Tag Archives: birthday angst

34: I think there’s a rule about this one

Let's be the quiet realization that our time has passed.

I want to do so many things, and it’s slowly occurring to me that I won’t have enough time. Lives are so short, especially when the minutes are squandered, or bled away from you so slowly you almost don’t notice.

It’s still so strange to me how quickly time passes. I was 28, like, last week. And now? Now I keep thinking I’m going to wake up 50 tomorrow.

Notice: My yearly birthday angst post is severely lacking in angst this year (yay?). Also I’m switching up the format, because bulleted-lists look stupid when they go on forever and ever.

We’re still in our little house, one block away from my previous living space. We have a car that I’m going to learn how to drive (it’s a manual), and I’ll have my license next spring (I know how to drive, I just never got a license). No cat, because the rental agreement says no pets, but we’ll get one someday when we’re in a more permanent living space.

Over the past year I fried my hair with too much bleach too many times, so I got a pixie cut. Growing out a pixie cut is already easier than growing out the underbits of an undercut,* and I’m pretty okay with it so far. At least it looks like it was on purpose, which is sort of the minimum for me to feel confident with any haircut. I’m planning to lay off the bleach a lot, do as little damage as possible, and try to grow it out to shoulder-length again,** since that always looked good on me. I’m also going to try to keep it ashy platinum, so we’ll see if any of that can happen at the same time (probably not but I’m looking forward to the challenge).

New music I found last year: Razed In Black (80’s-style goth from the 90’s), Scandroid (new retro waive/futuristic concept album from Klayton of Celldweller, also the remix album is good). Continuing to buy new albums from Aesthetic Perfection, Blue Stahli, Celldweller, Faderhead, and Marilyn Manson (shut up I don’t care I fell in love with the man when I was 14 and I still love him beyond all wisdom). I think all of them have new albums coming out this fall, which isn’t the best timing for my bank balance since they’re all together like that, but whatever, I’ll take what I can get.

Re: Online school, I sucked and failed and eventually clawed my way back up (sort of). I could make a lot of excuses for that, but since I’m mostly talking to myself here, I’ll skip it. (The Cliffs Notes version is I failed the first 3 courses I took, so I retook them but was limited to taking one at at time since I’d failed. By the time I’d finished retaking everything, my account was reviewed and based on my GPA I got kicked of financial aid. I’m paying for classes and books out of pocket for the next 2 terms, then I can apply for aid again as long as my GPA stays on track and I keep passing everything.) Also when I attended a webinar about career paths for accounting majors, I found out I didn’t actually need a degree to do the things I’d been planning on doing (bookkeeping, tax prep)—and apparently an associates in accounting is basically worthless, I’d need at least a bachelors to get anywhere.

My response? Fuck. That. I switched my program to IT starting this term (this term started 2 days ago). I’m now pursuing a bachelors in computer science with a software engineering focus. It will take longer, but I’m going to learn programming and one of the classes is about app development, and it’s already far more interesting than anything I learned in my (limited amount of) accounting classes.

Things to do this year:

  • Figure out where we’re going next, location-wise.
    • Travel to at least 1 place out of state, preferably a road trip.
  • Pass all courses I take in online school so I can get back on financial aid.
  • Find a consistent way to make money, even if it’s just a series of short-term jobs.
  • More tattoos (once I get more money).
  • Don’t fry all my hair off again and lose all progress. ;P
  • Write write write.

*Cutting the longer pieces but letting the short pieces grow is irritating when the “short pieces” are 3/4 of your hair and none of it blends with the upper layer at all.
**This has nothing very little to do with Atomic Blonde, which was very good.


33: Never Enough*

My perception of time is definitely damaged, unless that’s just a natural consequences of doing nothing except work, internet, repeat, without any sort of creative outlet to punctuate the cycle. (I’m hoping it’s the second thing.)


The list of things I wanted to have accomplished by this year (written last year):

  • Be elsewhere. <— moving into a different living space later today, still living in Montana which is not exactly what I want but the new living space is a definite improvement.
  • Get a different job. <— I quit my job.
    • Or make significant progress towards a certificate/degree that will qualify me for a different job. <— I enrolled in online school.
  • Figure out this writing thing. <— not. even. close.
  • Get moar tattoos. <— nope, but I pierced my other eyebrow (because symmetry).
  • Develop a sense of personal style. <— working on it.
  • Stop being so fucked-up all the time and accept that sometimes good things can happen to me and that’s okay, it’s not some kind of cosmic mistake that will have to balance itself out later a thousandfold. <— working on that also.

This past year I:

  • Nearly obliterated my hair. Blue, black, blue again, blue/purple/green with black underneath, mostly purple and blue, bleached to orange-yellow and gave up and put dark blue over it again, more bleach, sorta blondish, pale pink/coral and finally platinum. Lots of breakage, lots of deep conditioning, lots of protein treatments, lots of time on hair dye forums. (#girling #vanity)
  • Quit my toxic, stress-inducing job at the beginning of July, haven’t gotten a new one yet. I’m only starting to get anxious/desperate and worst case scenario, I know it’s easy to pick up a new job once you’re resigned to working in call center hell until you have a degree that you hope to god will result in a real job.
  • Enrolled in online school to pursue my associates degree in accounting. It was that or IT because those are the 2 career paths that seem to be the right combination of safe and interesting, accounting won out in a coin-flip I can justify in a number ways, but it was basically a coin-flip.
  • Writing. Very, very little writing, which I attribute—and I acknowledge this could be more stupid excuse than fact—to my toxic, stress-inducing job which was eating the majority of my braincycles on and off the clock. Since I’ve left, I at least feel more creative and more inclined to write, and this is a vast improvement over probably all of the previous year.
  • Discovered the following music: Blue Stahli, Celldweller, White Town.
    • Low volume of new artists but I am still buying new albums from artists I’m forever in love with (Aesthetic Perfection, Assemblage 23, Faderhead, Julien-K, Marilyn Manson (shut up), Orgy (also shut up), Solar Fake).
  • I am in a loving, mutually-supportive relationship with an amazing person who makes me want to be better than I am.

By this time next year, I want to:

  • Be elsewhere, more settled. Specifically, a more permanent living space with my significant other that we can turn into a home featuring our strange aesthetic preferences. Also kitties.
  • Learn to keep a reasonable boundary between my braincycles and my job because my braincycles are precious and jobs are just for money.
  • Still be working towards an accounting degree and not dropped out of online school again at all.
  • Write write write write write. :D
  • Moar tattoos.
  • Continue to cultivate personal style (because vanity).


*Title is an Aesthetic Perfection reference no one is going to get; I have been listening to that song on repeat for days.

32: “And where the fuck is my script again?”

pbf - birthday

This is what I think of on my birthday. Every goddamn time.

Notation one: I’m beginning to think my perception of time is severely damaged, unless it’s normal to have an entire year pass and be basically exactly where you were the previous year with nothing notable to show for it.

Is this what adulting feels like? Because this is not something I’m into.

Notation two: Current blog design is still working for me, it can stay for a while longer.


The list of things I wanted to have accomplished by this year (written last year):

  • Elsewhere/new living space. <— didn’t do that.
  • Different job. <— didn’t do that either.
  • Writing consistently. <— not even close.
  • EXIT Strategy. <— working on it, but due to the fact that other humans have free will and freedom of action, I may not need as dramatic/far-flung an exit as I once believed necessary.
  • Seekrit Writing Plan. <— working on that too.
  • MOAR tattoos. <— asagi koi.

This past year, I:

  • Maintained blue hair—with several brief ventures into multi-color combinations but still always including blue. Because fuckyes.
  • Kept my job. I’m okay most of the time; I often think about getting a degree or certification in something/anything but most of the time I am okay.
  • Writing. I still feel like this is a core part of who I am. I got my reminder wrist tat touched up. I want to pursue this/I will pursue this.
  • Began to realize that it is not so strange an event when someone is interested in me.
    • Am now slowly circling the idea that I am not fundamentally worthless and unlovable and useless except as a placeholder until the other person finds someone else.
  • Discovered the following music: Conetik, Grendel, Haujobb, Mesh, UnterArt, [x]-Rx.
    • I am extremely into Mesh, it is mopey in all the right ways. Also very recently enamored with Faderhead, which I technically discovered last year but didn’t get into until recently when I began putting all the albums I have from him on repeat for days.

By this time next year, I want to:

  • Be elsewhere (what the hell let’s leave it on the list it’s practically tradition at this point).
  • Get a different job. |OR| Make significant progress towards a certificate/degree that will qualify me for a different job.
  • Figure out this writing thing (because writing).
  • Get moar tattoos (always moar tattoos).
  • Develop a sense of personal style (because adulting?).
  • Stop being so fucked-up all the time and accept that sometimes good things can happen to me and that’s okay, it’s not some kind of cosmic mistake that will have to balance itself out later a thousandfold.

31: We Are Each the Unreliable Narrator Of Our Own Life Story

Notation One: Another pseudo-linear follow-up to the previous year’s Birthday Angst post. 30 wasn’t good or bad, it was just a series of people saying “You’re 30?! How do you like it?” and me verbally stumbling awkwardly the same way I used to when people asked me how I liked Montana after coming back.

Notation Two: New blog design. Or new-ish anyway; put together when I was supposed to be working on Project: Fail Better (v1.0). More thematically representative of my current aesthetic preferences, featuring grey and blue and jellyfish and it even looks halfway like a really real professional website (or at least slightly less like something I built on LJ five years ago).

Moving on.


For the rationale behind the yearly birthday angst posts, see one of my two previous birthday angst posts. I don’t think I can explain it any better now than I did the previous two times and attempting to do so would be a waste of time, pixels and braincycles.

The list of things I wanted to have accomplished by this year (written last year):

  • Be elsewhere. <— nope.
  • Get an office job. <— also nope.
  • Be writing consistently. <— not so much.
  • Seekrit Writing Plan: revise and follow. <— kind of… but Seekrit Writing Plan is seekrit.
  • Develop my sense of personal style. <— yeah not so much.
  • Have at least two more tattoos/pieces. <— just this one.

This past year, I:

  • Decided my hair is actually really blue. Because I like it and it makes me feel more like me.
  • Have yet to have a total breakdown and quit my job—fuck me I even got promoted.*
  • Have not really written anything of substance since I stopped taking my “break” from writing.
    • Am seriously questioning whether I’m a Real Writer™ or just another fucking fake writer.**
  • Found a second person who is interested in making out with me.***
  • Discovered the following music: Aesthetic Perfection, Covenant, Faderhead, Front Line Assembly, Solar Fake, Surgyn.

By this time next year, I want to:

  • Be elsewhere (or at least moved into a new living space that I can survive in through the winter).
  • Get a different job (because I hate this one and it’s destroying me).
  • Be writing consistently (I will continue to flail and fail at this forever because that is what you do when you want something: you continue to try even when it seems—and by all rights is—hopeless; and maybe you don’t ever succeed but you continue to try because the only other option is giving up).
  • Plan my EXIT Strategy.
  • Seekrit Writing Plan (yes I’m still on about that).
  • Get MOAR tattoos.

Aaand back to Seabound.


*I hate my job I hate my life blah blah blah.
**I guess if things get really desperate I could have a line tattooed through my functionally ironic write tattoo? Shit.
***Based on all available data my “type” is intelligent, arrogant and condescending; the smartest person in the room and knows it, with a tendency towards calculated self-deprecation that is endearing despite how transparently it’s played. I’m into a slightly less diplomatic/subtle version of myself, basically.

30: The First of the Years Of Which I’m Supposed To Be Afraid (For Cultural Reasons)

Notation One: This actually works as a pseudo-linear follow-up to last year’s Birthday Angst post, The Year In Which I Will Significantly Lower ALL MY STANDARDS, Based On Past Experience. Because you know what happens when you decide nothing good is for you and you give up on having good things?

Good things happen. As if to remind you that good things exist and you actually can occasionally have them. Unexpectedly and perfectly, as if to spite you. And then the good things go away.*

Notation Two: No new blog design this year. I’m not done using this one yet. Mostly because I still think tentacles are fucking adorable.

Moving on.


First, the rationale behind my Birthday Angst posts (condensed version): Some people view their birthday as a celebration of themselves and their life. I view my birthday as a reminder that I’m one year closer to death and what the fuck do I have to show for it? This puts all the things I would rather ignore uncomfortably into focus and I spend the entire day (if not also the week leading up to the day) mopey and insufferable.**

The list of things I wanted by this year (written last year):

  • Be enrolled in hair school. <— did not happen (and probably won’t happen)
  • Have a shitty job to pay the bills. <— done
  • Have some money saved up. <— making progress
  • Have written at least one thing I’d be sort of okay with letting another human-ish being read. <— nope!
  • Be following my Seekrit Writing Plan. <— not really
  • Not hate how my hair looks all the time. <— eh… getting there
  • Have a new tattoo (but I think I’ve got enough piercings… maybe). <— done

This past year, I:

  • Decided my hair is black. Technically blue is my favorite (and it’s still half-blue) but black has the advantage of passing in a Real Job™ (and you’ve no idea how much it pains me that that is a concern).
  • Got a job (have yet to have a total breakdown,**** although I’ve wanted to walk out numerous times).
  • Flailed at writing and decided to take a break, which has been going… pretty okay, actually. (I’m conflicted about this.)
  • Found someone who wants to make out with me.*****
  • Had dubstep brought to my attention. And of course I fucking love it.

By this time next year, I want to:

  • Be elsewhere, which is more specifically defined as “not-here,” which is further explained as “I hate this place and want out.” Also, reasons are involved.
  • Get an office job. Because I’ve never done that before. Data entry maybe. It sounds boring in a way that I wouldn’t be bored with, if that makes any sense?
  • Be writing consistently.
  • Seekrit Writing Plan: revise and follow.
  • Develop my sense of personal style.
  • Have at least two more tattoos/pieces (I stopped counting them as individual tattoos at some point?). I have the ideas, just need to get the appointments.

Aaand back to The Smiths.******


*I don’t see any divine cause-and-effect here. I am an atheist… but if I wasn’t, I’d have to conclude god is one sadistic motherfucker.
**Christ I’m fun at parties.***
***Seriously though: Never take me to parties. This is like a rule or something.
*****Have I mentioned I’m basically fourteen? Because I’m basically fourteen.
******Yes, I am actually moping and listening to The Smiths. Because “How Soon Is Now” is a beautiful sad song (also, see above: I’m basically fourteen).

29: The Year In Which I Will Significantly Lower ALL MY STANDARDS, Based On Past Experience

Before I get into this, I’d like to note the new blog design. New year, new blog design (my new year begins on my birthday because time is an arbitrary system of measure and because this way I get the known unpleasantries over with sooner; subtle differences).

Three things about the new design. Thing one: the header image is a couple of pics I took in Seattle in 2011, then edited to near-oblivion. Because that’s how I do it. Thing two: I have no idea what an “ouchy couch” is but I so want one. Thing three: tentacles are fucking adorable, I don’t care what anyone else has to say on the subject.

Moving on…


And it happens to be my first yearly birthday angst post on the New Blog. Is that confetti-worthy? No? Just me? Moving on.

I’ll start with the rationale behind these: Whenever I evaluate my life, I get all spirally-depressive about everything I haven’t accomplished and start mourning all that could have been and all that never will be.

This used to happen once on my birthday and once on New Year’s Day…

Until! I got the idea to condense it down to one day a year I’d be guaranteed to spend moping around, reading young adult romance novels and listening to The Cure (as you do) and be done with it—and apparently I’m such a raging egotist that choosing Not My Birthday for that dubious honor was never even considered. Clever, right?

Moving on.

The list of things I wanted by this year (written last year):

  • To be living in Not Montana
  • In a decent house
  • Have a (real) job
  • Have some money saved up
  • English degree finished
  • Have written a novel I don’t want to burn
  • At least one more tattoo and a couple new piercings

What I accomplished from that list:

  • Absolutely fuckall!
  • Okay, that’s a lie: I have four more piercings since that was written.
  • Everything else… not so much.

This past year, I:

  • Dyed my hair a lot of fun colors… but had to cut off all progress I’d made growing it out (due to chemical damage) and pick a “normal” color (no more bleach!).
  • Got a job… but had a breakdown and quit job.
  • Am enrolled in fall semester… but this isn’t what I want to do.
  • Wrote some stuff… but I hate it.
  • Came closer to accepting the fact that people are not for me.

By this time next year, I want to:

  • Be enrolled in hair school.
  • Have a shitty job to pay the bills.
  • Have some money saved up.
  • Have written at least one thing I’d be sort of okay with letting another human-ish being read.
  • Be following my Seekrit Writing Plan.
  • Not hate how my hair looks all the time.
  • Have a new tattoo (but I think I’ve got enough piercings… maybe).

Aaand, back to The Cure.*


*As something of a carryover from the Old Blog, I feel compelled to note that I’m not actually listening to The Cure (… yet). I’m listening to Gary Numan. Exile, specifically.