Thinking out loud

In the glow of having a zOMG NEW BLOG, (and having never had one before) I've been spending a fair bit of time cruising around, checking out other people's blogs, looking at the things other people do, the goals they have, and what they write about. And I've discovered a few things.

1) the idea of having babies is completely foreign to me, and runs contrary to my instincts.
This has nothing to do with my main point, but, it's still valid. I just don't understand the need to have babies. (Ok, I understand the need to have babies. But... there are seven or eight billion people on this planet, humanity will get along just fine without my particular offspring.)

2) My goals are starting to solidify.
I don't really know how I stumbled to the conclusion that I wanted what I want. I was just horribly depressed and suddenly chickens sounded like a good idea. They don't require a fabulous amount of space, they provide you with fresh eggs, and they're fun to watch. But at the same time, I have a career I've worked toward. Stage Management is fulfilling for me. That misplaced mother instinct (as evidenced by numero eins up there) rests on my actors instead. I want nothing more than to care for my company, and serve them well during whatever production I might be working on. Lastly, I have one very rewarding hobby, and I'm working at developing a few more. Burlesque is rewarding to me. There's nothing like spending the evening in the company of women who are beautiful simply because they believe they're beautiful. I'm cultivating a stamina for knitting, I'd like to do the same for sewing. I'd like to be able to make good quality things for myself and for others, someday.

And I don't think that I should have to pick and choose my dreams. I don't understand why I can't get up in the morning, feed my chickens, work during the day at making things for others, then spend my nights alternately keeping the stage or taking my clothes off. I don't understand why living in a city means I have to be content with what the Jewel offers me to eat. Why can't I sustain myself? It's becoming more of a question of sustaining myself, nourishing myself, not only with good, fresh foods, but also with stimulating activity, things that interest me and energize me.

So my goals are becoming clearer. Now I get to start the research. I'm a city girl, living in Chicago, but a Detroit expat. I know nothing about crop rotation, or what I could even put in the space I'll likely have. I will need to learn how to be creative with space. I'll need to learn to use what I have, instead of ignoring it in the name of "whatever I feel like." I need to learn to depend on myself.

Progress

...and, in some cases, a little bit of regress.

Progress comes with a variety of faces. And sometimes, a little regress is welcome too.
I have been continuing with my goal of knitting daily, and I have put out three blanket squares in (I believe) less than three weeks. What took me months to do before, I've done in a matter of weeks, and there's a fair bit of pride in me to realize that my actions have tangible results.

Progress, too, has been made in the realm of my personal existence. I discovered earlier in the week that a boy with whom I have a long and arduous past has recently gotten himself a Facebook, after years of adamantly denying he would ever have one. Upon a quick overview of the place (something that it pains me even to admit having done) I have discovered that, in fact, he is still the same boy I demanded leave my life a year ago this month. And it is becoming clear to me now, in ways that somehow eluded me for the previous FIVE YEARS, that this separation is exactly what I need. And that I need to concentrate on what I've done and accomplished.
Yes, this past year has been insanely rough for me without his presence, but I've done so damn much. I moved to a new city. I lived on my own. I've stumbled through a series of more or less successful jobs. I've Stage Managed two professional shows. And I've discovered the Burlesque community, a group of amazing, empowering, ridiculously sexy women who inspire me to find the beauty in myself and flaunt it mercilessly.
And what has he done? Stayed, to my knowledge, in the same apartment. Worked a circuit of Ren. Fairs. Fucked a lot of stupid young girls who didn't know better. In short, the same damn thing he's been doing, pretty much since I met him.

One day our paths will cross again, I am fair certain of it. (or maybe I just still hope, foolishly) But if they don't... then it is my stalwart goal to become the heir to the Burlesque throne, be beautiful, poised, graceful, and self-assured. And leave him to wonder just why it was that he thought I was no better than a doormat to be used up and flung out into the rain.



...And as for the regression I spoke of at the beginning of this post, it comes in the form of an old friend, or maybe just an old fandom. A marathon of Stargate: SG-1 reruns yesterday made me think about my early college days, when such events were a weekly occurrance. How different I was then. I used to take time out of each day to recognize the beauty of the world around me. I lived slowly and thoughtfully. I watched the stars, walked in the rain, and meditated frequently.

I feel as though that might be a touchstone for me. Something to get back to. And if it takes a marathon of Stargate now and again to remind me... then so be it.

The 30 day plan

Like him or hate him, Josef Stalin had at least one good idea. The five-year plan. He laid out, in five year blocks, goals designed to push Russia through the Industrial Revolution and into the 2oth century. And he did it.

And I'm going to do the same thing. On a smaller scale.

It only takes, as I'm sure you've heard, 21 days to make a habit. So... I'm going to round that up to an even month, and have a go at it. I'm going to spend the next few months doing *something* every day, until I just do it every day out of habit.

This month is knitting. Even if I only knit one row, I will knit every single day in February. I'll finish a whole lot of my unfinished projects that way.

Hopefully, after a few months, I'll have a whole slate of things that I love to do, that aren't just clicking away mindlessly at my computer.

Welcome

Welcome to my... life, I guess.
I've been someone who has wanted a blog for many years, but could never think of what to blog about. My life was never the kind I thought would be interesting to other people. And, indeed, it wasn't. It isn't. As it stands right now, I am 23, broke, and living in the big city. I don't go out with friends, I have no serious hobbies, and I am a shameless internet addict.

BUT.

I have a goal. By the time I am 35 years old, I want to live the life I've so far only dreamed of. I want to own a home, an urban farmstead. I want to escape the daily grind of 9to5, and live solely off the profits of my real passion (professional theatre) and whatever hobbies might crop up along the way.

And I'm treating the next twelve years as an experiment in getting there. Because I not only need to work hard, if I plan to live outside the world of financial security, but I also need to cultivate the sense of self that I somehow lost along the way to this point.

You will probably find all sorts of nonsense here in the future. Musings on my progress, admonishments for not moving along as I planned. Insights as to how exactly I'm accomplishing what I have. It will probably be two parts artistic ramblings and one part financial woes. And you might even get to hear about my not-wedding, if that happens as I suspect it might.
So... join me. Maybe my journey won't be quite as straight as the crow flies. But... We'll get there.