Musing Moments 0003: The Versatile Blogger Award

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versatile-blogger-award

I cannot thank Mindy enough for nominating me for this award. I am humbled that people read my thoughts to begin with, let alone think they are interesting enough to share with others.

So firstly, thank you Mindy! You’re fantastic.

To receive this award I must follow a few rules:

Show the award on your blog.
Thank the person who nominated you.
Share seven facts about myself.
Nominate 15 blogs.
Link to your nominee’s blogs.


About the Dragon

Seven facts about me… Hmmm… Let’s see.

Music is a huge part of my life. I started by playing the piano, then became a percussionist during middle school. I participated in marching band all four years of high school as well as concert band, percussion ensemble, jazz band, and even clarinet choir my senior year.

I am a fairly whole brained person. I enjoy both artistic and logic activities such as reading, writing, drawing, puzzles, computer programing, and organizing things like the coat hanger displays at Target (no joke I actually did that with my friend one time when we were out shopping. It was a blast.)

Instead of being obsessed with purses or shoes I have a thing for pillows.

I actually don’t own a purse.

I don’t like living in the same location for very long because my dad was in the military while I was growing up. We moved around fairly often and so I tend to get tired of being in the same place after a while. Every so often I‘ll have to rearrange my room just so it feels different.

Five months ago I shaved my head completely bald like a military recruit as a symbolic act of returning to my roots.

I scored the highest in my school on the ASVAB. The marines would not leave me alone and I stopped answering the phone for roughly three months. I still might go into the military.

If you want to know more random stuff about me you can check out the facts I listed for the Liebster Award as well. Which, thank you once again Ally for that nomination. You’re amazing! : D


Fantastic Blogs to Check Out

I’m still a newb / slacker, so I don’t have 15 blogs to nominate, but check out these guys. They’re pretty amazing people. : D

Candy Volcano
Seven Years in a Drawer
Welcome to My Little Piece of Quiet
Semper Fidelis
Kattie Kate
Bluechickenninja
Simply Puzzle Pieces
Basically Beyond Basic
Luna’s Universe
Ramblings of a Confused INFJ
Green Bean Life

Daily Post 0035: The Start of a Relaxing Saturday

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My body is so sore. I love it.

I didn’t get to do yoga last night. /sad face

There is a sensei from out of town, so there was a seminar instead. As a new student I wasn’t allow to participate, but I could watch. It was amazing. It was like they were dancing.

You can tell that there is an exchange in the movements. One person is the ‘attacker’, and there comes a point in the moves where the energy of the attacker is transferred back to them, a tipping point, where they no longer are the ones leading.

It is very graceful to watch, and I think that exchange, that grace is what I feel when I get a move right. I can feel the transition, the tipping. You move with it, and you become part of the grace. Part of the dance, the flow.

There was pizza afterwards, but I only new three of the people there, and I’m still really new to the dojo, so while I am starting to feel more comfortable, I didn’t stay. I still had lab that I had to go to later that evening, and I had been fighting off a headache most of the day do to not drinking enough water.

So instead of socializing more, I came home and recovered for a bit.

I’m pretty proud of myself. I’ve been super active, and I’ve begun a new and very real experience. I felt like I could cut myself some slack for not sticking around for pizza.

Lab went well. Frank and I talked about the classes I took. He may start up again with Natalie and his kids. That would be fun I think. Having a few people that I know outside of the dojo being there with me every once in a while might make it feel more ‘mine’.

I’m not sure how to really explain it.

I’m the newest student, so regardless of how open and accepting the other members are, I am still on the outside at the moment. I’m not as familiar with the etiquette, I’m still meeting new people, I’m still trying to find my ‘place’. How I fit into the social aspect of the dojo.

That takes time. And I understand that.

But if there were people that I already knew, I would know my standing with them. It would be a corner stone, and point of reference that I can be familiar with.

I may not know everything, but I know this one particular thing, so I can figure everything else out based on this point.

Again, I’m not sure if it really makes sense. But in my head it does. There is comfort in the familiar, and as an introvert that means a lot to me. It makes me feel more secure.

I got a fair amount of stitching done. Roughly at the halfway point for the Dragon of Compassion. It’s a red dragon so I’m loving the colors. They stand out nicely against the blue of the Earth.

Today I have work at 5pm.

I’m thinking that I’m not going to do much activity. Maybe yoga to stretch. I can feel my shoulders. Which sounds odd. Of course I can feel my shoulders, there’s a nervous system in my skin after all.

What I mean is just by sitting still I can feel my muscles. There is a subtle ache that makes me conscious of them. How the muscle tense and release slightly with each small movement, and flex harder with larger movements. How they ache at a certain point of extension. How they are tired and want to rest, be still.

I know stretching would help loosen them, cause them to ache less. It would be the kind thing to do for my body.

Maybe even sitting in the sauna for a little bit. Warming my body and allowing it to relax.

Nothing very physical will be happening today, that’s for sure. No running, no weights.

And I don’t even feel bad about that. I feel good for everything that I have been able to do this week, and this past month. I’ve done extremely well and I’m proud of that.

I’m going to take my rest day and enjoy it to the fullest.

I have already had my coffee and vitamin. I’m about to go make breakfast and then relax and enjoy existing.

Prompt Page 0020: Playlist of the Week

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Tell us how your week went by putting together a playlist of  five songs that represent it.

Fascinating. I like this prompt since most of the time I think in music. This the the over arching playlist for this past week.

Monday : Between Us and Them by Ulrich Schnauss
Tuesday : Dictaphone’s Lament by Tycho
Wednesday : Medusa by GEMS
Thursday : Easy by John Newman
Friday : Life – Remastered by Solar Fields

Daily Post 0034: Aikido : D

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So it feels like it’s been a while since I wrote. A few days-ish. Really in the scheme of things it’s not that long. But I feel like a lot has happened.

I do not think Jarrett and his new roommate have finished signing the paper. Kari hasn’t emailed or called me. They have until Sunday, but I hate this waiting game.

I have done my part. I want for it to be over, rather than having to wait, wonder, worry. It sucks, and I can’t fully purge the feelings until it is done with.

So there is still a bit of discord, but not as much as what I felt the other day.

That night I went to the SAL lab. I stitched for most of it, being pretty quiet and introverted. Introspective.

I honestly didn’t want to be there. But it was an easy lab. If the students finished their assignment they were allowed to leave early.

Some how Frank and I got on the topic of martial arts towards the end of lab. He told me about aikido. How it is a defensive type of martial arts. It’s not about strength, but about using your opponent’s energy against them.

One of the quotes I read about it said that, “Hurting your opponent is hurting yourself.”

I like that.

I liked everything that I read about it. A lot of the guiding principles line up with things that I believe.

Frank told me of a dojo that he and Natalie had attended for a little bit, before Frank had surgery last year.

Well, I went home after the SAL lab and poked around online, getting more information about aikido and the dojo Frank had mentioned.

There was a class at 7 in the morning, so I woke up and went there at 7:40.

I got to watch the last part of the class and talk to one of the instructors for a bit.

There was another class at 7pm I could attend if I wanted. The first class was free to let me see if it was something I would like.

I left, thinking over all of the information.

It wasn’t until I got back to the apartment that I realized that I had left my wallet at the dojo.

That settled it for me. I was supposed to go back.

It felt right.

I’ve been wanting to do something combat related.

I’m a warrior. I feel like I’m supposed to know how to fight. To defend.

But I don’t like the idea of roundhouse kicking my opponent in the face. I don’t like the idea of being aggressive. I don’t like the idea that most fighting styles are about inflicting harm to someone.

I don’t want to hurt anyone. And aikido understands that. It is about control, peace, and harmony.

So when I got into work last night I talked to David and asked if he would mind if I went on break a little early and came back a little late so I could go to the class.

He was totally fine with that. The students this month have been doing really well, and he said he wouldn’t have a problem manning the ship on his how for a little while.

He said he hoped I enjoyed the class. I guess he’s done aikido in the past. So that was pretty cool.

At 6:40 I left to go to the dojo.

There were other people there, and I was a little nervous. I didn’t have a uniform so I showed up in sweats and a yoga top.

I was partnered with one of the instructors. He was super nice. His son, about 6 or 7 years old, was on the mat with us as well, practicing with another young boy. There was a girl about 12 or 13. A man in about his mid 30s, and I think two other people.

I had an absolute blast.

I learned how to fall down and get back up. I learned a bit about etiquette in the dojo. Everyone was so nice and kind. And it was a great workout. After I had already gone to the gym that day, too.

I loved every second of it, and once the practice was over I signed the paper work for the beginner program, which included my uniform, or gi (g-ee). It included my membership fee to the dojo. So I can go to literally any class I want.

There is a yoga class that is separate, something like $12. That is today at 6 so I am kicking around the idea of going to that.

I already went to class this morning.

The one I went to last night was a beginner’s class. The one this morning (at 7am after I went to sleep at 2am) was a more advanced class, but I was welcomed and a more senior student helped me.

Currently my big issues are posture and extension.

I need to stay straighter and more balanced rather than leaning forward into the moves. I also need to keep my arms extended rather than allowing the other person so close into my space.

You would think as an introvert I wouldn’t have a problem pushing people out of my hamster ball.

The moves feel awesome when I get them right. I can feel a difference when I preform them correctly. I can feel the energy of the movement, and it is an amazing feeling.

I think this is going to be a really positive thing for me.

It has taken all of the extra money that I saved from last paycheck. But I’m ok with that.

My body is tired and sore, but in a good way. It feels like I’ve been using it rather than sitting in front of a computer.

My deltoids are the worst. Most likely from having to push myself up off the mat so much. Like I said though, I’ve enjoyed every second of it. It feels good.

There is another beginner class tomorrow that I want to go to. There’s also a weapons class.

There’s so much to learn.

Really that’s the main thing that has been going on for me.

Today is payday. I haven’t gotten my raise yet. Booooo.

I’m hoping that it will be around a $30 increase. That’s what it was last year.

I’ve already paid bills. I’m still sitting at my sports bar typing this up. I’m about to run to the bank to pay rent and such. After that I’ll most likely go home and rest more. I did that after the class this morning.

Having gotten so little sleep, and doing so much activity the other day, and then getting up to do it all over again this morning really has me feeling my body. I really want to try this yoga class though.

So I will rest, and stitch some, then at six I will go stretch, which I know will make my shoulders feel better. I’m sure my legs could use it as well. I tried running yesterday, which was an awful idea. I only got two minutes of running in before my shin splints revolted against me.

I’m hoping they’ll be good by Sunday.

I got a message from Clavan saying my vacation in February for my cousin’s wedding is approved. SAL and CRI1 are both going to be AM classes next month, which sucks for me.

I hate having to wake up for AM classes. : /

It will be fine though. I’ll just have to get use to the switch.

I’m sure there’s more that I could write about, but I feel like I’m bouncing around on topics, so I’m going to go for now. Cross stitching awaits.

Prompt Page 0019: Burnt

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“Remember the prompt from yesterday when your home was on fire and you got to save five items? That means you left a lot of stuff behind. What are the things you wish you could have taken, but had to leave behind?

I wish I had been able to take my ‘box of memories’.

I know it’s silly, but every card my mom has sent me since I have moved away from home I’ve kept. I have graduation cards, little notes students have written in my notebook while my back was turned. Doodles on napkins and scrap paper that people did just to be cute. The booklets for every graduation I have attended to support one of my students (read friends) as they walked across stage to get their diploma.

I even highlighted their name in the booklet so I would remember who I was there for.

It has some of my fortune cookies, too.

Again, silly maybe, but sometimes they mean a lot to me. Sometimes they speak to me, and remind me of something. Sometimes it’s about who I was with when I got the cookie. The moment we shared something together. Sometimes those slips of paper are important to me, and I keep them along with my cards and notes.

All of the different badges that I have had through school and work. My IT badge while I worked at the Citadel. My student badge for Full Sail. My tour badge from before I was even a student. My lab monitor badge, and then my intern badge when I was finally a graduate. And I’m sure if I ever leave the school my faculty badge will be added to the collection.

All of these little tokens are important to me. I want to keep them with me. But if faced with a fire, a life and death choice, I have to think about what will help me best afterwards, and as much as my heart would ache for those memories, they would not help me as much as the items that I took with me in my last post.

I would long for my cross stitchings. All of the hours I have stitched, Scarlet curled by my side while I listened to a book, creating art out of random, seemingly meaningless threads. Burned to ashes. Dust to run through my fingers. I would be sad, but again, they would not help me rebuild my life.

My sketchbooks. I have ones from middle school still. The first pictures I really put thought behind. The first time I sat down and said, “I want to be an artist. I want to ‘learn’ how to draw”.

Those are my records. My reminders of where I started at so I can see how far I have come. They are my history. Hours of my life, again, nothing but ashes. Scattered into the wind as I stand in the center of destruction.

And my books. Both school, work, and personal. Gone.

My cutting board, which was a gift from my younger bother. All of the spices I have gathered over the years for cooking.

The first set of plates I have ever bought, A dark, rich purple set; unlike anything I have been able to find before or since.

My coffee table. The only piece of furniture I have from when I originally moved to Florida. I bought it from Goodwill. It’s nothing special, and the paint is flaking off, and most people would probably tell me to get rid of it anyway.

But it’s mine and I love it. I love that the paint is flaking off and that it has character. That it isn’t prefect. I love it because it’s been one of the consistent things in my life these past 5 years. Just like my plates.

All of these silly things that wouldn’t help me rebuild my life. But all things that I would cry for. Hurt over. Mourn.

I would lose my desktop computer, a $2000 investment. I would lose my new tablet, I would lose my computer desks which were a gift from Mother Earth. I would lose my bookcase from my mom. I would lose clothing and shoes. I would lose all of my possessions.

But I wouldn’t mourn for those things. I wouldn’t care about my technology melting and sizzling.

I would cry and feel like a terrible person because my cutting board was gone. Because I would no longer have that reminder of my brother who is so far away in Germany.

I would cry because I would never have the same purple glass plates. I would feel like a failure because I couldn’t protect the cards that my mom bought for me out of love, to help ease the transition from living at home to living on my own.

I don’t have much, and not everything is important to me. But something are. And they’re important for sentimental reasons.

You can’t replace sentiment.

I would lose irreplaceable items and I would need time to grieve. Not for the expensive things, but for the small things.

The unimportant things.

The real things.

Prompt Page 0018: Burning Down the House

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Your home is on fire. Grab five items (assume all people and animals are safe). What did you grab?

I have to admit, this one is sort of hard.

I don’t have many things, and a lot of the stuff I have I’m not overly attached to.

I have a lock box full of important papers like my passport, warranties, and such that I would want to grab. Just so I could have all of that information and not have to start from square one after the fire.

My cell phone. So I would be able to let people know what was going on. So my family could still be in touch with me. And so my work and freelance clients wouldn’t be left wondering if I fell off the face of the planet.

My car keys so at the very least I could sleep in my car. I would still be able to get back and forth to work, and finding a new place would be easier since I would still be able to rely on myself for transportation.

My backpack, which is sort of like my survival kit.

It has my laptop, which has all of my work files, and most of my personal files. It has my portable hard drive, so I would have the backups of the files from my desktop computer. It has one of my sketchbooks, the one I am using for class, so I would have all of my current homework. It has a small range of art supplies, my chargers for my laptop and phone, as well as a toiletry bag complete with toothbrush, floss, toothpaste, and deodorant, among other things.

I would have made a better boy scout then my brother…

And as silly as this is, over everything else that I have, everything else that I have spent money on. Over my desktop, my external hard drive. Over my tablet, my cloths, over all of the cross stitchings that I have done. Over food and kitchen gadgets (except maybe my fry cutter… ) Over my sketch books and my box of cards and notes from friends and family.

The last item I would take would be my plushy dragon. My gift from my Mother Earth. I think I could be able to handle losing all of my technology better than I would be able to handle losing my little stuffed animal.

Everything else is a tool. Something to make my life easier, to make me function better. But this plushy is a sign of love and affection and I would be devastated if I were to lose it.

Daily Post 0033: Giant Leaps Forward Shouldn’t Feel This Bad

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There’s a bunch of ickiness inside. After I just wrote about ‘embracing the ick’, too…

Oh Universe. You so funny…

I am almost free from Jarrett.

I was talking with my mom earlier today when I got a call from the leasing office. Jarrett and his new roommate are approved for the lease. All they needed me to do was come in and sign a Roommate Release form, saying that I was no longer obligated to the apartment and that I turn over the security deposit to Jarrett and the new guy.

I hand over $700 to them, and it’s done.

Money I will never see again. On top of my tablet, my microwave. The $60 he still owes me for last month’s bills.

All of the hours of my life. All of the tears I cried. All of the times I tried to talk to him, to let him know that I needed more from him in the relationship. That I felt alone even when we were less than a foot apart.

All of the stress, worry, hurt.

All of these emotions.

All of the love that I felt. The future that I thought we would have.

If I let go of all of that and signed the paper I could be free…

I signed it.

Kari said she would email me a copy once Jarrett and the new guy signed it. That way I have something for my own records.

It’s almost over, and all I feel is a swarm of ‘stuff’ inside.

In my head I feel like I ‘should’ feel relief, joy, even happiness to be so much closer to being done with all of it.

But I don’t feel any of that.

The few times that I’m able to wrangle one of the threads of emotions out of the giant yarn ball inside of myself the feelings are so intense that all I feel is hurt. Pain. So I push it away.

I feel like it’s unjust.

I have done so much. So much to make his life easier before and after our breakup.

Why couldn’t I have my money back?

I don’t ‘need’ it. But it’s mine. I earned it. I worked for that $700 and more. Why can’t you be fair and return what is mine? Why do I have to keep giving to get away from you? And why does it have to hurt when I do?

Why can’t I be happy that you’ll be out of my life, like what I wanted? Why do I have to remember the times you hugged me? The times you made me smile and laugh? Why do I have to remember that I loved you and that this wasn’t what I wanted?

Why can’t you treat me the way I treat you?

I don’t think that’s asking too much. To be treated fairly.

Why does being free make me feel so alone? Why do I feel like a failure when I’m closer than ever to my goals? To my roots?

I think it’s because I feel like I failed you. Us.

I feel like if I had tried harder. Always harder. How it’s never enough and I could have always given more. Been more understanding. Waited longer. Tried being more direct.

I feel like it was my fault even though I know it wasn’t. Logically. Looking purely at detached, emotionless facts, I know I wasn’t the one falling short.

But right now I’m so far from the left side of my brain. I’m entrenched in my right side, my emotions. The section of my brain that is still a four year old girl who sees things in black and white, and who cries out that this isn’t fair. None of this is fair. How could you do this to us? To me?

You said you loved me and I believed you.

I feel lied to. Betrayed.

And yet I am still the one who has to give. Relinquishing possessions that you don’t deserve. That you don’t appreciate. That you look over and take for granite.

It’s not fair, and I wish I could hate you. I wish I could be one of those people who can hold a grudge and be petty. I wish I could have had it in me to not sign that paper because I deserve the things that belong to me.

But I can’t. I had to sign it because I know you have nowhere else to go. That you don’t have the time, or money of your own to find another apartment before the first. I can’t find it in myself to be angry enough to justify screwing you over.

All I can think of is how I wouldn’t want someone to do that to me, so I can’t do it to someone else. Even though so much of me feels like you deserve it.

Part of me desperately wishes I could be that vindictive and spiteful. Part of me wants you to hurt and agonize as much as I have over these past months. And that makes me feel small and shallow.

I should be better than that. I should wish the best for you. And part of me does. Honestly, I want you to be happy and successful. I want you to do well in life.

But part of me hurts anew. And I don’t know what to do with these emotions except bleed them out onto my keyboard. Into a place that you’ll never go, and page you’ll never read. All of this discord caused because I thought you were different. Because I believed what you told me, what you showed me.

Because I believed a lie. And part of the emotions are feelings of foolishness.

How could I believe the things you said? How could I think what we had was real? Would last?

How silly and childish, girlish, of me to believe that you were my forever. How silly of  me to love unconditionally.

I know in time I will feel better. I know this is just the overwhelming rush of emotions. I know today, and maybe tomorrow will be hard and that I’ll be withdrawn and introspective. I know that I will come through this and be stronger for it. Happier.

I know this is the right choice and the right direction. And I know that deep down, somewhere under all of this swirling confusing hurt, I am happy. Truly.

But right now I can’t feel that happiness. And I’m sorry I can’t.

I’m sorry that I still love you and that this hurts for me. Even after everything you have done.

I’m sorry I gave you everything, all of myself, and that it wasn’t enough.

I’m sorry I still miss you.