This is a classic example of Caroline needing to get the fuck over herself.

I should be doing homework.

Mid term project.
Sketchbook assignments.
ADCS readings. Time Arts readings.
Laundry.
Balancing my check-book.
Making myself dinner.
Cleaning my room.
Checking emails. Calling people back.

But what am I doing? Not a damn thing except for bitch like a self-pitying sap on Livejournal. Oh how the mighty have fallen.

I forgot to take my medication today, but I'm not going to kid myself in saying that THAT right there is my main problem. I'm not going to blame a pill for my apathy and laziness and lack of drive. I have no drive. I am lazy.

Even being a virulent depressive has sapped my artistic drive and creativity. I feel like my fingers aren't adjusting to movement commands today. They are too slow for their own good, for the good of typing a half-way articulate blog entry.

What is my problem? There are many factors. Maybe it's that sickening time of the month. Maybe it's the rain. Lack of a proper sleeping schedule. Not enough food. Too much coffee, or not enough. Maybe I an not interested in the assignments, but then again I find very little interesting or entertaining today.

I need to get angry or get motivated, and fast. I can't keep wasting Saturdays and Sundays when good work can be done and trudge into class with shame because I half-assed a project.

I need to stop putting off pleasure and get on with the hard work, the strain of motivation and action and completion. I need to quit opting for sleep or a god damn Starbucks run. I need to stop saying that I need to do something and then not do it! I need to produce better art. I need to take control of my vastly fluctuating self-esteem problems.

Maybe I need to stop expecting so much at the age of 18. Maybe today is just a bad day. This music is nice, my apple pie candle is nice. Some days are just bad days, Caroline, especially without the melodic ease of my medication to smooth over the stress. I need to stop DECIDING things. I'm so fatalistic. When is anything ever decided in just one day?

Work slow. Stop expecting so much, stop beating yourself up. Meditate. Sleep. Drink water. Eat good foods. Turn in homework, and make that homework good. Read those plans for motivation and completion and resolution.

I think that - for today, well, tonight at this point, where did the hours go? And the sun? - I just need to be okay with the fact that RIGHT NOW sucks, but not everything sucks. Some days are just bad days.

Slow steps can bring me to equilibrium again, because it was a big leap that got me feeling down in the first place. Just forgive those moments of weakness, alright?

Now that I've written this, I think I can get back to work.

Today I am sitting in my Basic Drawing class and doing what I do best; procrastinating. Even in class I can't get class work done. Should've known access to the internet and free reign to do what we please would be my undoing.

Regardless, I feel it is an appropriate time to share with the world/the interweb just how happy I've been in Portland.

Long story short, and because I have other thoughts threatening to run away if I don't type 'em down quick, I finally belong somewhere.

I've met incredible, lovely, brilliant fucking people and they stare at me like no one else has stared at me before; with understanding. Not confusion, amusement, revulsion, etc. But understanding and longing and interest. They don't think I'm a waste of time weirdo. They think I'm cool. And that's not a mistype. COOL. They think I'm kewl!

How grand is that?

These art students be perfectionists, animal lovers, hippies, intellectuals, coffee addicts, pencil snobs, paper obsessives and above all things (save for a few dullards) bohemians.

Teachers don't bitch at us for scribbling on our essays and the curriculum requires thought and anger and inspiration and honesty. High school was a fucking joke, you know that? Simple as that.

Portland is a rainy city and it's autumn leaves are show-offs. It's gorgeous here, and the air always smells clear and peppy; like it's up to something and it's damned giddy about it. You can walk anywhere and everywhere (no, that's not true. Treading over train tracks will garner you an ban from buses and trains) and when you get too tired from walking there's good food (organic!) and good coffee waiting for you.

Powell's City of Books is worth living here. PNCA is worth living here. The river and the cityscape are worth living here.

Goose Hollow Plaza - the apartment building I live in - isn't too shabby either. My roommate is cooler than cool. She's brilliant. A bit of a rogue in a social sense, but quick and sharp and willing to share expert advice at the drop of a pin. Can't ask for more than that. And she's made me into a bona fide Trekkie too. ;D

I rather enjoy apartment living actually. Independence is a golden thing for a recluse like myself... *peers darkly out a rain touched window*

FUCK AND ALL THE STARBUCKSSSZZZZ. There's actually a beautiful brewing establishment one block away from my humble abode. Yeah, when I saw that I came.

One thing I've noticed that makes me distraught though; all the art kids in my classes sketch more than me. My sketchin' skills are rusty as hell. I almost never draw for myself anymore.

These sketchers, they carry faithfully with them soft and worn leather journals that are immediately attacked with pencil and ink when free time allows. What do they write in there? Anything they want? What do they sketch?

Recent influences in my life have led me to see the folly of my ways. Though I do spend a significant amount of time daydreaming and thinking - it's probably what I'm best at, and it only seems to happen when I need to be focusing on important things - I don't articulate these thoughts on paper or present them through pen. I think it's time that I do such. If I am to ever become a profound, thought-provoking comic artist or illustrator, I will need profound concepts to share for provoking thoughts. The compulsive need to create is powerful and churning in my chest 24/7, but I hardly ever act on such impulses. Not in any constructive way, anyway. Mostly through poorly executed doodles or lame-ass one line poems. I need to create more.

A lot more. I could die any fucking day and I wouldn't have any decent shred or documentation lying around featuring my thinking. What a shame that would be.

One way to create as much as I desire would be to create more. Create time and create homework and create good grades. And create those quickly and effectively. Doing such would allow for extra art time and ME time. And god dammit I need to stop spending my ME time on goddamn Perez Hilton.com and fucking Facebook. Or watching TV.

Shit.

I have a leather journal sitting in my bed side table. It's damn nice, and I've been waiting for a good time to use it. Gentlemen, I believe that time is now.

Until then, I should maybe get back to work. I'm supposed to have my project done by next week, and procrastination already has a strong hold on my work flow as it is. Coffee time!

Hey folks. Hey mehself. I'm the only one here.

Haven't updated in awhile, and that's because I grew this thing - grows fastah than a Chia Pet I'd say - called a life. OH HO HOOOOO who knew Carol could get one of those things, eh? Well it's not cheap, I'll tell you that. Want to hear about it sometime?

Just stoppin by to say a few token words that mirror my recent sentiments.

I dislike strongly when one utters a statement - be it a proclamation, an examination, a denunciation, a lamentation, or even a question - and no matter how profound, personal or simple it is, such a response is as follows:

- Completely unrelated to the original speaker's words
- Completely self-serving and - in a narcissistic manner - spun around to be concerning anyone OTHER than the original speaker, and more commonly solely about the responder.
- Completely condescending.
- Completely ignored.

Now I like talking to people. I like seeing their eyes light up as you probe and question and urge them to share with you. I like how - the next time they see you - they like you because you cared enough to listen and ask and understand. No one loves ANY word in the world more than they love their own name. I like saying people's names, seeing them see me and open their mouths and find me to be absolutely charming because I allow them the rare opportunity to talk endlessly about themselves. And find that I genuinely care. I like having REAL connections with people, and to disregard my sub-human standards of coping with social anxiety of just chattering away about myself and trying to engage with people on superficial levels. I want them to know me because I know them and they know me to be real.

People don't care WHAT you say, so long as there's a question mark at the end of it.

That being said, is it so wrong to ask that - every once in awhile - I get to talk about ME?! Caroline Fucking O'Grady?! And that people will care, and not just listen and wait for their turn to speak?

I wish someone was in love with me. People really listen when they're in love with you. At least I think they do.

My parents love me unconditionally, and thank god for that. They ask and they truly care. My best friend loves me unconditionally, and thank god for THAT. She asks and truly cares.

Other than that, who the hell cares? And therapists don't count, because they're paid to listen and ask questions.

The moon has yet to rise into my vision of the sky, but the blue of night is extra green and bright, so I assume it's on it's way.

Just a few thoughts before I finish my homework for the night. Recently I've been looking to buy a new deck of Tarot cards, looking far and wide, simply because changes in life could possibly require changes in card decks. Or maybe I'm just tired of the old ones.

Still, one thing I've noticed throughout my search is that a majority of the deck covers feature none other than the Queen of Wands, the card I find the most familiar to myself.

Curiosity getting the better of me, I did a quick Google search and found notable information that I'd like to jot down for future reference.

The description is quite fitting for myself, which is both a grand and terrible thing.

The Queen of Wands expresses a creative energy. In decks where wands are fire, she has a fiery, passionate personality with a quick temper. Her style of mothering is to 'flash' her temper, yell, then get over it and hug -- all within one hour! She's self-confident and happy.

Inspiration. You need to feel inspired. Be a charismatic, self-assured person who knows how things must be done. Behave like royalty. Parties and other gatherings will benefit you. Find a creative project that fully occupies you. Inspire others.

The personality of the Queen of Wands combines the positive fire energy of the Wands suit with the inward focus of a Queen. Here's what she is like: The Queen of Wands is the one voted most popular in her class. She is always attractive and often good-looking in the classical sense. Her warm smile and easy-going manner bring her lots of friends and admirers. Her energy is contagious, and her enthusiasm, total. No matter what the task, she tackles it with whole-hearted dedication and commitment. Nothing gets her down. She is always up-beat and cheerful - ready to look for the positive in the situation. Her life is full and busy, and she prefers it that way. She loves to be going and doing. She keeps up this pace because she is radiantly healthy and fit. She is often a good athlete, being naturally strong and coordinated.

Although she's never arrogant, the Queen of Wands has a deep faith in her own abilities. Her quiet self-assurance comes from the knowledge that she can accomplish whatever she sets her mind to.

With Queens, the emphasis is on your inner state. The Queen of Wands is not a real, many-sided person, but she does express an ideal of a certain type. In readings, she asks you to think and feel as she does. For example: Do you feel attractive? Do you believe in yourself? Are you full of energy? Can you shake off the blues? Are you gung-ho about life? This Queen can also represent a man or woman who is like her, or an atmosphere of cheerful and confident enthusiasm. In a reading, she tells you that her special energy has meaning for you at this time. Let yourself be inspired by this Queen in whatever form she appears in your life.

Physical description - yellow, red hair, blue eyed woman. She runs a business or holds a responsible position. Personality traits - intelligent, dignified, prosperous woman, self-confidence, love of happiness. Offers help that you can trust. She offers inspiration. Fiery temperament. Lively, active, warm natured. Practical organiser of others. A lover of nature.

The Queen of Wands denotes sympathy and understanding to your situation. She is charming in her demeanour and practical in her approach of solving problems. She is a loving figure and worthy of her position.

However, when reversed, this card describes a situation in which someone is behaving in a manipulative, pushy or selfish way. One of you seems to be in a chronically bad mood, and is angry, resentful and jealous. You may find yourself being attacked or bullied, or behaving yourself this way. Perceptions are skewed and information is being twisted into lies. Someone is demanding, controlling, petty and narrow-minded.

These descriptions are apt represenations of myself. It's almost uncanny how true they are, minus that whole popularity deal. Like hell could my social anxiety allow me the vote of most popular! Ha ha, fuck highschool.

Regardless, that dark side is fitting as well. I have much to ponder, and I still can't see the moon.









Upon further thought; As a woman so self assured of herself, and egotistical, it is easy to be led astray. Turns out, I really really need to get kicked in the ass every now and again.

It's finally that time. Tomorrow, early in the morn with my bags and boxes stowed, I leave for Portland. I'm finally leaving my home behind.

I am so terrified and exhilarated and melancholy. I simply can't describe all the feelings that are racing through my chest and my head and my heart, much less take control of them. This sense of apprehension is palpable indeed, and yet the added benefit of going home after a rough patch of anxiety shall no longer be an option. I simply don't know how I'll fare on my own, and it's been so hard to leave my dear friends behind for the past few days. And god DAMN will it be hard to leave my baby brother and family as well. :<

God fucking knows what's ahead of me. What will become of my life.

The times they are a changin'!

But I shant forget all that I learned from home and from my friends here in Spokane WA and the nine years I've lived here.

Never apologize for your art or for how you feel.
There IS good in the world, and closer by than you think.
People always have a way of surprising you.
Procrastination is a damned curse!
A smile can make a helluva difference.
The shitty people in your life help you spot the good people.
The shitty TIMES help you appreciate the good ones.
You need to get kicked in the ass every once in awhile.
Friends are the family you can choose, and the family you can loose.
Phone calls are so much better than texts/IMs/etc.
Falling in love is damned easy but keeping love strong is a challenge.
In times of strife there is always a Beatles song to help you through it.
Moderation and balance are more vital to a happy life than you think.
YOU decide how you want to live your life, and YOU make it happen.
Laziness will come back to bite you.
There will ALWAYS be a shit time, but you can survive it.
The simplest of laughs and good times become the most precious.
Christina Mason Barlow is my bestest friend in teh world x3
Robert Downey Jr. is a sex machine, and Ed Whoreton sucks all the cock!
You need need NEED to do what makes you happy.

Anyhow, startling revelations aside, I have a few more boxes to pack.

I feel in many ways as though I already live in Portland, and yet it's so damn hard to say goodbye to wretched ol' Spokane and the people I love here. Thank god for social networking.

I decided that from now on I need to stop worrying/giving a fuck about whether or not people have stopped liking me... or if I'm not entertaining enough. Or whether or not I'm the flavor of the week. Or whether people have gotten bored with me.

Ya know why? Because none of these are my problems.

What I want to be is the confident, fiery girl whom people gravitate towards simply to bask in my glow of careful ego and pride. :3 I want to be exuberant and fun and flirty and simply... confident. If anything, I'd rather THEY worry about whether or not I like them. Not the other way around. But above all I want to be happy and aloof.

And through this happiness, I want to show the love and care for the friends that matter. To the friends who love and care for me back :3 Because I've found out the obnoxious way that if you spend a majority of your time with people you care about wondering why they care about you or if they have or ever will stop caring about you, chances are they will - indeed - stop caring about you. This is because such thoughts will drive you to bitterness or panic or a lack of ego that is ultimately very unappealing.

And I want to be appealing. Confidence is sexy. Fervent anxiety over the way I act/entertain in front of my loved ones is not. In fact, that's just annoying.

Why do I have this fear of abandonment? Surely it wasn't my parents divorce and dad leaving? I mean, I'm fairly certain none of that hurt me or anything... That's what my therapist and I concluded, anyway. Har har ;D

If people leave me, it's their problem, so long as I'm being as kind and confident and quirky as I can be :) As long as I'm happy.

Dear lord, my life.

It seems that all at once several romantic opportunities have flung themselves into my realm of possibility, and I have never felt more whimsical and willing to pursue such opportunities. I want love. Dear god I really do.

Small road bumps in mental stability aside, I can't believe I could ever give a fuck. Ha ha, this is Caroline caring. You could fall off a cliff into a pool of needles and gonorrhea and death and I wouldn't blink. Yesterday was Caroline trying to bring mental clarity and emotional fulfillment to her past with a maggot. Like trying to teach physics to a baby, why did I even try?

Letting go is freedom. Loosing all hope in failed pursuits is freedom.

Now, on my plate, I have delicacies of excitement and renewed hope and fresh adventures. Who knows how things shall turn out? I am proud to say that I am not afraid. I thought I would be, I thought I'd be scared shitless, and yet I am itchy to live in Portland and start over again. I am excited to bring my muses to life and find a new sort of love.

I have made an important change and I am not looking back.

Cryptic epiphanies aside, how about this Iranian protest business, hm? Makes me feel as though revolutionary spirit akin to Bohemian morality (but not exactly) is still alive in the world.

Be impressed, Livejournal followers, be VERY impressed. For I haz a new journal layout, and I am QUITE proud of it for all of it's minimal and cutesy glory.

NOW. Back to all that boring "blogging" stuff.

Today I saw the film "The Brothers Bloom", and seeing it reminded me that creative minds are still at work out there, and that my lazy graduate ways simply will not do. I most definitely need to start cracking down on all those creative projects still on hiatus. Regardless, it was a gorgeous, witty film that lost itself a bit to it's own whimsical plot line but still dazzled Christina Mason Barlow and I. As well as "The Brothers Bloom" I have also seen "The Hangover", "Up", "Star Trek", "Terminator", and many other movies. I've been getting out of the house a lot lately. Almost every day this week! Soaking up the last bits of Spokane that I can before I move to Portland.

Hm. Did I tell you, dear journal, that I'm moving to Portland? I'm sure I did. But it's "legit" now. An employee from PNCA called me today to fill me in on the latest updates considering my living situation. I shall be residing at the Goose Hollow Apartments when I move; hopefully with a bearable roommate.

I still have a shit load of work to do before this time.

And I have oodles of books to read and drawings to create and ideas to scribble down and write about. My chatty little muses have been QUITE excitable as of late. Maybe I should put them on paper?

It is impossibly freeing to know that, soon, Spokane children will not matter. Well, the important kids will matter, my family will matter, but all those annoyances? The kids who pissed me off, the kids who left me warn out and bitter, the kids who I still care about but have acquired lives of their own and shall move on; They'll go from contacts to memories, weekend plans to nostalgia, over time.

I am contented by this thought.

Right now I feel some insane resentment towards certain Spokane kids who don't matter. Sometimes I'd like to scream at a few people to make things better, to resolve my guilt or my rage. Portland shall have to be a suitable alternative to resolving my unfinished business here, and already I'm looking forward to it. Portland already feels like home. :3

PS: Visited the store "Lovers" today. I feel like a sick mo fo, but I honestly don't give a hoot. 8D

I must watch "True Blood" this summer. Dear god, every time I see one of those commercials or magazine ads I fall in love with vamps all over again! PLUS - Season one was practically all porn anyway! My favorite shiet ;D

WHERE the fuck is my vampire girlfriend, already? Or the bad guy vampire who's gonna kidnap me and turn my less than Hollywood life into a brilliant one?

*heavy sigh*

I recently took one of those silly-ass little Facebook quizzes used commonly as time wasters that may or may not have shed a breathtaking amount of light upon my issuez...

For the "What Mental Disorder Do You Have?" (I know I know, shuddup! xD) Quiz, I received:

You have Avoidant Personality Disorder. You are so obsessed with what people will think about you that you just avoid interacting with people altogether. You maybe have one or two close friends, and you are constantly asking them for approval. You want to be liked so bad that you come off as awkward and anxious in social interactions, which usually turns other people off..

It makes so much seeeeeeense D8