It’s Not Where You start…

It’s not where you start, it’s where you finish It’s not how you go, it’s how you land A hundred to one shot, you call him a clutz Can out run the favorite, all he needs is the guts Your final return will not diminish And you can be the cream of the crop It’s not where you start, it’s where you finish And you’re gonna finish on top If you start at the top, you’re certain to drop You’ve got to watch your timing, better begin by climbing Up, up, up the ladder If you’re going to last, you can’t make it fast, man Nobody starts a winner, give me a slow beginner Easy does it my friend, conserve your fine endurance Easy does it my friend, for that’s your life insurance While you are young, take it rung after rung after rung after rung after rung after rung after rung after rung It’s not where you start, it’s where you finish, It’s not how you go, it’s how you land A hundred to one shot, you call him a clutz Can out run the favorite, all he needs is the guts Your final return will not diminish And you can be the cream of the crop It’s not where you start, it’s where you finish And you’re gonna finish on top!


So there is something that I have kept just to myself for a few months now, mostly because I thought it was crazy. But now I’m wondering: is anything in life really crazy or so far-fetched? Some things are not.

Just before my birthday, I had a sort of a vision: that my last birthday really would be just that- my last. I’m not sure why and I don’t know if that will really happen.

Or how it would if it actually does.

What bothers me most is if this vision somehow becomes true, I will have accomplished nothing and left no impact on the world before I left it.

Dejection: An Ode

Late, late yestreen I saw the new Moon,
With the old Moon in her arms;
And I fear, I fear, my Master dear!
We shall have a deadly storm.
(Ballad of Sir Patrick Spence)

Well! If the Bard was weather-wise, who made
       The grand old ballad of Sir Patrick Spence,
       This night, so tranquil now, will not go hence
Unroused by winds, that ply a busier trade
Than those which mould yon cloud in lazy flakes,
Or the dull sobbing draft, that moans and rakes
Upon the strings of this Æolian lute,
                Which better far were mute.
         For lo! the New-moon winter-bright!
         And overspread with phantom light,
         (With swimming phantom light o’erspread
         But rimmed and circled by a silver thread)
I see the old Moon in her lap, foretelling
         The coming-on of rain and squally blast.
And oh! that even now the gust were swelling,
         And the slant night-shower driving loud and fast!
Those sounds which oft have raised me, whilst they awed,
                And sent my soul abroad,
Might now perhaps their wonted impulse give,
Might startle this dull pain, and make it move and live!
A grief without a pang, void, dark, and drear,
         A stifled, drowsy, unimpassioned grief,
         Which finds no natural outlet, no relief,
                In word, or sigh, or tear—
O Lady! in this wan and heartless mood,
To other thoughts by yonder throstle woo’d,
         All this long eve, so balmy and serene,
Have I been gazing on the western sky,
         And its peculiar tint of yellow green:
And still I gaze—and with how blank an eye!
And those thin clouds above, in flakes and bars,
That give away their motion to the stars;
Those stars, that glide behind them or between,
Now sparkling, now bedimmed, but always seen:
Yon crescent Moon, as fixed as if it grew
In its own cloudless, starless lake of blue;
I see them all so excellently fair,
I see, not feel, how beautiful they are!
                My genial spirits fail;
                And what can these avail
To lift the smothering weight from off my breast?
                It were a vain endeavour,
                Though I should gaze for ever
On that green light that lingers in the west:
I may not hope from outward forms to win
The passion and the life, whose fountains are within.
O Lady! we receive but what we give,
And in our life alone does Nature live:
Ours is her wedding garment, ours her shroud!
         And would we aught behold, of higher worth,
Than that inanimate cold world allowed
To the poor loveless ever-anxious crowd,
         Ah! from the soul itself must issue forth
A light, a glory, a fair luminous cloud
                Enveloping the Earth—
And from the soul itself must there be sent
         A sweet and potent voice, of its own birth,
Of all sweet sounds the life and element!
O pure of heart! thou need’st not ask of me
What this strong music in the soul may be!
What, and wherein it doth exist,
This light, this glory, this fair luminous mist,
This beautiful and beauty-making power.
         Joy, virtuous Lady! Joy that ne’er was given,
Save to the pure, and in their purest hour,
Life, and Life’s effluence, cloud at once and shower,
Joy, Lady! is the spirit and the power,
Which wedding Nature to us gives in dower
         A new Earth and new Heaven,
Undreamt of by the sensual and the proud—
Joy is the sweet voice, Joy the luminous cloud—
                We in ourselves rejoice!
And thence flows all that charms or ear or sight,
         All melodies the echoes of that voice,
All colours a suffusion from that light.
There was a time when, though my path was rough,
         This joy within me dallied with distress,
And all misfortunes were but as the stuff
         Whence Fancy made me dreams of happiness:
For hope grew round me, like the twining vine,
And fruits, and foliage, not my own, seemed mine.
But now afflictions bow me down to earth:
Nor care I that they rob me of my mirth;
                But oh! each visitation
Suspends what nature gave me at my birth,
         My shaping spirit of Imagination.
For not to think of what I needs must feel,
         But to be still and patient, all I can;
And haply by abstruse research to steal
         From my own nature all the natural man—
         This was my sole resource, my only plan:
Till that which suits a part infects the whole,
And now is almost grown the habit of my soul.
Hence, viper thoughts, that coil around my mind,
                Reality’s dark dream!
I turn from you, and listen to the wind,
         Which long has raved unnoticed. What a scream
Of agony by torture lengthened out
That lute sent forth! Thou Wind, that rav’st without,
         Bare crag, or mountain-tairn, or blasted tree,
Or pine-grove whither woodman never clomb,
Or lonely house, long held the witches’ home,
         Methinks were fitter instruments for thee,
Mad Lutanist! who in this month of showers,
Of dark-brown gardens, and of peeping flowers,
Mak’st Devils’ yule, with worse than wintry song,
The blossoms, buds, and timorous leaves among.
         Thou Actor, perfect in all tragic sounds!
Thou mighty Poet, e’en to frenzy bold!
                What tell’st thou now about?
                ‘Tis of the rushing of an host in rout,
         With groans, of trampled men, with smarting wounds—
At once they groan with pain, and shudder with the cold!
But hush! there is a pause of deepest silence!
         And all that noise, as of a rushing crowd,
With groans, and tremulous shudderings—all is over—
         It tells another tale, with sounds less deep and loud!
                A tale of less affright,
                And tempered with delight,
As Otway’s self had framed the tender lay,—
                ‘Tis of a little child
                Upon a lonesome wild,
Nor far from home, but she hath lost her way:
And now moans low in bitter grief and fear,
And now screams loud, and hopes to make her mother hear.
‘Tis midnight, but small thoughts have I of sleep:
Full seldom may my friend such vigils keep!
Visit her, gentle Sleep! with wings of healing,
         And may this storm be but a mountain-birth,
May all the stars hang bright above her dwelling,
         Silent as though they watched the sleeping Earth!
                With light heart may she rise,
                Gay fancy, cheerful eyes,
         Joy lift her spirit, joy attune her voice;
To her may all things live, from pole to pole,
Their life the eddying of her living soul!
         O simple spirit, guided from above,
Dear Lady! friend devoutest of my choice,
Thus mayest thou ever, evermore rejoice.


“But they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint.”

Isaiah 40:31

This scripture is helpful, since sometimes I do feel lonely and doubtful that I will ever meet someone I will truly want to commit to. I am reminded to continue to wait upon God for he is the one who will strengthen me and never leave me.

15 Things I Never Want To Deal With Again

Some of this applies to the workplace, others to general old real life:

1. I never want to have a boyfriend again who outweighs me by 100 pounds (sorry, I know that’s shallow, but it’s uncomfortable to have sex with someone that big.)

2. I never want to have a boyfriend again who outweighs me by 100 pounds but tells me I could afford to lose a few.

3. I never want to date anyone again who insults my intelligence.

4. I never want to date anyone again with the emotional maturity of a 15-year-old.

5. Never want to date a drunk again. (I’ve had my fair share of those.)

6. I never want to work with a group of extremely immature and unprofessional people again. (Though I doubt that will ever really happen.)

7. I never want to have a “friend” who calls me stupid and verbally berates me and then claims to still be a friend.

8. I never want to have a “boss” who wears a shirt that says “whore” on it. #TRASH #TrailerPark #TellsYouAllYouNeedtoKnowAboutHer #YourKidIsUglyAndWillBeTrashLikeU

9. I never want to have a “friend” who tells me all about the gay sex he’s had with 10 million different guys each week. #UGH #SeriouslyAreTheGuysYouDoBlind? #STDAlert  #UrNotGoodLooking #HowDoYouEVENGetLaidToBeginWith????

10. Don’t want to be around someone who acts one way to my face and then tweets crap about me (again, don’t completely expect that to happen.) #DoYouThinkICantSeeThat #YoureDumb #MayBeWeirdButYourFat #DontNeedUrOpinions

11. I really don’t ever want to work around perverts (or overgrown frat boys looking to bone the younger girls) again. #DONOTTOUCHMYSHOULDERS  #HandsOff  #SERIOUSLY #Gross

12.  I do not want to deal with excessive immaturity. #TalkingS**t

13. I don’t want to be hurt by people again (again, totally expecting I will somehow, some way). #Sucks

14. Dealing with idiots (again, no can do I’m sure) #SoTired

15. I don’t want to feel defeated again #SoIWon’t.


It always sucks to hear that your ex is getting married- and while you’re still nowhere near marriage or even living with anyone.

I know that my ex-boyfriend from college is getting married, and while I have not had romantic feelings of any kind for him in years (actually, I don’t really think of him any way, except with general indifference) it still is kind of painful to hear. I don’t know why that is.

This is the same guy after all, who broke up with me in a text message after nearly five years together. He also refused to even speak about moving to New York, where I grew up, and insisted that we live in his parent’s attic in Boston rather than actually on our own. So weird, right? But he did whatever his mother said to do- and he was not allowed to move out of state because mommy did not approve and wanted to have control over everything in his life, including who he dated/married.

It’s like that scene from “When Harry Met Sally” where Meg Ryan’s character gets a phone call that her ex is getting married. She did not want him, nor was she in love with him anymore, but at the same time that news was still painful to receive. I guess that is how it is with me.

I don’t want the guy. Haven’t for years. I’ve been with much better-looking guys in the years since we broke up and had much better lovers since then too… haha. Still, when I’m nowhere near getting married or dating anyone hearing that just seems like a minor blow.

In the past two years, I’ve kind of written off ever getting married or even being serious with someone again. I have some serious trust issues, especially with men. I haven’t met anyone I am even interested in. I dated my last ex boyfriend for nearly three years, and though I don’t think I was ever head over heels in love with him now, I did think that was going to be more serious. However, he like my other ex did not ever want to move on with his life- or maybe he just did not want to spend it with me.

I’ve always thought that there were things wrong with me. Like maybe I have some sort of personality disorder, or something that made me fail at relationships. Now I just think I’m sort of normal. Who doesn’t have issues in relationships? Every single woman in the world is looking for the same thing.

I’m just not sure I will find it ever.