the angel Gabriel was sent from God

Good morning.

This is a pretty grim Saturday, but I guess I have to start somewhere.

Hanging out in Cathedrals is not tied to my line of work, but is just a hobby of mine.
The auto-mechanic told me that it was a 2 hour wait ("at least...and then we want to check the alignment and see if any more work needs to be done") and that they have coffee and apples. He pointed to the granny smiths and the canisters and smiled proudly. "That you do," I replied with a smile. "You can change the channel on the TV, too, if ya want...or are you coming back to pick your car up?" "I"ll stay," I said.

I go my coffee, my apple and left the building in pursuit of what comes next.

I make up stories and I get my ideas from dreams. My dream was the worst imaginable thing to witness, but then a happy ending. My bird's-eye view of the town captured the rupturing tidal wave that destroyed my family's house. The homes and beautiful sequoia trees were all covered by a wave that made its way toward me, at the top of the mountain I had hiked. I dashed to the highest point and watched he wave engulf the town below me. The wave then descended back into the sea, and in no time, I sprinted down the mountain and to my family's home to find the house perfectly in-tact. They were still alive.

200 meters from the VA Tire and Auto is a cathedral. I told myself that I am to go to the largest Gothic cathedral in the world and sit in the pews and say Hail Mary's. Francis of Assisi never made plan ever and he liked to see where each day took him. I sit in the immense church looking up at the crucifix and the tabernacle, and I just have the desire to touch it. I can't bring myself to go to any type of church besides a catholic one.

No one is in the church, and I think of the poor souls in the waiting room. All huddled together, sipped out of their cups with the Virginia Tire & Auto logo, half-concerned about Jersey Shore or some other reality TV nonsense. I pray for them. Then, I pull out my notebook, and I plot.

No one is in the church, which is upstairs, but there is a charity drive or something going on downstairs. I simply walked right into the church and found a comfy spot at one of the pews where I could sit in serenity. There is no more serene indoor place as an empty church. No library can touch it. An elderly woman sits in a pew way on the other side. She has bags with her. Another man in a red sweater walks in after she leaves. After 30 minutes, I notice he has his hands over his eyes, as though he might be crying. We are the only two souls in the whole church at this point.

"post-modern"

I don't think it's a bad thing to strip yourself of everything you detest but put up with before only because other people like those things. For instance, the talk show, the media, and the pop culture. Sometimes one is anachronistic and belongs in another decade - in my case it is that I belong in another century. To be exact, I belong in the prior century. I would not mind having been born 100 years ago and being 32 in 1918. Like, on that note, why the hell aren't we celebrating the end of World War I?

WHY AREN'T WE CELEBRATING THE END OF WORLD WAR I?
WHY AREN'T WE CELEBRATING THE END OF WORLD WAR I?
WHY AREN'T WE CELEBRATING THE END OF WORLD WAR I?
WHY AREN'T WE CELEBRATING THE END OF WORLD WAR I?

Why can't I get this chant out of my mind? The townspeople were all around here with pitch forks.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vkfpi2H8tOE

1/54000th of my year

Here's a bit of 2018 - random diary entry I cut and pasted.

last night during spinning i decided to zone out, not that i don't normally zone out, but i decided to really pursue the "zone." that meant, of course, that i wasn't applying myself in either speed or strength on the stationary cycle, nor was i paying attention to the boom boom beat.

What i was doing was looking through the mirror in front of me at the men in the gym behind the spinning classroom. none of them were cute, and in fact all were overweight, aside from a few buff guys who were tatted up. But then i saw one guy...one tall ginger with dark brown eyes (this was him through the mirror and i can't be sure his eyes were brown), and he looked like someone I once dated only taller.  I stared at him for minutes and lost myself in his strength as he picked up and released the dumbbell then went at it again. I swear he was looking at me too, but I also realized "no...how would that be possible, he can't see into the spinning room...he can only see his reflection." 

Then, finally spinning class ended, and I realized I had the chance to look at him not through a reflection but in the flesh and blood, and his flesh was very sweaty. I was the first one out of the exercise room, and I took to the ab machine with gusto. He walked straight past me to the water fountain, and as he walked past, he looked at me. I just could not look at him. His face in my peripherals looked so dreamy and much like a face I once knew, and that just made me feel sad. And I still feel sad. He started dead squats on the other side of the room.

It's unfair to go on but i must. last night I told myself that i would allow myself to feel everything that I had to and I would allow myself to space out when i needed to...I won't try so hard to not be me in other words.

But then later in 2018, months and months later, I realized that I could not deal with the anger and resentment I felt for myself for having taking on what I take on, and I just had to check out and have the drink that numbs you. Next time I feel tired of everything in life, instead of numbing myself, I think I will choose to face the horror of reality head on. It merely means a night of shear and utter panic - something I'm not not akin to.I imagine myself pacing, my stride being more than my meager house can bare, and then me taking that forceful stride outside. I'll find myself thinking of something else eventually, and I'll stop hating everything until I am flung back into it all again.

THE FEELING - I can't stop cursing and saying "god damn" out loud. i need to get a new job and a new career, or to become a "career woman" you'll have to live the rest of your life (aka the next year or so until you meet someone else) with the notion that you've missed out. Dont know what happened between you and these beings, but you should not hate them so much. We are all deeply flawed, after all. 

I've hearkened on something new

Couldn't really figure out how to use that word, but I am absolutely certain it's the one I wanted to use. It's like the moments I want to use convivial jovality to describe that one person whose presence I could bask in all the live-long day. Insert obligatory sentence about how I will begin to blog again. This is the only website I have for personal thoughts, and so, with this blog, I will "make remarks" and "give observations" about my life as a "32"-year-old woman living and working in Northern Virginia. I think my days go by just as many of my coworkers' - so fear not - for I notice not everyone to be a bundle of joy, and there is a sombre atmosphere in a great deal of places. But Las Vegas is the one place I found to be exciting, gorgeous, and filled with happy people. I realize that I am going to have to find other vacation spots as equally beautiful and exciting - I can forever say goodbye to vacationing in Appalachia, Virginia Beach (tried it once, yuck), or in some other foothill within an hour's drive. I think I am going to have to go to New York very soon in order to keep up the optimism and the cheer.