Going In Circles.

So, I’ve decided to take a little unexpected trip back to New York. Planning on leaving at the end of the week and making that horrible, HORRIBLE 14-hour drive. It’s not a permanent move, much to the disappointment of my family, I’m sure, but rather kind of an extended visit of sorts. Just a couple of weeks. I planned on trying to make it back for my niece’s talent show at the end of the month anyhow–she’s singing–and things are a little…well, complicated here at the moment. Work is well…work. I can’t complain though. As a freelancer, I have the freedom to literally work from anywhere, so I’m fortunate in that respect. This whole living situation/arrangement I managed to get myself mixed up in…it’s not the greatest. I know, I know…it’s my own doing. And I was crazy and just plain dumb to think that moving in with two men–two total, complete strangers–that I met through Craigslist–of all places–would somehow be a good idea. Not surprisingly, I was wrong. As usual. Guess I can just add this to my list of all the many, many reckless/ridiculous decisions that I seem to have a penchant for making. That’s w me. Impulsive to the bone. Sometimes I reflly do wonder how it is even possible that I’ve made it to 27 years old. No joke. I swear, one of these days, my stupidity/recklessness is going to get me killed or something. When I’m in one of my dark and twisted little moods, I sometimes wonder why I do crazy things like this. Why I’m so impulsive. Part of me can’t help but wonder if deep down in the dark recesses of my being, if I’m doing I’m doing it on purpose. Like I’m knowingly–yet un-knowingly–playing some game of Russian Roulette with my life. Heck–people have been telling me for years that I’m asking for trouble by doing some of the crazy things that I’ve been known to do. Maybe they’re right. I don’t know. I mean, it’s not like I’m deliberately putting myself in these unsafe/doomed from the onset situations. I’m messed up…but I’m not that messed up. I don’t think. I think I’m just way too trusting. I guess I want to believe that there are still good, honest people in the world, I really do…and maybe that’s being too naive…something, I don’t know. Maybe it’s the adrenaline rush…like I’m addicted to the danger so I unintentionally, subconsciously seek it out. Who knows.

So yeah, that’s that. As much as I really don’t want to go back to New York–for any length of time–I think that, for the moment, it’s probably the best/safest solution for me. So, that’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to spend some down-time with my family and the kids for a couple of weeks and work out a place down here in Nashville while I’m there. It’s not the easiest task–finding a place in Nashville when you’re physically in New York–but I was able to find that place over in Brentwood where I was originally going to lease when I moved down…before my last-minute decision just to stay on campus in the res hall. Sooo I think I can do it again. It’s gonna be tough, but it’s do-able. I’ve got to be back anyhow, at the latest, by June 10th. That’s when production and shooting starts for the film I’m working on. Andddd the timing couldn’t be better seeing how that’s right around CMA Fest time…and there’s no way I’m missing that. No freakin’ way.

So yeah, here’s to me making that 14 hour drive unscathed, keeping my sanity in the time that I’m in New York, and some much needed down-time to reflect and start making “RESPONSIBLE/SAFE” choices…or at least making an attempt/effort to… 🙂




Well, it’s a winter-albeit a frozen one-wonderland outside here in Nashville. Today was my first official Southern Snow Day…which sounds kind of ironic, but is totally awesome. 🙂 When I woke up this morning, I saw the text from the school saying that classes were closed due to “poor weather conditions”…so naturally, I looked out the window and laughed. There was a dusting of snow on the ground, if that. Then, of course, I actually went outside and got up close and personal with the sleet rain. It was kind of a beautiful actually. There was ice on everything. All the branches on the trees that line the little walkway by the lake next to the res halls were covered in ice…of course, I had to snap a picture.

nashville snowicestorn 2.16.2015

Then I went back inside and promptly proceeded to nearly fall on my ass in front of the roommates because the bottom of my boots were coated in ice. Epic klutz move of mine, for sure. I had to run to the store, which is just up the road, so of course, the New Yorker in me was like “no problem, what’s a little ice…I’ve driven in worse”. Um yeah, totally overestimated that one. For starters, the truck was COVERED in ice. I mean, literally covered in a sheet of ice that had to have been at least half an inch thick or more. And dummy that I am, I didn’t even bother to bring a snow brush or an ice scraper with me when I moved down here. Never figured I’d actually need one. Guess that’s what I get for thinking. So I sat in the truck for a while and let it warm up, thinking the defroster would work its magic on the ice. Again…me and my assumptions. So there I was, standing in the sleet for a good twenty minutes trying to crack through some of the ice on the windshield with my BARE hands and some metal twisty thing I happened to find in the truck. The good news is that I did manage to clear off the windshield…the bad news is that I also managed to slice open the knuckle on my finger on the ice in the process. Note to myself, ice is sharp. Like, really, really sharp. Seeing how I’d gone through all that trouble, I decided to still go to the store. Honestly, the roads weren’t as bad as I was expecting. They were a little icy and slushy in places, but nothing major. At least not by NY standards, I should say. I still keep having to remind myself that I’m not in NY…that I’m in the south…and people down here aren’t used to this crazy icy, winter weather. There weren’t a lot of people out. It was like Nashville had turned into a ghost town overnight. It was so strange, but awesome.

I got another text late this afternoon saying school was closed again tomorrow (Tuesday)…so I get two back-to-back Southern Snow Days. It’s like double the awesome. Despite the mayor calling for people to try to stay off the roads tomorrow, I think I’m gonna try to get downtown and shoot some pics of this winter wonderland while it’s still here. Call me crazy…but I’m from New York. It’s like culturally ingrained.

Hopefully we’ll get some a decent accumulation of snow overnight…because I’m totally down for building a snow man!! 🙂


So Said Little Red Riding Hood…

Okay, a little random post from my wonderfully random life…

So, as I’ve mentioned many times in this blog, I’m not a big fan of religion. I wouldn’t really call myself an atheist though. It’s not that I don’t believe in God per se…I’m just more the “have to see it to believe it” type myself. As for whether the Devil or Satan or some other kind of anti-Christ whatever exists…again, I don’t know. I do believe in good though…and I do know that evil exists, because I’ve seen it. Time and time again…in the news, on TV, in news feeds splashed across social media…even just walking down the street, I’ve seen it. We all have. Evil exists and that’s a fact. I don’t know if I buy the whole “everyone is born good” thing though. Personally, I don’t think it’s true. I think there really are people in this world that are born just plain evil. I say that because we’re all born into the same world. For the most part, we see the same things, we learn the same things, we do the same things…we just do it at different times and in different ways. And I know that some people have it really hard. I know that there are babies and kids that are born into a living hell of abuse and crime and drugs…and I know that it’s different for them, I do. But I also think that despite where you come from or how bad of a childhood you may have had…you still know right from wrong. Bad things happen to everyone…no matter who you are or what neighborhood you’re from. No one’s immune to the evil that exists everywhere in the world. No one. So for people to claim that it was the shitty childhood they had that made them kill or rape or hurt, or that they weren’t loved enough…no. I’m sorry, but I don’t accept it. It’s an excuse…and a pitiful one at that. Which is probably why I’m not a judge or a lawyer…well that, and because I think the whole legal system in this country is an absolute joke…but it’s mostly the former. I think that people who are evil…are born evil. Like the murdering jerk in Newtown…he was evil. I find it so ridiculous and frustrating how these so-called medical experts are trying to play it off like he was sick or mentally unhinged or something of the sort. What’s even more ridiculous is how many people ACTUALLY believe it and are buying into it. They’re sheep, that’s what they are, if you ask me…totally oblivious to the fact that those so-called “experts” have an agenda all their own. One that I’m pretty certain has absolutely nothing to do with what happened in that school or with the gunman at all, none whatsoever. They’ve said it themselves in the interviews and on the news…they want to put a face on mental illness…and that’s exactly the opportunity that gunman gave them. It’s ridiculous. I mean, from what I’ve heard and read, it doesn’t sound like people have a clue really as to what was going through that psycho’s mind or who he was, even. They’ve thrown around labels like “loner” and “social outcast” and “geek”…but that’s all they are…just words. So basically… he was quiet and withdrawn and didn’t have many friends. Okay…um, that pretty much describes half the adolescent population in this country. You don’t see all of THEM waking up one morning, shooting their mothers in the face while they sleep, then go shoot up an elementary school and take their “rage” out against a bunch of first-graders. I mean, it just doesn’t happen. Good people don’t do that. I’m not saying that good people are perfect and are incapable of doing anything wrong. I’m just saying that THAT kind of evil…it doesn’t come from at some slasher website or violent TV show or some stupid video game. I don’t care what people say or what some shrink with some fancy Ph. D’s hanging on his or her office wall thinks…it’s just not true.

Okay, so the gunman was depressed. Big freaking deal. Who isn’t, at some point or another in their life? So he got picked on by the popular kids…again, big freaking deal. It’s high school. You want to get revenge and put them in their place…go for it. Go to MIT or somewhere, get a degree, write a computer program or sell an idea for millions…then go back for your reunion and rub it in the faces of all those washed-up jocks that did nothing with their lives and their used-up cheerleader then girlfriend/now wives that work in some dive or are cashiers at local supermarket. Do that. You want to make a name for yourself in the history books? Run for President or something. Hell, if you’re that unhappy or you feel your life isn’t worth living…here’s an idea…kill yourself. I’m sorry, I know that’s probably a horrible thing to say and granted, suicide isn’t really the answer (or shouldn’t be, I should say) but come on. I’m sure I’m not the only one in the world who feels like this about that gunman. Granted, I don’t have all the facts and I don’t know what incited him to do what he did…but whatever it was, it doesn’t excuse or justify his actions that day. It just doesn’t. And those shrinks that are trying to defend his behavior by painting him a victim in the name of mental illness–well to put it bluntly–they’re just plain idiots. He was no victim. He was a cold-blooded, ruthless coward and murderer. To say anything less than that is just an insult to all the REAL victims of that senseless tragedy that day. He was sick, yes…deranged even, but he wasn’t irrational or unaware of his actions. His actions were deliberate and planned, despite what has been and is being said to the contrary. He wasn’t a child. He was a 20-year-old man. An adult. He knew right from wrong and he knew what would happen and the consequences he’d have to face if he were caught and taken into custody alive…and that’s why he killed himself. I know it and so does anyone else with half a brain and a conscience. Personally, I think the whole investigation into the shooting is a waste of time, I really do. I know the police have to do it and that its their job, but honestly, it’s a waste. They can sift through boxes of evidence and photos and crime scene reports…they can go through his hard drive and computer records and retrace every internet site he visit he visited, every keystroke…but to what end? This isn’t a puzzle. It’s not a mystery to solve. I know people want answers and that they truly believe that having them will provide them with some sense of closure or something. But there are no answers for this kind of thing. There’s just right and wrong. Good and evil. That man…the gunman–he was evil. It’s that simple.

Anyhow, I totally got side-tracked there with my good and evil rant. In getting back to religion and all that mumbo-jumbo stuff…I don’t know what I believe. What TO believe, I should say. I wish it were that simple sometimes. That I could draw some kind of comfort from knowing that there’s something more out there–some higher power, so to speak. I see people who are so devout, and so certain of their faith, and just so sure of everything really…and sometimes I wish I could be like that–to have that kind of certainty. That strength, almost. I grew up in church. I was raised a Christian–to believe in God and the “power of prayer” and all that. But then I actually grew up and realized that it’s not that black and white. That it’s just not that simple. People think it is, but it’s not. I mean, how do you believe in a loving God when there’s so much evil in the world? When good, innocent people and children are suffering and dying each and every day? I read Brandi’s page and all the comments people leave about how they’re praying for Lena and how they just know it’ll be okay and sometimes…sometimes it just makes me so mad, you know? Not at the people themselves, because they’re just holding on to hope and the thought of it not being okay is unfathomable, but mad at religion and at this “God” of theirs. I mean it’s not prayers that are going to save Lena. She needs a cure. A medical miracle. Something. I just don’t understand it. I mean, I look at her–this beautiful little girl who is in so much pain and going through absolute hell–AGAIN–and I just can’t understand how anyone could believe in or put their faith in a God that would let something like this happen to a little girl like Lena, or any child for that matter. It just doesn’t seem right. Maybe it’s wrong for me to say that or to discount everything I was raised to believe, but that’s how I feel.

I don’t know if there’s a heaven or a hell or any kind of afterlife, for that matter. I’d like to think that there is. I mean, I’d like to think that there’s more to life than just living and dying. I think everyone wants to believe that, that way maybe death isn’t so final or as scary. Maybe I’m weird. Maybe I’m crazy. I don’t know. But for some reason, death doesn’t scare me. My death, that is. I’m not afraid of dying. To be honest, I think I’m more afraid of living…especially in the world we live in now. I don’t know. It drives my family crazy when I talk about it and how I’m not afraid of it. I guess I just don’t see why it has to be so scary. I mean, we live, we die…it’s going to happen…so why not just accept it? That’s not to say that I want to die tomorrow or anything, because of course I don’t. There’s still so much I want to do and places I want to go. I haven’t really lived yet and I want to. But life is short, as we all know, and anything can happen. As for an afterlife…I’m not sure if I buy the whole heaven or hell…Pearly Rates or Ring of Fire thing. Personally, if I had to choose…I think I’ll go with neither. I’m not really into the whole “for eternity” thing or wearing white or halos. I’m not too big on fire or heat or horns either, so Hell’s out, too I guess. But…I wouldn’t mind doing the whole ghost thing for awhile…you know, sticking around, haunting people…driving people crazy. Now that’s the kind of afterlife I’d probably enjoy, for a little while anyhow…until I get bored.

Speaking of ghosts…I totally have one. And no, I’m not crazy. I mean, if people can believe in a God that they can’t see or hear or prove for a fact that he/she exists…then what’s so wrong about believing in ghosts? I mean, it’s only fair, right? Either way, it’s true. Ghosts DO exist. And I’m not talking about Paranormal or some Hollywood hype whatever. My ghost….I named him Casper by the way…has been pretty friendly, for the most part. Not eyes glowing creepy or scary or anything like that. I don’t really know how to describe him really (or if he’s a HE per-se…I just really wanted to call him Casper and wouldn’t work for a girl ghost so I call him a HE). He doesn’t talk. But then, I guess if he did then this would be a whole other issue of crazy, wouldn’t it? Anyhow…I’ve only seen him at night and even then, it’s not “seeing” really…more like that feeling you get when you know you’re not alone in a room…it’s more like that. And it’s weird, but I almost want to say that he seems sad. I don’t know…it’s hard to explain. Anyhow, he’s been a friendly “ghost”…up until last weekend when I woke up with these nasty dig-like scratches and bruises on one of my arms…and no clue whatsoever where they came from. Considering my horrible habit of biting my nails–which, yeah I really need to stop–there’s no way my nails did it. I mean, anything’s possible, right? So yeah, I guess maybe my nails grew magically overnight and maybe I had an awesome catfight in my dreams and just don’t remember it–you never knew. I think the more logical conclusion–despite evidence to the contrary–is that my nice little ghost decided to be not-so-friendly…who knows. Either way, I have a ghost. His (or Her) name is Casper. And it’s awesome. Well…it beats magical nails and catfight dreams any day. Haha. On that note–although I could probably talk about this kind of stuff for hours. And don’t even get me started on Wicca because I could talk about THAT for days…spells, tarot…great stuff. I swear sometimes, I think I must have been a Salem Witch in another life or something. Uh oh…isn’t the past lives/reincarnation stuff Buddhist-centric? I think so. I always get that and Judaism screwed up. Oh well, I think reincarnation is freaking awesome. It’s a fascinating thought–the possibility of having lived all these other lives…so much cooler than a time machine. Also, according to my grams, Wicca and witchcraft are Satanic and therefore it’s bad. She calls it “the Devil’s work.” But then again, she says the same about Halloween and trick-or-treating (apparently kids wearing costumes and getting candy is somehow immoral…who the heck knows with her. The woman isn’t too logical sometimes, so I take most of what she says with a grain of salt. If she can have Jesus and God, then I get to have my spells and tarot cards. It’s only fair. Just between us, part of me hopes that she and all the other believers are wrong and there is no God. I mainly say that because if there is–well then, I’m totally screwed. Hell, I think I’ve already broken half of the “10 Commandments”, just in this post alone. Oops. Oh well.

Anyhow, that’s enough blogging for the night for me….too much actually, considering my really sucks elbow injury from last night when I slipped and fell on it in the parking lot of a store. I got myself banged up quite nicely this time–thanks to my wonderful klutzy ways. Technically, I’m supposed to be wearing a sling and not moving my arm alot…so typing–probably not the best thing to be doing right now, but I hate slings. Luckily the great pain meds I’m on make it much, much easier. I’m feeling realllllllly good right now. And sleepy…nite!


PS: The proof that it’s not all in my head. 🙂 So there. Ha.

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