Delor.es.Defacto

she knew she had to change her plans

I will replace the noise with silence instead January 28, 2008

Filed under: Uncategorized — deloresdefacto @ 3:33 pm

Let me get back to the basics here and finally update.

I started a post last week, then the Heath Ledger thing happened and the next few days were just weird. I wasn’t in the mood to post and I wasn’t in the mood to try to find something interesting to write about. Hence, no post.

I was going to talk about how my Ex’s brother started hitting on me on AIM that same day and how I was appalled that someone could get that delusional that they would go as far as to even think of trying to get me to go out with them when I’d known them for 15 years and use to be in a relationship with his older brother, hence making my Ex’s little brother, my pseudo little brother at the time. Weird as hell and not that important in the long run but it was the only material in my life worth writing about. Then I lost interest and never finished the post about it. Oh well. The whole gist of the thing has now been explained and I can move on.

I have this week to finish my current grad class. That means two critiques and my final, rough draft to post by Friday and at some point I am to speak to my professor on the phone about my work. I have no idea what this conversation will entail or how I should think to prepare for it (As I told the girls, what am I going to do, explain to my professor that my story ideas are based on my obsession with men on television because I have no real one in my life right now? I don’t even want to go there.)

Then next week I start my first Thesis class, have no money to pay for it, haven’t applied for financial aid for this school year (even though my university said they can’t give me any more money anyway; for whatever reason) because I haven’t gotten my W-2 in the mail yet. It’s probably sitting at my old school and no one is going to bother to send it to me because they’re nice and courteous like that. Sigh…

So in all Bridget Jones fashion, I’ve made a list of what would be nice to have if I could have it:

  • Job: preferably something in the writing field, working for a magazine or newspaper, freelance is nice but I’d like to have somewhere to report to each day. A column would be nice, an office, a purpose, a decent salary, some travel, some social networking and something I could be proud of.
  • Friends: would be nice if I had something to do once in a while that didn’t make me sigh at the idea. The club makes me sigh. I’m just over it but it seems there’s nothing else to do and no where else to go.
  • Weight: 30 lbs. needs to go and soon. I’m looking like Tyra Banks these days, without the extra modelesque inches of height. Too bad my chubbiness does not make me look as cute as it does on Renée Zellweger whom I would not mind looking like for obvious reasons (life is so unfair.)
  • Relationship: preferably someone I could be best friends with to begin with as well as a girlfriend to. Not constantly together but that comfortable understanding that neither of us are going anywhere. I’ve never had that because no one has ever wanted me to factor me into their life in any real way.
  • Boredom: needs to not be as present, hopefully social life, job and boyfriend will remedy some of this epidemic.
  • Independence: must hold fast to as tightly as possible.
  • Money: not a lot needed, just some to pay for rent, bills, clear up credit (which is not fairing well with each monthly missed payment), food and tuition.
  • Writing: here’s the thing; I was writing in about six different things at a time, then I became zapped and lost all interest. Now I’m trying to get back into the desire to do it fervently but it’s either the blog isn’t interesting, or the story’s deadline isn’t until the end of the week, or the essay idea is dumb, or the journal isn’t fun at the moment. I know ADHD is one thing, but my handwriting analysis said I have the disposition to start a bunch of projects, get really into them, and then abandon them when they don’t seem as exciting as they did at first. I’m still saying it is a weird perfectionist thing. When it doesn’t turn out the way I envisioned it, then I fail to continue on a seemingly flawed path. But, whatever, it’s the thing I do and I do it. Hopefully the difference between how I see it and how I project it are good enough for whatever audience I may have.
  • Future: the white picket fence, the husband, the room of one’s own, the writing, the travel, the contentment; all will be mine some day, hopefully.
  • Self Esteem: see all of the above for points in this favor.

Oh yeah, and Lost starts up again on Thursday. Apparently they’re showing an enhanced version of the Through the Looking Glass episode on Wednesday night at 9PM. Cool.

Photo credit: LOC

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Will I take my rest, among the blessed January 22, 2008

Filed under: Uncategorized — deloresdefacto @ 10:13 pm



Heathcliff Andrew Ledger

(April 4, 1979 – January 22, 2008) was an Academy Award-nominated Australian actor. After appearing in television roles during the 1990s, Ledger developed a Hollywood career. He starred in both critical and financial successes, including The Patriot, Monster’s Ball and Brokeback Mountain, and completed the role of The Joker in the forthcoming The Dark Knight. Ledger was found dead in a New York City apartment in the SoHo neighborhood on January 22, 2008.

I can’t even stomach the word “was” to describe him. Things will defiantly not be the same now. So sad.

We love you, Heath. You will truly be missed.

Heath Ledger found dead in NYC at age 28

Actor Heath Ledger found dead in NY building

Heath Ledger @ IMDB

Heath Ledger @ Wikipedia

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We have our looks and perfume on January 14, 2008

Filed under: Uncategorized — deloresdefacto @ 7:27 pm

I saw Atonement last night. It finally came to a theater nearby after we’d been waiting on it forever. I was okay with it because I looked up the plot on Wikipedia so I knew what was going to happen. But still, I can’t say enough good things about it. It just makes me want to write a good novel even more and the way the story was put into a movie was so artistic and lovely. As I said in my email today:

Here’s how much I thought of it; I barely said anything through the whole thing because I was trying to concentrate. Ha ha. I kept thinking about it all last night though. It wasn’t as depressing as “Titanic” but I think that’s just because I looked up the story and we knew what was going to happen. And Fran didn’t like the typewriter/piano music but I loved that. Did you notice how there were parts that were really quiet and then parts with the music? The quiet scenes (like the sex one; all you hear is them breathing and the clock ticking in the background) made me anxious. Without the language and the gore, it totally reminded me of an old movie. The thing was just perfect. So freaking good.

The one part we didn’t get (because they didn’t explain it well and/or we couldn’t understand what they were saying) was about Keira and James being at school together and something happened and how he was going to go to medical school. So did something happen when they were away at school or it was just weird that they had been apart for years and saw each other again? That was the only thing we didn’t get all together. That and the fact that honestly, no matter what that little girl did, they probably would have drafted him into the Army anyway.

Yeah the arty stuff totally got me. I love when they take a good book and make a good movie from it. Those are always the best ones. All it says in Wikipedia about them at college was: Briony’s sister, 23-year old Cecilia Tallis, has returned home from university and is confronting her confused feelings towards Robbie Turner, son of the housekeeper, whose studies were financed by Jack Tallis and who, like Cecilia, studied literature at Cambridge University. I liked the whole class system theme in there too. And they didn’t have to explain it too much, you just figured it out (again, good story telling.) Just like him going to war and the chocolate factory guy did because in their difference of class. If he would have married Cecilia he probably wouldn’t have had to go because he was in a wealthy family. Plus that and the fact that they would believe that he’s a bad guy, despite how well they knew him, because he was a servant.

And I just love that that little girl, Briony, even at the end, is still selfish and totally in her own head about all of it. Like she says, “I feel like I kept them from happiness.” Oh and what I thought they could have added in there, and maybe it isn’t even in the book, is how she really made the novel end. Like was it suppose to be that she went to see her sister at the apartment and he never had to go to war because she told her parents the truth, or did he come back from the war and they were together? As far as Wikipedia says, it’s vague in the book just like the movie was. I totally want to read the book now even though I heard it was boring.

Aside from that I wanted to talk about hotness versus compatibility. I am no Keira Knightly, it’s true. I’m all personality. Hence, I look for the same in relationship. I’m not blind or anything; I know which guys are hot, but how someone looks doesn’t factor in my perception of them after a couple of weeks. My ex is a good looking guy; women (and men for that matter) love him. I could have cared less when I first met him even though all the girls around me were falling at his feet. I guess that’s why he chose me to begin with honestly. Then my guys friends whom he started hanging out with once I met him, figured out that his sarcastic humor and musical talent equalled a cockiness that was irritating as hell after a while. When I see him now I think of him as my brother rather than an ex lover just because I know what he’s like. Tons of pretty girls didn’t understand why he chose me but, then again, they didn’t have to go through hell with him either.

My mantra has been ever since that I have to know them for a while before I decide if I’d want to date them. I think about how someone looks at first meeting in a whole, encompassing persona rather than “wow, he’s hot.” (Not that I haven’t thought that before though, I must reiterate this point.) Once I know them, I see them as beautiful or plain. Nine times out of ten, the really good looking guys are so cocky about it that I could care less if they have good bone structure and modelesque features. An ass is an ass, no matter how pretty the package.

And, again, I think I’m the only one who thinks about it this way. Granted, I pick the wrong one every time (a pattern which I have fervently resigned from all together in the past year) but it’s the essentials of how they treat me that ends up being what matters. Having a beautiful man call you up for a date is great and all but once they treat you badly, who cares how dreamy they are? Maybe it’s just that good looking guys think non-beautiful women should worship them because they could get some glamor gal to hang on their arm for a while as a trophy. But my mother was the pretty girl in our little, country town and she said all the good looks from all the guys who chased her didn’t mean a thing in the long run. My Dad was quiet and gentle and level headed; that was what really mattered.

So as I go through life, gabbing about men with my friends, I just feel different because “the initial attraction” doesn’t register with me. Some people may say that I’m bitter and just afraid of relationships all together because I’ve been treated badly in the past (which is and isn’t true; I’m afraid of the same kind of relationship I’ve had in the past.) But I have fallen for a ton of my male friends for as long as I can remember. I am friends with them for the reason of common interests, taste and connection. Whether or not I feel attracted to them comes later when I realize that I have a desire to be affectionate with them or not. I see men who are cute but just by my own personality and upbringing, I would never sleep with them without knowing them anyway, so the whole idea is sort of eliminated in my mind. I’m may be attracted to them but I need the essential compatibility and trust to even consider having a relationship with them. So, again, I love cute guys, but they aren’t really hot until I know who they really are.

Unfortunately this is an even more rare case for men. But if you haven’t noticed, hot guys are are usually with average looking girls. And it’s always the average looking girls who complain about this when they should be happy that they don’t have to look like a Chanel ad to get a cute guy. Maybe I really am onto something with how I see men of all ranges of hotness. Keira Knightly may get to kiss them for money, but the real girls are the ones they come home to.

P.S. I added a blog account on SkyRock

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I lost myself because I am just a cloud January 12, 2008

Filed under: Uncategorized — deloresdefacto @ 4:24 pm

Today Vox asks: “What are you most grateful for in your life right now?”
I have a few basic things that I can answer with such as: my parents, my friends, my apartment, my food, my computer, my classes (they keep me in check), my story ideas, my health and my hope.
Hope that the negatives won’t stay for much longer such as: no job, no money, no debt, no boyfriend, no material worth substance to actually try and publish, no real drive from day to day, no real life that excites me and keeps me confident.

So my title and the picture: How do we get so lost in our own misdirection?
I’ve thought about for the past week or so about how I am stuck in self criticism. I guess that’s why I work in writing and instruction, because it’s so detail oriented. I lose myself in details constantly but to a point that it’s hindering. And I don’t think this is just something that I do naturally, usually I have a constant thought of self reprimanded of every single thing I do or think or feel or write, etc.
And I’ve decided that a.) I’m just too sensitive to opinions of others b.) I need someone else to approve of me so I feel some kind of self justification and c.) People are just freaking mean to me.

Now I know that sounds whiny and dramatic but I get this kind of thing all the time. If I don’t have a job, I’m criticized for not trying hard enough or something being wrong with me for no one hiring me and how I have to work harder to find something and I’m fooling myself in thinking it’s just going to work out and I’m going to have to take a crappy job at a grocery store because that’s all I can get because things just suck for me and I have to deal with it. But if I apply for jobs that I see online, I get some kind of freaking comment like, “You don’t want a job like that. You can’t work on Saturdays. Why would you drive all the way to Maitland for a job? Why would you want to work there?” and so on.

When I do work, or do apply, I get some kind of comment about how I just don’t measure up to a standard and I have to be “trained” or tossed out. I’m sure it’s been ingrained in me since birth that I am an unlucky person who just serves the purpose to be used as a whipping board. I’m sure that’s why I cut my circle of friends down to a handful. I just am not received well and it’s frustrating. I’m a target and the most manipulative, condescending people see me as the perfect person to lay judgement on. I try to fight back but I end up just having to walk away because I can’t prove myself to anyone. No matter what I feel is right for me, the minute I walk out the door, someone, somewhere is going to say that I’m dumb for doing it.

I just applied for a job at a little paper and they told me I didn’t have a good enough camera and my photos weren’t anything more than of “coffee table quality.” See, why ya gotta say it like that?

Not to be hypocritical about it; I realize that I give people my two cents. But I usually try to be positive about it and not just say something mean to them because I think they need to know “the truth.” And maybe this just makes me different from everyone else. Or maybe I’m not the only one. Does anyone else out there feel like they’re constantly running the risk of having some half assed comment thrown their way? I can see if you’re harming yourself but I’m not doing anything that is detrimental to me or anyone else; bottom line.

And I’m talking about someone commenting about everything about me. It’s been like this since as long as I can remember. My hair, my clothes, my perfume, my shoes, my tastes in music and books and movies and what guys I think are cute. Someone always has to say something about anything I tell them about. And maybe it’s just because I am an only child and I don’t have that sense of an ally somewhere in the world. Granted siblings can drive you nuts, so I’ve seen and heard, so can boyfriend and husbands. But why do people tell me, or anyone else, their conflicting thoughts on my life?

Anyway, I’ve long known that I become an easy target for people like this anyway because I apparently invite spirit breakings because I just don’t treat people the same way. Am I the only one who gets this kind of thing?

Photo credit: silent_notice

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I always fall in these fights, I know why January 6, 2008

Filed under: Uncategorized — deloresdefacto @ 7:16 pm

I started cleaning up the kitchen today and as I was clearing off the counters and putting the dishes into the dishwasher, I picked up a couple of pink postcards. They were tokens that I kept for a year that stated “You have passed this test.” They were my receipts of accomplishment for finally getting through the education tests; the math one took three or four tries before I got it done. I remember how hard this was to focus on and get done. I had this weird work thing going on, the fear of failure and the stupid boy who I wanted to be a rock to hold me above water instead of a rock that was tied to me, holding me underwater. I drove to Lake Mary every few months, taking these tests, praying that somehow I had the ability to get them done. I would psyche myself out the day before and either not get enough sleep, get to the test late or feel terribly blase about the whole thing because, as my procrastinator’s character tells me, I wouldn’t pass them anyway. I thought I was always defeated before I even got to the testing site. I did this over and over again like a crazy person. The English test, obviously, was done with full flair and passed on the first try, the General Education was something I worried about, bought test prep books on and was surprised to find it relatively common sense questions. The math; the math was something I knew I couldn’t get done. But it had to be. My father couldn’t understand why I couldn’t get it done (because I don’t think like he does) and my mother just gave me the typical “you’re going to have to keep trying” bit. I hated it. I couldn’t do it. It was a waste of my time and energy. But the last time I took it, it was the same test I had taken the second to the last time and knowing that whatever my answers had been in the past were wrong, I had to focus on what I was doing. And for whatever reason, be it sufficient sleep, breakfast, enlightenment, courage, confidence or something else, I went through the test, amazed at how easy it was and confused as to how I didn’t get these questions right on the first try. They were simple. A few weeks later, I got the results back that I had passed. I knew when I left the test that I had passed. I had accomplished the unaccomplish-able on my own accord.

Today I threw those little “You have passed this test” postcards away.

On one hand they represent a past that doesn’t matter anymore. I ran my race and it didn’t kill me before I finished last rendering me unable to compete again. It represents my failure even after all I worked for and tried to make right. But it also represents my accomplishment, whether or not it mattered to anyone else other than myself in the long run.

All of the old paper work I took from my education classes and training and observations have since been used as play things for the cat. Those things go along with the postcards; I don’t need them anymore. They’re useless. It’s funny how at the moment they were so important and I was told to believe that they were important. If I didn’t succeed in the unfair game of education where the rules were set up to destroy me by the powers that be, out of my control or naive comprehension, I would be nothing. Worthless. But as I say over and over again, my gut and my instincts know more than anything around me. I knew that I was selling myself out and could never fit into the mold of a public school teacher. I’m too angsty, too sarcastic, too head strong. I never liked being told what I could or could not do, yet, I walk into that kind of prison all the time. Not just with work but with relationships or anything. I end up victimized because I get those independent urges squashed by anyone who has a hammer, waiting for me to walk by as their next target.

So my purpose of this post was to flesh out some ideas on to have and have not. I’ve realized that I am not unique and most people go through the same kind of rigmarole that I do when it comes to trying to figure out what the hell we’re all doing here. We can’t find comfort unless we’re alone and when we’re alone we need stimulation. We can be artistic but after a while of focusing on the artistic, we want to live in the daily routine as our fellow man and when we can’t find a suitable fellow man to accept us into a work, home, relationship, life routine, we retreat back to our comfort and express ourselves through some kind of art. And the worst part about trying to express ourselves artistically is that the rejection we face in the daily world of everyone else who wants the same thing, we get stifled and insecure. We’re not free because we’re taught to be unsure of ourselves. We can work hard for anything in the world but that doesn’t mean that we can succeed at everything.

And that’s not necessarily a bad thing. We train people how to treat us but it’s our own training from everything we’ve experienced that creates the willingness to get beat down and defeated. Why bother trying anything if we know we may not succeed? I went through hell and I’m not sorry that it’s over but at least I know now what this job that I had projected upon myself since I was a little girl was really going to be like. Oh well. It sucks, yes, but it didn’t kill me. (Put me in the hospital. Put me in therapy. Put me in complete disbelief in myself. But it didn’t kill me.)

So I guess the moral of my blog post is that life isn’t as simple as the fortune cookies tell us. We can’t just dismiss the past and life isn’t just made up of choices. There are things that we can’t control and we have the wisdom to accept that. I’m insecure as hell about everything in my life and in myself but I keep doing what makes me content. I keep the acknowledgment that I will succeed at the things I know in my gut will come to fruition one day. It’s just the journey that is so ambiguous. Sometimes it sucks and makes you want to jump off a bridge and other times it’s so satisfying that you have to stop and take a picture to commemorate the details.

Title credit: Interpol “Who Do You Think?”
Photo credit: seeWA

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