Change is in the air.

This is my first year that I've had to face the face the fact that the chances of me being able to go home for the holidays are slim to none. I've been very spoiled with my work schedules over the years. Every year I've been able to come home for Christmas and Thanksgiving to be with family. But this year is different. I looked at my work schedule this week and came to the realization that my plans to go to Kansas with Adam had to be canceled. Its a lonely, sad kind of feeling. On one hand, I'll be making money, which is great. On the other hand, I'll be missing the chance to see and check up on the people I love.

I guess I don't know how to feel about it. The realistic side of me tells me I can't expect much more. In the world of adultness, not everyone is blessed to be able to see family on holidays. There are millions of people that have to work through every holiday or birthday that means something to them. I'm not special but half of me wants to throw a tantrum. I want to see my family, I want to gorge myself on turkey and good alcohol, and I want to feel a part of things. I want to be the one there watching my little brothers and sisters open presents. I want to be selfish and tell my managers that I don't care if their son is celebrating his second Christmas; my Christmas and my Thanksgiving is what matters.

Sometimes I feel like I'm drifting too far from my family. More and more often I feel like the outsider looking in. Its nothing that can be blamed on my family; something has just changed in me. I wonder if everyone goes through this in their life. Maybe its the indecision that I'm facing. I don't know where exactly my life is leading me. All I know is that I love my classes and I love staying hours after classes chain smoking and talking politics and periods with people that I honestly don't know much about. But when I sit down with family to talk about my goals and what I hope to do with my life, I feel really set apart, that somehow things just aren't adding up. I think its me. I don't know if its me. Its a conundrum to say the least. There are times where I don't really care what's going on...where I'll go days without talking to a family member and I'm not bothered. Other times I feel so desperately lonely that I face turning back to teenage angst, screaming "Why don't you love me?". I need to find a happy balance, which is turning out much harder than I could have thought it would be. But I suppose that's what life is, trying to find balance.

Life in general is alright for me. I'm sure everyone reaches a stage in their life when they feel completely neutral. I'm not exactly thrilled, but I'm not standing on a roof either. I love school and for the first time who knows when, I'm a consistent A/B student. If I were back in high school I think I would be running around shouting to the rooftops how well I'm doing. But for some reason its just not as exciting for me. I think part of it is due to the fact that my successes are usually countered by others telling me where my life is lacking. I got an A on a test, good stuff, but I left dirty dishes in the sink. I was complimented by my manager, great, but I'm not making good money. The more I think on it, the more I realize I'm simply rolling with the punches and perhaps that's what life is about. Taking everything in stride. That seems somehow distressing and empty to me. I've been spoiled; I've always had someone there telling me what a great job I've done. Which brings me to the question, what's the point of success if no one cares? That's something I suppose I'll have to figure out on my own. I need to stop being so reliant on others to gauge my success for me. I need to be happy with what I've done for the simple fact that I'm the one who did it, and that's reason alone to be proud. Until then I guess I'm going to keep floating through life, not quite independent but not quite dependent either.

Back to Christmas, though, I'm pretty excited about this year whether or not I'm there. Adam and I are doing the horribly cheesy couple thing and putting both our names on all the gifts. I'm pretty proud. This year the gifts have been thoughtful; we've put a lot of thinking into what we want to get people and why. It might be another part of growing up, but every year my Christmas list seems to grow shorter. This year I'd like a dog, a digital camera, and maybe a gift card to Barnes and Noble or the like. Or a complete tune-up on the Echo. I need my oil changed like there's no tomorrow. Chances are though, I'll be getting another art set. There's just some things about Christmas that never change.

Lots of rambling. Sometimes a good rambling is all one needs.

Are you there God? Megan here. Long time no talk, homeslice.

Time for a serious discussion.

Please, God, for the sake of my sanity and my grades, give me a longer right ring finger. The cigarette hold is apparently a big no-no when it comes syringe handling. While its clear to my instructor that I have indeed been practicing my ring finger still isn't long enough. Short of undergoing a stretching out type surgery there is not much I can do.

I can't pull back a 3cc plunger all the way because my finger won't reach. At this rate, I'll be doomed if I ever have to handle something larger.

I need long pianist fingers. Not stubby sausages.

Much 'preciated.

P.S. Can you make my Facebook stalker leave me alone? He creeps me out.

Gorgeous

Oh little queen,
someone's pampered darling.
You've fallen so low now
in your dingy metal cavern,
the plebes crying around you.
Kneading with your empty paws,
killing with glances of lazuli eyes.

Bud

Your tiny nails like black crescents,
laid so perfectly in my palm.
I held them there to feel the press
of dagger points against my flesh.
A skinny wastrel,
I played across your sides
with my cold metal drum.

Breathe in.
Breathe out.

Skin covered your ribs.
Your hips are stilts
that hold your frame together
with depraved tendons that shake.

Keep breathing.
I can hear the rhythm of the lake.
Flushed birds that try to hide from your eyes;
you did a job, you were a tool
to the one who left you alone with cornhusk shells.

Your veins are good.
I can find your pulse.
25.7 kilos is not enough, you move with the wind.
You eat my words and they're all I give.
I'm not the one to take you home tonight,
to provide you with a place to rest.