This is where I am

Hello universe. December ninth has just begun and the snow is falling in sheets outside my window. It's dark but the sky is pink from the city lights trapped under the clouds.

Here I am sitting in my yellow bedroom, my own personal "heroin den." My bed is made up of two quilts made from scraps circa 1950-something and two comforters that weigh my body down at night. The more blankets, the better I sleep. I think the pressure relaxes me. I am drinking cold peppermint tea and my book of Canadian poetry is begging me to read it, ashamed that I ignored it all day with an exam on Sunday. Hanging from the ceiling are my dried roses, and a lush red one painted by Dali is just to the right. The Beatles, dancing girls, eight foot brides, Matt and Kim's bloody hands, Amanda Palmer's corpse, a sexy mime and my Nana on her wedding day are part of this gallery I have created. My half bottle of whiskey is teasing me across the room and directly beside it, a picture of my kids reminds me I have to get up before the sun to see them in the morning. But right now, I love this space. It reminds me that my coming of age is finished, thank god. This is me. Butterflies, pencil sketches, a Curious George pillow and a comforter of great pink elephants. I wish I could show you the gargoyle candle holder I made in the twelfth grade and the picture of my sister and I with the Easter bunny when we were four and three.

I love this room. Sometimes it's for me, sometimes it's for more, but not tonight. Tonight it's all for me.

The snow is turning into rain and my tea is gone. Bed time kids.

Love.

I just wanted to tell you...

I want to write but I don't know what to say. I want to talk about money and the future and dreams but I feel like that's all I ever talk about. These three things are tied together and one cannot live without the other. This triangle makes me sadder than I can ever say.

I want to talk to someone about how Christmas annoys me, how I wish people behaved the way they do in December all year long but I feel as though it would be a rant and I don't want to go to an angry place. I love Christmas, I love giving presents but I dread January when the world forgets that it's really all in love.

I want to tell you how deeply I believe in love and how rare I think it is. I want to tell you how much I hate it and how I'll be fine if I'm on my own for the rest of my life. I am all I need and the freedom that comes with this is an exciting alternative. The real truth is that I'm far too young to worry about such things. The real truth is that it's nice to be wanted. The real truth is a tiny silly and stupid part of me wants to be okay with being totally independent and thinks I should start prepping now. Just in case.

I want to tell you that I have no money, that I decided not to take a loan out this semester and today I paid off the rest of it on my own, with no help. I am happier than I was when I had more money than I needed for bills and a new dress. I want to tell you how grown up I feel today. I am dead broke poor and totally content with myself.

I'm going to share something my friend shared with me. "Hell is other people." This is true, but today I have decided that heaven is too.

Things are good here in limbo where we work to get by. I officially registered for my last three university classes today. Graduation in April. And then all the adventure I can or can't handle. Finally.

Much love