Dear Anxiety Attack.

Dear anxiety attack:

I'm not sure if you were birthed from the a) Venti Starbucks Coffee I had first thing this morning with no food in my stomach, b) the super chocolaty oozing with sugar and glaze publix donut that followed, c) Wolfsheim Radio on Pandora that blasts Assemblage 23's raw heavy sound dictating my heartbeat or d) the feeling of being pressured to follow someone else's Friday night plans for me....Maybe perhaps, it's e) ALL of the above. Either way, can I have my breath back SOON please?

In addition, I've been meaning to bring up to you that although I appreciate the fact that you are a loyal part of my life...all of these unannounced visits where you stay for a prolonged period of time really must stop. It's kind of rude when you were not invited and I don't know why you are coming to visit in the first place. I'm considering breaking up with you over this. Seriously. It's not me, it's you.

Maybe we should have a sit down with my thoughts, feelings, fears and current stressors. Maybe then we can all come to some rational adult agreement without all of you battling it out and beating each other up. It really makes me tired. Then, when you are trying to explain your side of the story to me alllllllll night long, it makes it really hard to sleep. I'm listening to you, I am...but has anyone ever told you that you talk a littttttle too loud? Didn't your mother ever tell you to use your inside voice? Jeesh!!!!

Listen, I'm really not good at confrontation...so, I'm going to change the station to Ray Lamontagne, eat some lunch, try to compromise, not keep overloading you with my problems and see if you will go on a little vacation. I mean, truly, you deserve it....You've really been working hard lately honey.

Forever yours,

Amanda

Oxymorons...day 2.

It is only Tuesday...and already my week is filled with oxymorons. So....I am taking this opportunity to write a tragic comical blog, FULL of them, to describe in vague detail how I feel.

I'm clearly confused about the constant variables in how people operate. Is it an open secret that I strongly dislike deafening silence? It is my unbiased opinion that the universe might just be evening the odds with me. Hmmmm, that must be it...punishment for being hopelessly optimistic! I am feeling almost exactly how I did 2 months ago, all of this is strangely familiar....and I feel increasingly declined.

Perhaps it is insane logic that I desire intimate strangers. I keep getting it positively wrong and it's sadly funny. As soon as I start to feel somewhat awesome or terribly pleased, a quiet storm arises and turns sh*t upside down.

It is my unsolved mystery. My sun shower of systematic chaos. My pleasant hell.

So, Once again, I will attempt to embrace this linear curve in my journey and not become a human robot living in internal exile.

Sex and the city truths.

"You sleep with someone and start rationalizing the red flags away"

Hahaha!

E-Hoarding.

We all know the show. We all have a grandma who should be ON the show (or maybe I'm alone in that).

Either way....It's a serious (and what I would consider to be a very sad) problem for many people. Although the actual definition of hoarding suggests that items are collected and placed in a HIDDEN location for preservation or future use, it is no secret to anyone that true hoarders sometimes become unable to hide the problem all together, and in turn, end up on A&E for our disgusted judgmental entertainment.

As I mentioned above, my grandmother has alwasy been and still is, what I consider to be a hoarder. As a child and growing teen, I didn't really understand that this was the case...as all of her "collectibles" were saved to help other people or sold at the largest garage sale in Bradenton over the course of several years. (Our family even made the paper several times!) All I knew then was I got to wear the apron, be the boss and most important helper and take strangers money...and that of course, was really all that mattered to me at that time.  Granted, my grandmother isn't "advanced" enough in her hoarding to be on A&E or anything...but as I got older I started to realize that the banana boxes full of old towels, rusted utensils, molded sheets, dusty books, outdated clothing, empty plastic milk or butter containers and bags full of used dirty bread ties...were not useful to anyone at all. Rather, they took up space in every room of our house and every part of our lives. I still cannot remember, to this day, a room not having a banana box stack in it.

I have learned enough about the subject being brought up in it to acknowledge and accept that it has, in a sense, been handed down generations....to my dad, to the grand children, etc. I've gained an insiders understanding about the reasons behind WHY my Nana feels the need to keep everything or why her and my dad dig through dumpsters frequently for "good finds" or a potential sale...., but it still saddens me. It scares me. I know I have this in me....whether I want it or not. I hold onto things, I allow things to hold more emotional value than physical or monitary value and therefore, I cannot let go of them or not grow attached. You can see my floor and stuff...so for now, I'm safe I think....However, this makes me wonder if I'm the new technology reliant, earth friendly generation of a Hoarder?

::enter dramatic sound::

da da duuuuuuummmmmm.....Theeeee E-Hoarder. da da duuuummmmmmm.

I just realized today...I've started finding a reason to save email conversations in new folders in my Yahoo Mailbox. I seriously have sepearate e-mail folders for exes, current attractions...., tickets, family, misc., keep, girls that broke up with me alot, insurance and funny stuff. Really? Should I be worried or is this me just being organized? Why do I need to hold onto email conversations? I guess this would come in handy if I got hit on the head at Nana's by an avalanche of falling banana boxes and lost my memory...but still.

I may be treading on dangerous ground.

Casey Anthony Trial...a beautiful life, after all.

So...the jury is out, and now...back in. After 10+ hours of deliberation, they only find Casey Anthony guilty of lying to the Po-Po (as we from Bradenton like to call police officers) and not of murder, manslaughter OR child abuse.

I am refusing to make this post some long, d r a w n (not to be confused with "drown", aka, what Casey claims happened to Caley...) out opinion of whether or not I think she is guilty of ending the human life of her offspring. However, being that I am a switch hitter (You may also hear republicans often refer to this term as "rider of the fence"), in every sense of the word...I have to at least, be able to apply both sides to the equation to reach such opinion. Soooooo....I do not think there was enough evidence to convict her of murder. Buuuuuutttttt, I definately think she was guilty of extensive neglect, at minimum...which to me, and apparently to Wikipedia. actually = child abuse! DUH! Let us define "neglect"...shall we?

Neglect is a passive form of abuse in which the perpetrator is responsible to provide care for a victim who is unable to care for oneself, but fails to provide adequate care to meet the victim's needs, thereby resulting in the victim's demise.

Demise = death.

I'm not that good at math but Casey Anthony + Caley Anthony + Neglect - Murder STILL equals neglect, which STILL equals abuse, right? Is that definition of neglect not universal? Guess not to these Pinellas County folk. They must be from Kenneth City or Pinellas Park.

As facebook, chat rooms, tv guests and thousands of  blog comments blow up with disgust, shame and shock over this verdict....I am going to make better use of my time. I'm going to start compiling my list of people I can get away with murdering. 

Bonnaroo...Dirt, Music and Self Awakening.

I have been thinking all day about how to find the right words, if there even are the words available, to describe the magic I have just experienced in the last week. I'm not sure those words exist...and I'm definitely not sure that even if they do, I could mold them together well enough to do Bonnaroo justice..., but everything in me is screaming that I need to try.

The immediate events leading up to the trip I've been planning for 6 months were less than magical, to say the least. Friends worlds colliding, plans changing, people added, people dropped out, extra ticket sold, extra ticket not sold, driving all over creation TO sell the ticket, etc, etc. However, at the end of the day...in the retrospect of a day's time...I've come to the realization that ALL of those things worked out exactly how they were meant to, in exactly the order and design GOD OPRAH must have intended.

Before I knew it....it was two Amanda's and a Kirsten, on the road sharing a 10 and a half hour drive, complete with everything 3 ladies would need in order to sleep outside for 4 days in the middle of nowhere + music, laughter, pain to be mended, open minds and welcoming hearts. It was beauty in the making...

We arrived alive and checked in to our newly built, thank the heavens for Priceline.com hotel room, where a good nights sleep and fresh shower were in order. We left to find food and cold cheap beer and found the most hilarious southern waitress as an added bonus. She kept saying "Good Deal" in an accent not one of us could accurately mimic to perfection. We loved her and man oh man, did she love US! She brought us free cider, made us laugh uncontrollably and at one point even tried to work her southern charm to get us a police escort to Bonnaroo. Stephanie was a sweetheart...., a true Tennessee tip-working terrific.

Skipping ahead to the festivities, (which I will have to try and mash together)...Festivities meaning all 700 acres of land occupied by 90,000 music loving hippies. We struggled at first to set up the 8 person tent which we borrowed from Amanda's brother...but then we met Sam. Our ever so macguiver like neighbor, who helped us, welcomed us, introduced his gf Amanda (yes, another one) to us, schooled us on the Roo do's and dont's and in the end, became more than just our neighbor and our all around "go-to" guy, but became our friend.

We drank alot, ate a little, people watched, collaborated our schedule, wondered off to find cheap coffee and access the walk of shame to the port-o-potties. The teepee tents, Lackin road (which we cutely nicknamed "bitchez are lackin' road") and a Britain Flag were our landmarks in a sea of cars, tents, tall grass, mystery bugs, un-earthly friendly people and a hell of alot of dust.

Music anxiety quickly filled us up and we entered Centeroo & addictively began seeing great band after great band after...you guessed it, great band. Eminem, Florence & the Machine, Ray, Amos Lee, Grace Potter & the Nocturnals, School of Seven Bells, Mumford & Sons, Robert Plant with Patty Griffin, Atmosphere, Scissor Sisters, G. Love, Widespread Panic and more! We got lost once, learned alot about one another, walked alot, bathed with jugs of water, used two boxes of baby wipes, cuddled, laughed, reflected, sweated uncontrollably, threw up, drank more, held hands, sang, danced...(well, I danced), borrowed, shared and, perhaps most importantly, gained an incredible appreciation for the small things.

I let go of things, I jumped into the unknown, I looked fear in the face, I felt something...a deep connection not only to someone, but to everything...down to the microscopic matter that was woven together to create the most humbling experience of my life thus far.

There is so much more....more out there and more inside of me. Bonnaroo let me taste that and I am forever grateful and indebted.

Amanda, Kirsten, Sam & Amanda and Bonnaroo, THANK YOU.  

My soul is etched with magic and I only hope that next year will kick this year's ass!

Things that make you go Hmmmm.

Per the usual...I was squatting over the toilet in the ladies room thinking about things that perplex me. Here is a list of just a few I came up with. (I just LOVE lists....don't you??)

1. Large gaps in bathroom stalls that are supposed to PROTECT you from being seen, recognized or embarrassed when doing your personal business. Why have walls at all if the gaps are so big you can practically stick your arm through to hand your co-worker a piece of one-ply?

2. Instructions on Shampoo. (i.e. Use a dime sized amount) Does that work for everyone or just babies or bald men?

3. Why have rules like "I" before "E" except after "C" if the rule doesn't apply 100% of the time?

Care to read more perplexing things? The following website has a pretty good list.

http://www.dreamhaven.org/~data/humor/questions.html

What makes YOU (meaning the 5 or 6 of you that actually read this blog, a.k.a my diehard fans!) go hmmmm?