
mah blood-sperience
February 5, 2010
I like to think that Kiddo is so independent that she even chose when she would be born, despite my and any medical professional’s advice to bake in my oven for another month, at the least. Her early delivery resulted in significant blood loss for me. I’m all, here’s a warm home for you to chill in for a while, get comf, and she was all, DIE, MOM. Thanks, kid.
Since then I’ve always said I would donate blood. It’s the people that donate that were there for me when I was the almost-recipient of a large quantity of not-my-blood. (Luckily I did not need the transfusion and I just remained white(r) for several days.) Knowing it was there and it would have helped possibly save my life (I was very near death, apparently, but no one would tell me that because I’d already performed a Stage 5 FREAK OUT) inspired me to give, give give.
Then seven years happened when I wasn’t looking.
So I stopped making excuses and boarded this rumbling Red Cross bus up the street from work. In a room the size of an airplane bathroom, I answered personal questions such as whether or not I’d accepted money for sex between now and 1977. There was another grown woman in the room with me. There was no room for oxygen in there, let alone my sexual history. Which does not include money for sex in the seventies, as I was not here yet.
I’m not afraid of needles but I am afraid of anything medically related that I do not understand. (All of it.) When it took four nurses poking my right arm and then my left for a vein ’suitable for this type of needle’ I almost checked out. (Apparently you’re supposed to eat and drink first. I did neither.) They were afraid of breaking the vein, I think they said, in which case I would have completely flipped the fuck out because, um, THEY BREAK? And how does one fix that? I don’t even want to know, don’t tell me.
So I chanted please don’t let me die on my lunch break a few hundred times while squeezing a stress ball, strapped to a blood pressure cuff, and consequently losing all feeling on one side and going numb from the freezing cold air they were blasting on me unnecessarily.
After a few minutes into the Draining of Jill, I decided I would definitely do that again. Up until that point though, I had nearly sworn off the big blood bus. The crush I developed on the nurse that was a ringer for Da Brat could have helped a little tiny bit.
So, mostly, suck. But overall, feel goody. “You’re paying it forward! With plasma!” -Jamie

“Your boob totally made a difference.” -Ashley
If anyone would like to come hold my hand on April 1st, that’d be lovely.
-CJ

