Gethsemane

Fortune

2011-12-04T00:44:00.000-08:00

What is fortune? I don't believe there is one set definition. It is a very open ended, ever changing thing that is unique to everyone who encounters it.

Whatever it is, I feel very strongly that I have it, at least for the moment. It doesn't feel fleeting though, for once. It feels lasting. It is a static thing, but durable. Of course I could be completely wrong. I have been painfully incorrect enough times before, even when I was certain beyond a doubt something was there to stay.

I thought my previous circumstances were such a happy accident of time and place. I believed it a miracle. Then it turned inside out and transformed into something one hundred percent inconceivable to me. I was humbled in a way I didn't think possible. That humility turned out to be a blessing the likes of which I can never see myself a worthy recipient…but here I am. An earthquake, tsunami, a surgery, and a very naive young man came together in a curious sequence to bring me to where I am, and perhaps more importantly, who I am.

Peaceful, happy, confident. I am loved. By a man who would lay his life down for me without a second's hesitation. I cherish his life more than my own. I feel like the richest woman in the world, though I have nary much money to my name. My days of buying Tiffany's on a whim are at the very least on pause.

Just to know I can own my identity without apology is more than enough. The people who love me and truly know me; technical details notwithstanding…those are the kindred souls I will continue to cherish for years to come. First among them, always and forever, is my Siri. Not the iPhone. My Siri came first ;)

Moving On

2011-10-30T15:32:00.000-07:00

Going to Guam was amazing for me in so many ways, but nonetheless I am very happy to be moving on to bigger and better things. For anyone who dances in Guam and enjoys what they do I have no judgement, I only know what it was for me.

In many ways it was very freeing. No one judged me for nude modeling, obviously not for dancing, or for anything else. But in opposite ways, it was just as judgmental and controlling of an environment. I went from one extreme to another. I was judged for having a boyfriend, and for having faith in him. Even though I was wrong about him, it was no one's business to tell me I was wrong. Even with friends I have known for years, they never presumed to make me feel like I shouldn't be with someone. It was a world in which anything but wanting to be a dancer in Guam for as long as possible was condemned.

There are many people I met during my time there that I still care about, but ultimately my desire to move on caused a gap that could not be bridged. The drinking, asshole customers, the cattiness...I freely admit that I just couldn't take it anymore. It's just not for me. All I really wanted was to be with someone who loved me as much as I loved them, and to build a life I could be proud of.

When I was devastated beyond my comprehension, I met someone against all odds. And when I realized I was using him and his love to replace the gaping hole in my life, I called things off. I didn't want it to be that way. I wanted it to be genuine, but I was still hurting too badly. After giving myself some time to heal, we reconnected. Much to my surprise and happiness, I felt something real. All the pain and heartbreak I experienced on Guam was worth it just to meet him. He loves me as much as it's possible for one human to love another, which is an absolute miracle to me. He put up with my brattiness and other less savory qualities, and in accepting me through all of it made me realize what capacity I do have. I am truly excited and happy to be starting the next chapter of my life with him.

Clearing the Air

2011-10-02T09:49:00.000-07:00

Earlier this year I an acquaintance of mine was interested in coming out to Guam to work at the club I have been working at for the past 9 months. She hesitated and eventually decided not to come out, saying that she was uncomfortable with how touchy the clubs are in Guam. About 2 months ago I received a message from her saying she had decided to come out after all. She said that she had not come out because of a boyfriend at the time. She told me that she put off many things in her life for whatever guy she was dating at the time and that she was ready to make decisions for herself and just do it.

I didn't know her very well before she came out, but I vouched for her to the owner of the club and even gave her a free apartment to stay in. These things are favors no doubt, but even more so within context. My boss is an incredibly picky man who does not, under any circumstances, bring out a new dancer knocking thirty, on contract who hasn't worked for him previously or wasn't recommended by a dancer at the club. I vouched for her, judging the little I knew of her to be respectable and hard working. We messaged back and forth quite a bit before she came out, and from our conversations I was given the impression she was here to take work seriously, not to flooze around for guys. In her own words she made this sentiment to me.

I have no problem with people being promiscuous or falling recklessly in lust with numerous people. We are adults and have free will. I do, however, have a problem with people who claim to have a steadfast intention while their actions contradict such motives completely.

So she came out here, and under contract dancers must live in "dancer housing" for the first month they are here. I took my friend to dancer housing, and the very next day she was complaining of bugs in the house and cold showers. She emailed our boss claiming extreme anxiety and begging if she could move in with me right away. He conceded, and I was all too happy to have her live with me. For the past few months I have been living in a friend of mine's apartment who is in the Navy and is currently deployed. I haven't been paying him rent, but I have been paying utilities to help out. Despite this, I never asked the girl to help out. I figured since she was here to take work seriously I would help her out. I even moved out of the master bedroom where I had been staying so that she could take that room and be more comfortable. Guam can be a bit of a culture shock, and starting at any new strip club is stressful. I even slept on the couch for a few days because another dancer friend of mine was staying at my apartment in the other bedroom.

I gave her rides to and from work when she needed them and tried my best to help her acclimate and get to know her a little better. I'm a pretty quiet, laid back person, and she is even more so, so conversation was stilted at best. I figured I gave her a good start with a job and a free place, and that a woman almost thirty could take care of herself. All she could ever talk about was her best friend back home whom she was involved with in some complicated way, but she seemed happy enough.

A few short weeks after she was working at the club she met a guy that she decided to no show, no call to work on a Saturday in order to hang out with. This was irritating enough to me given that I had vouched for her. She was being irresponsible, but she was also making me look bad. I didn't see her all the next day until right before work as I was stepping naked out of the shower, I see her and the guy walking into her bedroom. I was startled at seeing some guy in my apartment with no warning, so I said something about as I was standing there, awkwardly naked. Her response was that he was not some random guy because he had bought me one drink before. I said that if I was ok with any guy in my house that had ever bought me a shot, there would be hundreds of guys in my house at any given moment, at which point they shut the bedroom door and she didn't leave until it was time to go to work.

Even if she had been paying me rent, I would have expected some warning that she was having someone over. I like to feel safe and comfortable in my home. Given that I was not asking for rent, and in fact had gotten her out of paying rent to our boss, I expect that simple courtesy. When she moved in with me my boss told me to make sure she paid me at least as much rent as she would have been paying him, which is about $400 a month. I lied and told him I would, but of course did not. Again, I wanted to help her. I had been planning to leave the island for vacation, if not for good, in October some time, I told her this prior to her coming out, and told her I could give her an apartment up until the time that I left. She was well aware I wouldn't be staying. In fact, I had wanted to go home in August, but stayed in Guam a couple more months so I could help her adjust and get started at the club. My friend whose apartment I was staying in invited me into his home, and expressly told me to take my friend(s) who were living there with me as well, with me whenever I left. His apartment was not a free-for-all dancer housing, he was my friend who allowed me to live at his place.

When I first moved into the apartment, it was with another dancer friend of mine who needed help. We were very close friends at a point, but it went downhill when she started ditching me for any guy who gave her a second glance. I felt very hurt and taken advantage of by my friend. Before too long these two "friends" had ganged up on me, and were using me in the exact same ways.

The night after the girl had brought a guy into the apartment without asking, I sent her a message telling her she owed me the $400 in rent she would have been paying our boss since she violated her contract and disrespected me in my home.

I received the following message in response:

I have no problem paying Ed rent, and I will make arrangements with him when he comes home & I meet him. He will be who I will or won't be living with since you are leaving & getting married.

And just so we're clear, YOU were in the wrong & owe me an apology.

Erin, I never knew when I moved out here that you were such a bad person. Then you did nothing but talk shit about your "friends" that you moved in here while smiling in their face & buying them Tiffany's earrings. I honestly don't know how you live with yourself & the kind of person you are.

You were RUDE to my friend. In the real world, Erin, when two adults live together as roommates, they are both allowed to have company over without asking permission. You invited Angela out here for an entire month, you had Allen over the other day. I didn't know exactly when Allen was coming over. When you have roommates, who have friends, it's common sense that someone might see you naked if you're showering with the door open. If I was doing that, and you had someone over that I took by surprise, I would never in a million years be rude to your friend like that. Who does things like that? What is WRONG with you?

You owe me a serious apology, and you owe Patrick one too. Your behavior was disgusting and embarrassing.

That guy was not a "stranger." He was my friend that means a lot to me, who I've been talking about non-stop for two weeks straight, and who has helped me through all this shit I'm going through that you could care less about.

I don't know who told you that you are better than everyone else, but you're not. All you do is alienate yourself from everyone by judging them, talking shit about them, and playing passive-aggressive mind games.

That you would demand rent for a place that's not even yours that you fucked some guy to stay in just because I had a friend over unexpectedly.. wow. That takes the cake. At least it's good material for my book.

--

Allen is a friend, not someone I'm dating, whom I had paid a massage for. He is licensed massage therapist, and that is the only reason he was over. Angela was also a very good friend of hers at one point. She acted like she was entitled to a free apartment from my friend who she had never met...I could not believe it. And in fact I had paid him hundreds of dollars in utilities.

I responded that she would be out of my apartment the next day before I woke up, and she was. It hurt, but not as much as if we had been close. I think what hurt the most is that my former friend got to her and used her to hurt me.

I am so happy I'm leaving this job and the kind of people that can no longer see humans as people, but as customers to be used and taken advantage of.

This is why I hate birthdays

2011-08-19T11:02:00.000-07:00

After my parents divorced my father fell into a deep depression that he couldn't seem to shake for a long time. Until he met my stepmother. I believe my stepmom is a wonderful person who has brought my father back to life, and I love her dearly. How he chose to be a dad for the last few years before I became an adult is none of her fault. It is, however, his. I have since forgiven him for it and accepted that it is in the past. What you can't change is best forgotten.

I think it was the combination of my absentee father and my mom working several jobs and going through college, along with her own emotional problems that caused my sister to become more of a mother to me. She is seven years older than me after all. When my dad got remarried my sister was in college and my brother was almost of high school and busy partying and getting into plenty of trouble. I was not. I needed parents and they were nowhere to be found.

I was always a quiet, passive person who avoided confrontation at all costs. My sister often acted as the messenger in our family. Whether it was between our parents or between me and our mom or dad, the task usually fell to my sister's ability and willingness to communicate. I think part of it was also that she felt responsible for me...she is the oldest, and unlike me never had an older sibling as her advocate. She wanted to provide me with at least a part of what she didn't have as a child. And she did a great job of it. I love my sister dearly and will always be grateful for her guidance.

So on my 18th birthday my sister and I were sitting at home with my dad, stepmom, and our Aunt J. It would have been an emotional birthday for me even if no one had said anything, but plenty was said. My childhood was truly over. My father had let it pass by and it could never be taken back. It was my last chance (and my sister's) to address the wrong I (we) felt had been done to me as the youngest, and apparently as the forgotten baggage from a failed marriage that was in the way of my father's new one.

My sister started the confrontation. I don't remember the words, but I remember the sentiment. My father didn't own any of it, and played it off as best he could. I am not a cryer. Well, I am, but under pain of my extreme shame and embarrassment does anyone else ever see it. I absolutely had no control over it. I couldn't stop crying. In front of my dad, stepmom, sister, and Great Aunt.

I hope my next birthday doesn't suck, but at least I'm pretty sure it can't be any worse than that one.

My Dream Come True

2011-08-07T15:46:00.000-07:00

Didn't turn out to be my fairytale after all. Every single carefully laid plan for my life has fallen through, so I really should not have been so surprised, but I was. I was in deeper than ever before. I was completely convinced the universe was actually a good place that rewarded people for being the best you could possibly be to yourself and others. I can confidently say, however, that everything that has happened to me thus far has been a blessing in disguise. A man that would do everything in his power to charm me head over heels, convince me to move across the world for him and then dump me, leaving me on a remote Pacific island with no family or friends...is not the man I deserve.

He didn't realize who he was fucking with.

I have made a life for myself here. I have a place. I am needed and appreciated. I have a nice apartment, I just bought a nice SUV, I'm paying off my student loans, and can buy my Mom Tiffany's for her birthday. I'm traveling the world and experiencing life. I'm going to either join the Foreign Service or go back to nursing school when I'm done here in two years.

I'm living life for myself, and it feels amazing. I get lonely sometimes...but these days I can at least count on myself and myself alone. I haven't disappointed myself a single day since I've set foot on this island. I am hard working, reliable, self sufficient and seizing every opportunity I can find.

Photo is by me of my friend Hippie the day she taught me to surf for the first time.

Give Me Your Tired, Your Poor

2011-06-13T21:22:00.000-07:00

My father really believes he won't live to be an old man, and it seems to me he's surprised he's lived as long as he has. It's in the simple things that I see my time here being limited. I have to take an inhaler so much that I can't even paint my nails straight because my hands shake so badly. I say it without looking for pity or attention. I really just want to get as much out of this life as I can, and to do that I have to admit to and accept that I have less than perfect health, to say the least. While I'm in such an honest mood with myself...

Every day in America:

40,000 people miss school or work due to asthma.
30,000 people have an asthma attack.
5,000 people visit the emergency room due to asthma.
1,000 people are admitted to the hospital due to asthma.
11 people die from asthma.

I was told by a doctor many years ago that this would kill me if I didn't take care of it...and it's no one's fault but my own that as a child and young adult I didn't take advantage of having health insurance like I should have, and now it's far too big of a hassle for me to get insurance on my own. I guess what I'm trying to say through this is...I don't want to die young. I feel like I should be scared, but I'm not. Just angry at my body and my government for having no help available that's not outrageously expensive or difficult to obtain. I know there are so many more people in the U.S. with worse health problems than me and without health insurance, and that's even more angering. As much as I want children, there are so many reasons I shouldn't. I would never want to pass on asthma to them, and I would not want to raise them in a country that leaves their poor and sick without refuge.

On the statue of liberty it says "Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free"...only to force them into modernized indentured servitude in order to obtain health insurance.

The saddest part

2011-05-27T11:44:00.000-07:00

The worst thing is that you made me doubt myself. You made me distrust my intuition. I pondered your love in my heart for many nights before I fell head over heels. I believe you can't control who you fall for, but you can practice self preservation to a degree, and I maintained myself for a long time before I gave in completely.

And then the last thing I ever thought possible, and in the worst possible scenario of its occurrence... actually happened. Afterwards I couldn't trust myself to believe someone if they said the sky was blue.

I know myself better now. I've surprised myself with the confidence I have in what I believe. I still believe every moment we had. I believe that you really did love me...I believe we truly were and are soul mates. You have such serious, unacknowledged issues because of your family that you couldn't trust me, or yourself, in the end.

I remember looking into your eyes and seeing your soul. In that moment my soul looked back and knew it had found what was missing. No matter what you tried to say the reason was for leaving me, I know it, even if you can't admit it to yourself. True love is scary, especially when you've never experienced anything close.

A friend once told me that we have three soul mates in the world, and that's something that for whatever reason makes a lot of sense to me. Sometimes you meet the first one and stay together for the rest of your lives...other people are never able to make it work with anyone they meet. And that's where the choice comes in. Even when love is meant to be, circumstances aren't right and not everyone is strong enough to go through the obstacles to make it work.

For a while I didn't want to acknowledge any of this, because ultimately it's more painful to me. To know that we truly had something beautiful, something that I will never find with anyone else. Though I do believe there is someone else out there for me, it's different. It would have to be, just because no two souls are the same. It will be a different love, if and when it comes. As much as it hurts me to know this...I have to say it out loud. Because otherwise I will live the rest of my life constantly second guessing my judgement of people and of my own heart.

I will move on. I'm in love with life too much to give up hope. But what brings me some peace is that I know with great certainty that some day you will look back on this and know what you lost. I want you to feel the loss I have, and know that you were wrong. I want you to feel the stab of regret at losing my love. I don't care that we will never be together again, I just want you to learn something about yourself, and not deny what you know in your heart to be true.

Don't you dare forget me.

My Island

2011-05-19T10:53:00.000-07:00

I do not possess the island, it is more like it possesses me. For 7 months it consumed my thoughts and was never far from my mind. Guam, the land of my lover. Hated, envied, and coveted, there was nothing more I wanted than to get there.

I remember the first time I flew into Guam. It was around midnight. I could see the lights of downtown Tumon from the plane, but not much else. My heart was racing, I broke into a sweat and had to hold back tears of elation as I prepared myself for the moment I had been dreaming of for so long. I have never felt so alive as that first moment I stepped off the plane and the humid air engulfed me.

My feelings about Guam are complicated. I would never have been here if it weren't for the man who broke my heart. I was thoroughly, heedlessly in love. More so than I ever imagined I could be... and then my whole world came crashing down. Despite having so many memories of the island intertwined with those of my ex, I still love this place. I fell in love here, but not just with him. I am completely besotted with this island.

The ocean spray in the breeze, the sunlight washing over my skin, the sand beneath my feet...it all felt like home from the first moment.

My first night in Guam we stayed at the Hilton. There is a bar, the TreeBar, downstairs, right on the edge of the beach and the pools. There was a fire show, dance show and music. We slipped around the entertainment and I had my first swim in the Pacific Ocean. It felt like bath water, and was the saltiest, most delicious thing I had ever tasted, especially on my lover's lips. We held each other and let the ocean hold us in its warm embrace. I closed my eyes, felt that Pacific breeze, the light of torches dancing behind my eyelids and the primal drums and chants coming from the shore...in that moment my world was an enchanted dream. I will cherish that memory forever, though it hurts me every time I remember. "If I could hold time in a bottle" I would live in that moment forever.

My Decisions

2011-05-12T08:01:00.000-07:00

When I decided to move to Guam on very short notice for my boyfriend of a year, everyone in my life had mixed feelings about it. Most everyone was skeptical to some degree, including myself. When the supposed man of my dreams dumped me out of the blue two months ago and I decided to stay the responses were even more confused...

Here's how I feel. I can't live my life in a safe little bubble of everyone else's expectations and beliefs of what is acceptable. I can't ignore the fact that the most impulsive and risky decision of my life has led to me being financially and geographically independent for the first time in my life. I have my own apartment, and I pay my bills. Even beyond that, I am able to provide things for those I love that I never could have afforded to do 6 months ago.

I have been yearning to escape Ohio and the life defined for me by being there for so, so long. An opportunity presented itself, I took it, and I am incredibly grateful that I did so. Not everything in my life is perfect, but living on a beautiful tropical island certainly makes everything seem more worthwhile to me. People will try to fuck with you no matter where you go. It's a part of life, and how you respond to those kind of people defines your character and happiness.

I don't know when I'll be back in Ohio. Definitely not for any significant length of time. I get asked all the time when I will be back "home." Ohio has not been home to me since the moment I first stepped foot on this island on December 2, 2010. Home is wherever I feel alive, and at this time that place is Guam. All that anyone needs to know right now is that I love my life here, and I am doing more than surviving, I am living.

Never Again But I Don't Care

2011-04-30T09:54:00.000-07:00

I don't care that you hurt me so bad. I don't care that even if everything was perfectly in place, which is absolutely impossible, I could never, ever love you or trust you again. I just don't care that I'm hurting myself. I'm pushing the knife in deeper. But it's worth it to me because I'd rather feel pain than numbness. I'd rather bleed than feel this void. So take it all, you already have. Let's keep making bad decisions.

I've unraveled all the love and life I had for you...there's nothing left but broken glass. All that I can do now is step on it just to know I'm still alive.

So

2011-04-11T05:23:00.001-07:00

The love of my life just dumped me and I found out he's really an asshole.

Mind Trash

2011-04-10T15:30:00.001-07:00

Just a bunch of garbage spewing from my depressed, stressed, confused brain.

I feel like I'm permanently damaged. Forever broken. No one will want to keep me in their life for long. Because I'm not good enough. My last ex was right, even if I could get another man who treated me well he would eventually see me for the horrible person I am and leave me because I deserved it.

My biggest desire in life is to be a wife and mother. And it's never going to happen. Unless I get mail order groom or some contrived situation.

Get To Know Me

2011-04-09T08:30:00.001-07:00

Before you pass judgement. I know I can come off cold and snobbish when I'm in a situation I'm uncomfortable with. I promise you, I'm not. When I come off that way, the truth is I'm being ridiculously shy and anxious. People who are actually worth my time and take five minutes to talk to me and try to make me comfortable would find that out.

Though I love my mother dearly and would never wish to insult her...the fact remains that she was not a model of behavior for me in regards to self esteem and social anxiety. The door mat gene was definitively passed on to me from her.

Most people don't understand this about me and that really bothers me. It doesn't matter what you look like on the outside, you can still feel like total shit about yourself on the inside. When someone tells me I'm beautiful, I laugh inside. Sometimes on the outside too. I've thought about this quite a bit, and I think the only time I believe it when someone tells me that is if they're a girl, and even then only under certain circumstances. I'm sure there's some twisted psychological explanation about objectivity of women and men behind all that, but that's the truth.

The day a man looks me in the eyes and tells me I'm beautiful and I believe it is the day I'll know I've moved on. And I'm trying to. The last thing I want in my life is an absence of growth. To be stuck in this skin forever, that I hate so much.

Whatever complex I've developed over the years is surely a result of my upbringing, history of abuse which I will NOT go into on here, and being a social outcast all of my childhood. I don't mean to come off as "poor me" I'm trying to analyze this so I can move on and gain a scrap of true confidence.

I am 22 Years Old

2011-04-05T11:39:00.000-07:00

How can something that happened to me when I was 6 years old have such a hold on my life, even to this day?

I go in cycles of ups and downs, as I'm sure most people do. Sometimes it can be very dark. Life seems pointless. I know I have clinical depressive disorder, but nonetheless I try to identify possible triggers as a coping method.

I know I have no reason to complain, and in many ways I am so, so fortunate to have the job I do. But there are aspects of it that are very unhealthy for me.

The reason I was molested as a child are the same reasons I still have trouble standing up for myself. I have never done sexual favors for money, but sometimes dances go farther than I am comfortable with. When I was six, I allowed it to happen to me because I have always, always been so afraid of offending or displeasing anyone, for whatever reason. I have great difficulty just saying no and standing up for myself. I have the same flaw I did as a very small child. What's most frustrating to me is that in this way, I have not changed.

I need a break. I need to change. I need to find an inner strength to not let myself be pushed and taken advantage of.

And I feel like I can't talk to my boyfriend about this because he has such a ridiculously difficult, stressful job that he gets paid way too little for. I have no room to complain. I own this job, and I accept responsibility. But I don't want these dirty mens' hands on me. I just want him, and that's the only reason I am doing the job.

I live in paradise, and I need a vacation. And probably therapy.

When I Was a Little Girl

2011-03-24T10:54:00.000-07:00

I wanted to be a ballerina. At some point in time, when I heard about strippers and what they do, I said I wanted to grow up and be one. As a child I was very comfortable being naked. I ran around with a shirt off until I was ten, much to the exasperation of my mother. I was a free spirited tomboy who would come in the house from a day of playing shirtless, shoeless, and covered in dirt. I would spend hours playing in the raspberry bushes that lined the fence between the neighbor's yard and ours. I have dreamt of that particular spot of my childhood countless times. The neighbor whose yard the fence bordered had a granddaughter who lived a few towns over that would come and visit. She was a little older than me, and never let me forget it. It's hard to say exactly, but I believe we became friends around five years of age and I don't think we saw each other after seven years old or so.

For many years I was in denial about some things she did. At the time they occurred it was very traumatic to me, and caused me unbelievable guilt and shame. One day I broke down and told my mom, and I never played with my friend again. Looking back on it as an adult, it is obvious to me that my friend was being sexually abused by her father and/or her stepfather as well. I feel no pain for myself, after all, I escaped relatively unscathed. But I am filled with overwhelming sadness for my friend, for that little girl who had no choice. I have always wondered what came of her.

It's very possible that she became an exotic dancer like myself...but I hope not. Because I have pondered this for some time, and I feel that I became a dancer because of the dirty, free spirited child who ran around the yard with raspberry juice on her face and a hand carved wooden dagger in her hand. Because of the child in me who still yearns for uninhibited creativity, for a game, and let's face it fun. I think if she chose to be a stripper, it would be for the opposite reason. Because her inner child is gone.

Well, whatever has become of my childhood friend, there is no knowing, and my subconscious will continue to remind me of where I cannot return.

Modern Day Geisha or Just a Stripper?

2011-03-12T16:42:00.000-08:00

I have been dancing for over two months now in Guam at Club USA, and in that time I have learned a lot from my experiences that I did not expect.

Never have I been ashamed of dancing, but I didn't think I would find some pride in it. In Guam strip clubs most money is made by conversation. It is the art of seduction, fantasy, and entertainment at its finest. To me it is a clearly defined skill that improves with practice and consideration, but it is also an ever changing trait with a life of its own. For this I am grateful, because one of my greatest fears is the absence of growth and change.

I am not a prostitute, and 9 out of 10 times I talk to someone I have no inclination to lie about myself. When I'm working it is my job to present a fantasy, but I am still myself. A fantasy does not have to equal fake. I cannot abide deceiving people, even if its quite possible they deserve it.

So in summary I suppose I'm just trying to say that I am incredibly happy with my job and my life at the moment, and I feel incredibly fortunate to have these experiences. I could never have imagined myself where I am now...but I'm so glad I'm here.

I know a lot of people hold the opinion that stripping is demeaning to women and only those with some sort of dependency issue, whether drug, alcohol, or self esteem related, would choose this profession, but that is so far from the truth. I finally feel I am growing into myself. I have no doubts about where I am in life. I can't and won't do this forever, but right now it's exactly where I want to be.

The Path Home

2011-01-07T22:29:00.000-08:00

Tonight was a gallery show at the Collingwood that Angela and some other friends of ours had work exhibited in, and Angela asked me to go with her, especially since I'm leaving so suddenly on Sunday. We went out for margaritas beforehand with her and (her) Daddy. It was very relaxing and they were super yummy. I really enjoy Angela's company as well as that of her family, especially Daddy (I have permission to call him that :)). They're like a second family to me.

Afterwards we all went to the gallery show, where I saw a lot of photographer and model friends who I haven't seen in a long time. I'm really glad I got to see them all before I leave. Soon after getting there I was introduced to a man who has lived there since 1986 in the top most room of the Collingwood. The Collingwood Arts Center is an extremely old, historical building. It used to be a nunnery, so to speak, and ghosts of the nuns, among others, have made their presence known over the years. It is a beautiful old place that is rich with the wealth of its past. Anyhow, the very highest room, known as the tower, is a series of rooms that keep going up, and up, and up. The man (Pete? I'm so terrible with names) invited us to go up, all the way to the top, and take a look. Angela had never been up to the tower, though she has wanted to for years. I have seen it and often longed to explore it, but Angela has been going to the CAC for many more years than I. It was a true pleasure for her to experience it at last.

At the very top there are deep set windows in each of the four walls, looking down on the Old West End of Toledo. It was night time, and it was snowing heavily. I've never seen snow from up that high. It barely seemed to be falling...just floating in the world, beautiful and perfectly unique. Pete is a rather trippy kind of hippie dude, very cool, the type of person I wish I met more of. He wished me happiness, love, friendship, and peace. At the top of the tower I felt the presence of all, but especially peace.

I have been growing increasingly nervous about this upcoming move. Will the other girls try to sabotage me, will the girls I live with be total cunts, will the managers be cool, will I make money, etc, etc, etc.

At the top of the tower I told Angela I feel my trip has now been blessed. She agreed and said she really felt everything was going to be all right. It's going to be hard at times but...it will work out. Better than work out, it is my path. The path I have been searching for for a very long time.

I cannot begin to describe what it has cost me to finally find this path. A path that takes me home, no matter what side of the world I am on.

Warrior

2011-01-04T21:11:00.000-08:00

I know I've been posting much more than usual since I got back from my trip, but I have had a lot on my mind, and have been working very hard to find a way to achieve my new goals.

On a whim I looked up a job opportunity as a dancer in Guam. I received a response immediately, and am now flying out on Sunday. I will be there for at least 3 months to start, longer if I wish. I am so incredibly excited and nervous...I'm pretty sure I'm still in shock that this is actually happening, and fast. The answers to my prayers. To all the obstacles in my way.

With this I will be moved out of my parent's house, be financially independent, and be more than able to pay off my student loans, as well as save up money for a car, etc, for living in Guam for a couple years. I really am in shock.

At the same time, dancing for 8+ hours in a rowdy, busy strip club is going to be hard. Every night is a battle. With the other girls, the customers, the management, and most of all, yourself.

No matter what you're going through that day, you have to be able to walk into that club ready to have a good fucking time. When you're in the club you are not a real woman. You are always immaculate and perfectly beautiful. You never get PMS, never get your period, never fight with your boyfriend, never cry or get depressed. You are the escape for those who visit the club. I admire the fuck out of every dancer I meet, even if I don't like them. I try to, but a lot of dancers are, well, bitches. They really have to be to survive in the world of strip clubs.

I got some inspiration from a ridiculously campy movie today, but this quote rang true so much that I stopped to save it.

"You have to be a warrior, a soldier.
Fearless, uninhibited.
A stripper with a take-no-prisoners...
...raw survival instinct.
So please, for my sake, suck it up.
- It's a war out there.
- Fucking A, sister."

If you know what movie that's from, you get a cookie.

I know I'm going to have to work my ass off. At times it will be living hell, I'm sure of it. I am not unaware of the dark side of stripping. But if I try as hard as I possibly can and harder...the rewards will be beyond measure. And I am not talking about money.

Transcend

2011-01-02T14:48:00.000-08:00

I need out of here so badly. It's eating my soul. I have been in the trap of "if I just had this, or did this" I would be happy, my life complete.

This is different. I really was complete before. And there. With him. But not just because of him. I was a whole person. Now I'm...less.

The reason I can't be there yet is my fault. Well, not entirely but I take responsibility for what I can control. My heart was not in school. I tried so hard. In the end I chose more immediate happiness. It was that or lose myself entirely. I don't regret my choice, though it is the reason I am fucked at the moment. I have to pay a tidy sum back to my school. An amount that would have put me much closer to getting out of here.

What do I have to show for my sacrifices? Some pretty pictures? I have garnered much respect and admiration in a very specific niche...nothing more. What of the sacrifice? Stressing myself, working myself to the bone for art and a sell out perverted attempt at art.

In my fantasy land of modeling and art, I am in my element. I am a success.

It's the real world I can't survive. I know I'm not the only one to feel this way. In ways I am so far beyond many people my age...but's it's not enough for me. I want to be perfect.

I feel like I'm in a constant balancing act with my destiny. The universe knows my every thought and deed. My every intention. Nothing is left unpunished, and as I discovered recently, much to my surprise upon experiencing it for the first time; rewarded.

Now I am terrified of losing that reward if I'm not perfect.

It took me a while, but I've realized what's under my skin. I don't know how to be happy. Being lied to and treated like shit is such a natural state to me, especially by this point in a relationship, that I am freaking the fuck out because it has yet to happen. I am in uncharted, unfamiliar territory, and I don't like it. I don't know what to do with myself if I'm not playing nurse maid to every whim of some lunatic I'm dating. I'm dating a giver, and I'm not sure I know how to receive. I don't miss my old life, nothing could be further from the truth. I refuse to be abused ever again.

But the fact remains that as a result of my experiences, I do not know how to deal with someone who isn't doing these things to me. Every last ounce of my heart rejoices at his love. The kind of love I didn't know existed. The kind of love I had no hope for.

I am suspicious of it.

I have accepted it as real. It has not been easy, but it has been proven beyond doubt. I can TRUST him. Truly and completely.

But am I deserving? Can I possibly show him the kindness he has me? I know he has been hurt. But he has not lived my life. He has no idea the mercy his love has been. It is a soothing balm to my wounds. It has allowed me the room I need to heal myself. I understand no man or love can fix me or what I've been through. I have only myself to turn to for that. But he has created an encouraging environment for that happen.

A love that transcends 10,000 miles is the fuel for the radiance in my life. The joy of ordinary things becomes extraordinary because I know...he loves me.

There's someone I'm waiting for if it's a day, a month, a year

2010-12-23T17:25:00.000-08:00

I've lived in Ohio for 22 years. 20 days in Guam, and Ohio doesn't feel like home anymore. Or maybe it was the 20 days with him. Or both.

I have always had a strong wanderlust, but I thought for sure I would be homesick and miss my family and friends. At times I wished some people could be there with me to share the happiness I was feeling, but never did I wish to be back in Ohio. Not once.

Now that I'm back in Ohio, the thought of staying here, even for just another 6 months, is unbearable. I feel repressed. I feel half alive here. An idea occurred to me at some point during my total of 32 hours on a plane. I want to try my hand at being a flight attendant.

I barely get any hours at my job now, though it does pay decently. But working as a flight attendant I would get both more hours and pay.

I would get to travel, and get discounted or even free flights. If it were offered to me, I would move to Japan in an instant. I would be less than a 4 hour flight from Guam. If it's something I decide I want to do long term as a career, it would be no issue for me even once I move permanently to Guam.

So after Christmas I'm going to get my resume together and apply at all the airlines I can find. It's anywhere from 6-10 weeks of training, and then the sky's the limit.

Back to Nursing

2010-10-05T19:49:00.000-07:00

Since about May, I stopped working full time as a nurse aide to pursue modeling, and then, currently, school. I picked up a couple shifts this week at the nursing home now that things have settled into a routine with school and I'm doing less and less shooting. I didn't realize how much I missed it.

I love each and every one of my residents like my own family. One of my favorite residents died while I was on my hiatus from the nursing home. Another aide told me that she was in pain as she was declining and eventually passed away. That night after I got off work I sat in my car and cried. I felt guilty. Like I should have been there for her. I miss her.

There is no doubt in my mind that nursing is what I'm meant to do with my life. I couldn't imagine a better purpose to serve.

Sometimes it takes a twisted journey to find what it is you are meant to do for the rest of your life, and sometimes it's not always the same thing, and changes, but I wish for everyone to find something fulfilling and worthy for their lives as nursing is to me.

Every Day

2010-09-25T22:22:00.001-07:00

Is a God given miracle. Every day I am totally and completely humbled by the mercy He has shown me. Every day I wake up in a world where Evan is in my life...astonishes me. I had no idea, none. Someone out there saw me, saw my pain. And replaced my ashes with beauty beyond my imagining. Even as I see him, in flesh and blood, I don't believe he's real. I hadn't hope for one iota of the happiness he gives me. It was beyond my scope of joy, and still is. If I can work to give back some of the gift I have been given, if that is my only purpose in my life, I will die knowing that serving such a purpose is for such a good beyond that I could have possibly hoped for.

If I'm Losing Touch, Let Reality and I Never Hold Hands Again...

2010-08-21T00:57:00.000-07:00

My memories are my companion. I relive every kiss, every touch with renewed clarity each time...the times are now numbered into the thousands by now. I feel I'm losing touch with the real world. I've never been entirely in it, that is something I've always known, since a small child. I've always been one with my "head in the clouds". Always day dreaming. Fantasizing, plotting. As I get older, my ambitions for the real world grow ever broader. I have bigger and bigger plans for my life, and for those around me, and even for those I have never met, and never will. Yet even as my plans for the real world grow...the world of my imagination has surpassed it 100 fold. I live more and more for the sanctuary of my mind. As I go about my daily activities I am startled to find that I am not surprised to be speaking to...myself? But I am starting to believe I am not speaking to myself...not anymore. It is the imaginary companionship of a real person. I wonder if other persons in long distance relationships experience this. Or even widows or widowers... It could just be me, but somehow I doubt it. I caress...the air. I am comforted by empty nothingness. I make love to nothing. I laugh, I smile, I cry with a flimsy imagining of him. As real as my visions have become...I know they are a sad shadow of the real thing. This is what I ache for. May these 6 months speed quickly by.

Stability

2010-08-12T21:09:00.001-07:00

I think the one thing I desire, more than anything in the world, more than true love, more than beauty, success, or wealth, is stability.

The reason is simple. I was raised by the most instable mother possible. The only stable thing about her was her instability. My dad on the other hand, is the most stable person I know. He married, had children, and worked at his chosen profession faithfully and honestly all of his life. His work ethic is without fault. That is the one thing I have aspired to all of my life.

Unfortunately, because my dad was the stable one, that meant he was the one working and supporting his family. This left my mother to raise the children. I can't blame her. As much as I know I have issues because of my family...I am very blessed that I did not have hers. I won't begin to describe the horror that was her childhood. To do so would undermine her greatly. So I will leave it there.

However, that is the explanation of myself. A conundrum, a product of inherited and learned emotional failings from my mother, and the impeccable work ethic and standard which I witnessed from my father. Wanting one thing so badly...but terribly unequipped to achieve it.

This brings me to my greatest aspiration in life: stability. To me, stability means all other ends. Love, success, wealth. With stability, I could have everything I ever wanted...

If I were stable, my string of boyfriends would have treated me better..would have been loyal. Would have respected me.

If I were stable, I'd have a degree by now, and therefore a full time well paying job. Or I would still be in the Navy, and be set for life.

To top it all off, I'm a Libra. The scales. Constantly fighting for balance. For stability. When I'm off balance, I am OFF fucking balance.

Thus is my dissection of my life. This is what I'm fighting for every day. I keep going because I have the most precious gift of all, hope. I have hope that some day I can change my fate. Write my own story. Overcome the hand I was dealt. I've made a lot of progress in the last year...in other ways, I have failed. But every day, I try. I'll keep trying until I die. In the end, I have to believe that I will prove my history wrong. This is what I live for.

I know I am really fucking hard on myself. But I have to be. The day I become a complacent judge of my life, is the day I become her. It hurts me deeply to say that, for I love my mother. But it's the truth.

Can't Sleep Anymore

2010-07-30T02:33:00.001-07:00

I've had trouble sleeping my entire life...but now..it seems impossible. I am filled with such a mixture of emotions. Elation, excitement, trepidation, nervousness, impatience, shock, awe...the list goes on. Strangely enough, one of the few things I am not feeling is unease. Well, that's not entirely true. I feel somewhat uneasy that I'm not feeling uneasy about my current situation, as much of a paradox as that is.

The pieces of the puzzle have come together. If I didn't believe in fate before, I sure as hell do now.

Everything makes sense. I see my path clear as day. It's not an easy path, but the reward is beyond imagining. In fact, it's really fucking difficult. But it's so worth it. I have paid a very steep price for my choices in the past, but for once, it's actually worth it.

I can't eat.

I can't sleep.

Thoughts, constantly pacing.

My heart is racing.

My brain is on fire.

I see my path and I just keep reaching higher.

Work Hard and Be Kind

2010-07-19T23:02:00.000-07:00

Things are slipping from my control, yet again...I try and find a hold but I've ignored the signs for too long. There are some things that are infinitely better than they were in the past. I'm not losing control of my relationship, I haven't relinquished my sanity in order to be with someone who's horrible for me in every possible way, I'm not drinking, or doing any other kind of self destructive behavior...except for modeling.

I just want to create art. Provocative, meaningful, expressive photographs that will immortalize my spirit. So why has such an agenda cost me money beyond my means and crushed said spirit, in some ways?

I can't please everyone anymore. I can't even try.

I can't show up where you want me to be, I can't stay as long as you want me to, I just...can't be that happy social girl right now. I can show up to shoot, but on my terms, unless you're paying me good money.

Don't nudge me..don't push me. I will crack, I promise you that.

So it's rebuilding time for Erin. Be good to Erin time. I am thrilled beyond expression to get back to school, to drawing, and to languages.

I'm going to try my hardest to go by something said by a very successful person, whom I have admired for many years now.

"But if you work really hard and you're kind, amazing things will happen."

I Try

2010-07-06T23:52:00.001-07:00

I try to avoid thinking about it. I avoid things that I know will stir memories of it...particular songs, people, clothing. I hope that with time it will hurt less. I fear this will not be the case. I fear that with each passing year I will yearn more and more for what could have been..for what I failed at.

I want honor. I want to EARN that honor. I want to wear my badge of honor on my uniform as I proudly salute.

The military broke my heart like no boy ever could.

Every day I strive to fill my life up with accomplishments that I can look at and be proud of and know that I can respect myself for. But none of them compare to the one accomplishment I can never have.

Some part of me will never be separated from the Navy, despite what my DD 214 says. Though a shadow of my soul will always be at Great Lakes...the rest of me fights ferociously for some form of honor in the civilian world.

Ever since the Navy I have done my very best to live my life by this:
"I wish I were as good of a person as I used to be...I'm fighting every day to get that person back and forget the past."

Two part question! -I. What type of girls/guys are you typically attracted to? -- II. Same question, but not factoring in personality.

2010-05-21T12:07:00.001-07:00

I have always dated military men...literally ever since I can remember. Aside from that, creative, intelligent, interesting people who have morals. I've never actually dated a girl, but I'm attracted to the innocent sweetheart type. To answer the second part, as far as males go I like them to be taller than me, big arms and muscles :D And of course, pretty eyes. In females I like really girly pretty girls, generally smaller than me. Weird I know :P I think it has something to do with how I'm sub to men and dom to women.

Ask me anything

Sunshine of Your Love

2010-05-19T22:11:00.000-07:00

This photo very aptly describes my life and mindset at the moment. I am so overwhelmingly happy. I have wonderful, beautiful, talented friends that I have been so fortunate to meet and come to know. I have the sweetest, most loving boyfriend I could have possibly imagined. And life is good.

Photo by Eclectic Vision

LOVE this song

2010-05-05T19:47:00.000-07:00

Been there, done that, messed around
I'm having fun don't put me down,
I'll never let you sweep me off my feet,
I won't let you in again, the messages I've tried to send,
my informations just not going in,
burnin' bridges shore to shore, I'll break away from something more,
I'm not turned off to love until it's cheap,
been there, done that, messed around,
I'm having fun don't put me down,
I'll never let you sweep me off my feet,

Chorus:
This time baby I'll be bulletproof
This time baby I'll be bulletproof

I won't let you turn around,
and tell me now I'm much too proud,
to walk away from something when it's dead,
do do do your dirty words come out to play when you are hurt?,
there's certain things that should be left unsaid,
tick tick tick on the watch and life's too short for me to stop,
Oh baby, your time is running out,
I won't let you turn around,
and tell me now I'm much too proud,
All you do is fill me up with doubt,

Chorus:
This time baby I'll be bulletproof
This time baby I'll be bulletproof
This time baby I'll be bulletproof
This time baby I'll be bulletproof

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EUsbpmQ9-mc

Wish you were here

2010-05-03T18:59:00.000-07:00

I just had a weekend out of a fairytale. I've always said that joy is made sweeter by sorrow...I just learned that sorrow is made worse by joy. I didn't know I could be so happy. I almost wish I never knew it was possible.

What's left of me

2010-04-03T21:08:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I think maybe I'm just immoral. Maybe my problem is that I'm a bad person.

But then I remember what the past two years have been like, or even the past four. The countless times I've worn my heart on my sleeve and been disappointed. All of the people that have taken advantage of my naivete.

I remember being 19 and having my heart crushed...it seems decades ago. I've been hurt so many times since, I feel aged beyond my years. Drained. Emptied of love and hope. I don't know if I have anything to give anymore. I've burnt my lamp down to its last drop. Where do I get more to last the night?

For the past couple months I felt somewhat renewed. Some hope was shining through...so I trusted. I foolishly acted on that trust. I am not one ounce less the innocent, gullible girl I was two years ago, but I have been hurt so much more, and I have the wounds to show for it.

I am now used, and therefore disposable.

I want so badly for him to see me as I was then..the first time he laid eyes on me. So young and bright and beautiful. So confident and...full. Full of love ready to be poured out to the one who captured my heart.

I want so badly to be full again.

Clean like a new penny, I want to bleach away the filth of my mistakes.

Haha :)

2010-03-29T17:05:00.000-07:00

I yearn I thirst
to be a naked vindication
as I smile, laugh so sweetly
say thank you as I cut you
step ginger
I don't want your blood on my new heels

Rain, Rain

2010-03-16T00:22:00.000-07:00

Take a photograph,
It'll be the last,
Not a dollar or a crowd could ever keep me here,

I don't have a past
I just have a chance,
Not a family or honest plea remains to say,

Rain rain go away,
Come again another day,
All the world is waiting for the sun.

Is it you I want,
Or just the notion
Of a heart to wrap around so I can find my way around

Safe to say from here,
You're getting closer now,
We are never sad cause we are not allowed to be

Rain rain go away,
Come again another day,
All the world is waiting for the sun.

Rain rain go away,
Come again another day,
All the world is waiting for the sun.

To lie here under you,
Is all that I could ever do,
To lie here under you is all,
To lie here under you is all that i could ever do,
To lie here under you is all,

Rain rain go away,
Come again another day,
All the world is waiting for the sun.

Rain rain go away,
Come again another day,
All the world is waiting for the sun,
All the world is waiting for the sun,
All the world is waiting for the sun.

-Breaking Benjamin-

It's like we were two grains of sand plucked from the currents of the ocean and flung together for one moment. A chance encounter that neither of us yet know for what reason or what will become of it. However, I do know that it is a connection I can't ignore. If only it were the only such pull in my life.

My heart is constantly tugging me in opposite directions..I can never quite abandon one or the other. Part of me is still fully attached to my ex. Now that he has cancer, the urges I have to help him and heal him have returned in full persuasive force...But the other man...*sigh*

That says it right there. He is a man in every sense of the word; everything I am recognizes this. My body and mind remain captivated by our mutual attraction. I see in him that elusive combination of traits I thought was impossible in a man. Humble, but sexy, sweet, protective, intelligent, artistic, brave...I could go on all night. EDIT: He's a fucktard. Really.

I'm so exhausted by years of giving. Sacrificing so much for someone else. Can I just be loved? Not manipulated, lied to, used, or abused?

I ache to turn to you...but you're never there. I don't even know who you are.

I'm Certain

2010-03-06T21:12:00.000-08:00

I've been completely romantically unattached for over a month now, though I first attempted to sever myself from said attachment over an interminable, festering depressive sore of a year ago. Recently I have begun to feel the shade of lonliness slowly creeping up on me...my heart has started to ponder the idea of opening itself to affection, feeling, and perhaps even love again. What has me hesitant still is of course the fear of being hurt, but the scales have been tipping back and forth in my mind, weighing the risks versus my desire for companionship and love...until tonight. Seeing someone else held captive by their love..unable to control their feelings because of some boy they fell in love with. That stopped me cold in my mental tracks, as it was uncannily the picture of myself only a few months hence, miserable and desperate because I cared about someone.
Therefore, I have firmly decided I will use, I will enjoy, and I will be thoroughly honest with whomever I happen to be casually dating, but under no circumstances will I wear my heart on my sleeve. I will lie, I will play games, and I will turn the cold shoulder all for my self preservation. My heart will not be on my sleeve. Not even close. Locked away with the key thrown into the ocean.

With love comes uncertainty. Will I be happy tomorrow? Will I be bawling my eyes out because he lays all the blame at my door, while I meekly accept his judgement and beg forgiveness...I never want to let someone have that control over my happyness again. I can rely on God and myself to make me full; any other attachment is a risk, and one that must be calculated with due consideration and precision.

A Measure of Peace

2010-02-22T09:47:00.000-08:00

My heart still aches for the Navy. I am crushed every time I think of what could have been, and what I still yearn for. To know what it feels like to wear the uniform, to be SR Hulme, to salute my ensign with pride... and to be told I can never have that again...is heartbreaking. I am still fighting to make that dream a reality once again, and it is a long process that has been in the making since the day I got home. However, I am not pinning all my dreams on the glimmer of hope that someday I may be able to get back in.

I visited Lourdes for the first time today, and I fell in love on sight. It was the perfect day to see what will probably be a home to me for the next five years. A beautifully overcast, snowy day, stained glass windows, brick, and cathedral arches covered in snow. The campus makes me feel at peace. It's secluded, tucked away in a corner off of quiet Convent Boulevard. It feels like a sanctuary, like somewhere I could really focus and absorb myself in my studies. I think that even if my appeal to the Navy gets denied, I will find salvation here.

Some old, some new.

2009-12-06T01:16:00.000-08:00

OCT 30 2009 0907

2009-11-01T23:50:00.000-08:00

My division graduates in 2 hours...I'm so sad. I hadn't been too down about it lately, but today I can't help but think about the good things I missed out on. What is the purpose of me feeling such a strong desire to be a warrior when it's not meant to be for me? Or maybe it was, and I screwed it up. Maybe I was supposed to cover up how I was feeling and lie to the psychologist...it wouldn't be the first time being honest has brought me trouble.

Looking back at my experience with the Navy, however, I see many red flags...many things that reduced my chances of success. My bad luck at getting Josh for a recruiter being the biggest one. Even if I didn't get separated for depression and had stayed...what I learned from other girls in SEPs about the running PFA makes me doubt they wouldn't have found my asthma, or at least, I know I would've struggled with it and not passed anyways. Josh knew about my asthma, but he never told me how much harder on your breathing running in the gym is for the PFA.

The first week I was in boot camp I went to medical for a bad cold...the doctor listened to my lungs and heard me wheezing, and asked if I had ever had asthma. She knew. I have freaking asthma, and it was a childish dream for me to pretend that if I didn't think about it, it would go away and not affect me in the Navy.

Josh made no attempt to get me on a conditioning plan, nor even determine where I stood in my fitness at all. I talked to many recruits whose recruiters made personally sure they were working out several times a week. Sometimes my recruiter didn't even call me once a week. He was very nice and friendly in person, but otherwise I felt I was just a number to him. I felt pushed into taking the early ship date by my boyfriend, my dad, and my recruiter. Except for my recruiter, I don't blame them...I know they only wanted what was best for me. I knew I wasn't ready, mentally or physically. AT ALL. I had less then 30 days to prepare.

My recruiter was an hour late to the station the day I shipped, and he didn't even remember I was shipping that day. He made up my pre-PFA scores on the spot. I asked him several times before I had left, what I would need to know/do to prepare...he never mentioned 11 General Orders, Sailor's Creed, and Rank and Recognition in the 3 and a half weeks before I left. Then on my way out the door the day of he says "you know your general orders and sailor's creed right?" To which I respond, "my what?"

I feel like I never had a chance. When I see cammies, when I hear news about the war...my heart aches. I feel like I was born with a soldier's soul in an inadequate body...afflicted with asthma and chemical imbalances. I yearn for my NWU's like I'm missing my skin. Going through the daily motions of being a Sailor felt so right...even the unpleasant tasks, of which there are a plethora in boot camp.

So all that brings me back to where I came from, here in boring old Ohio...the very place I was trying to get out of...but my heart is with the Navy yet. I feel like the shell of myself came back, but the real me is still in training. Hell, the real me would be graduated by now and in A school. I would be with my dear friend Kim, and many more, in Great Lakes.

To clear up any confusion

2009-10-29T18:54:00.000-07:00

Lately some people have intimated, in so many words and gestures, that I have made a drastic change in personality and behavior from the person I was a couple years ago. In a bad way. Despite the fact that I would be quite upset if I were the exact same person I were 2 or more years ago, and have been unable to evolve in a perpetual state of being 19, I'm going to state some things for the record, for those who like to imagine what's going on in my life rather than actually ask me.

I am not working as a stripper, or even a model. I am an extremely hard working nurse aide at a nursing home in Swanton, thank you very much. How many people did YOU keep alive today?

I am having sex with ONE person and ONE person ONLY, my BOYFRIEND of a year and a half, and he is monogamous as well, and YES I know him well enough to know that is true. And if you must know, I hardly even sleep with him because he is an extremely hard working student, taking 20 credit hours, in the National Honor Society, AND working to support himself and his Dad, AND he is a disabled veteran of the United States Marine Corps. Thus we don't see each other much, between both our busy schedules.

I have NEVER done any illegal drug or substance of any kind. Period.

I haven't been drunk since before I left for boot camp. I am not a regular drinker at this time in my life. I don't have the money, the time, or the inclination to do so.

I have had some serious issues with depression in the past year or so, with moving out for the first time, financial issues, and being kicked out of the Navy for medical problems. I have just begun therapy and meds. So if I seem upset, well guess what, it's because I fucking am.

Most Romantic Song Ever

2009-08-26T21:12:00.000-07:00

In Spanish:

La Despedida

No hay mas cielo , no hay
No hay mas vida, no hay
No hay mas vida, no hay
No hay mas lluvia, no hay
No hay mas brisa, no hay
No hay mas risa, no hay
No hay mas llanto, no hay
No hay mas miedo, no hay
No hay mas canto, no hay

Llévame donde estés, llévame
Llévame donde estés, llévame
Cuando alguien se va, él que se queda
Sufre más
Cuando alguien se va, él que se queda
Sufre más

No hay mas viento, no hay
No hay mas hielo, no hay
No hay mas fuego, no hay
No hay mas vida, no hay
No hay mas vida, no hay
No hay mas rabia, no hay
No hay mas sueño, no hay

Llévame donde estés, llévame
Llévame donde estés, llévame
Cuando alguien se va, él que se queda
Sufre más
Cuando alguien se va, él que se queda
Sufre más...
Sufre más....

In English:

The Farewell

There is no more life, there is none
There is no more life, there is none
There is no more rain, there is none
There is no more breeze, there is none
There is no more laughter, there is none
There is no more crying, there is none
There is no more fear, there is none
There is no more song, there is none

Carry me to where you are, carry me.
Carry me to where you are, carry me
When someone leaves, he who stays
suffers more
When someone leaves, he who stays
suffers more

There is no more sky, there is none
There is no more wind, there is none
There is no more ice, there is none
There is no more fire, there is none
There is no more life, there is none
There is no more life, there is none
There is no more rage, there is none
There is no more dreaming, there is none

Carry me to where you are, carry me.
Carry me to where you are, carry me
When someone leaves, he who stays
suffers more...
When someone leaves, he who stays
suffers more...

Hulme Tradition

2009-08-24T20:32:00.001-07:00

Pictured here is Kenneth William Hulme, my Grandfather, with my Great Aunt Jeanette to the right and to the left Ethel Hulme, my Grandmother. I never met him, as he died when my father was 17. But I do know he proudly served in the United States Navy, as did many other Hulmes. The Hulme family came from Cheshire, England and settled in Charlevoix, Michigan where they based their shipping business out of. So really, the Hulmes have been sailors for literally hundreds of years. I couldn't be prouder to follow in their footsteps and carry on the family tradition.

New Navy Appropriate Hair!!! Must See!!

2009-08-22T22:06:00.000-07:00

Before and After are pretty obvious...(Mind you, I had my makeup and hair done by a seriously talented lady in the before. In the after I'm wearing no makeup but mascara.)

Come Walk In My Shoes

2009-08-16T19:43:00.000-07:00

"Ain't got no time for haters
Just live your life
No tellin' where it'll take ya
Just live your life
Got everybody watchin' what I do
Come walk in my shoes
And see the way I'm livin'
If you really want to
I'm livin' my life, my life
I will never lose
I'm livin' my life, my life And I'll never stop it............So live your life"
These words have compelled me, more than once in my life, to give me the motivation to do things that I was unsure of and afraid of my ability to go through with. These words gave me the courage to say fuck what everyone back in the hick town I grew up in thinks of me for modeling and anything else I choose to do with my life. I moved out. I chose to stay with the man I loved despite my family's disapproval. A few months down the road from that time, it was after listening to this song again that I said fuck the world and went to talk to the Navy recruiter the next day. I am now leaving for basic training in less than 2 weeks, despite being told all my life that this was something I would never be able to do because of health reasons. I saw fear hold my Mother back from doing things with her life for 20 years....I am afraid, but I am ready. I am able. I mean no disrespect, for I believe my mother to be the strongest and bravest woman that I know. The same year that my parents divorced she started nursing school. It took her 5 years, all while working and managing to pay the bills alone, and raising her children, but she is now a registered nurse, and I couldn't be prouder. But it has taken her a long time to realize her potential. I am seizing mine with a vengeance. God help anything or anyone that gets in my way.
God Bless and Much Love, Eden

Mission Statement

2009-08-10T00:10:00.000-07:00

I am hungry for life.

Each experience is a taste...

Modeling an artist's vision is inspiring.

Providing care for the most basic and necessary functions of life for another human being is humbling.

Learning a foreign language..learning a foreign alphabet, is demanding.

Pushing my body beyond its physical restrictions and running only on willpower is powerfully rewarding.

I cannot wait to claim the prize that is this new experience ahead of me! I am elated to begin uncovering another part of myself.

Cutest Nerdy Wigger Ever

2009-08-08T20:49:00.001-07:00

I'd so do him.

Leaving for Basic!!

2009-08-07T17:53:00.000-07:00

It's official, I'm leaving in less than a month for Navy basic training at the Great Lakes station in Chicago. I'll be leaving Toledo for Cleveland on September 1st, and from Cleveland I go to Chicago on the 2nd to begin training for 8 weeks. I'm super excited to finally make something of my life.

I'll be going in as an Interior Communicationman...which I won't bore you all with the details of. The only interesting thing of note about it is that I will get all the movies before they come out in theater, cool huh? After I've done that job for 2 years I'm allowed to put in a request to change my rating (my job). At that point I'm going to go for Arabic CTI (Cryptologic Technician Interpretative), which is really my dream job. I took Arabic for 2 years in college and continue to study it.

Modeling will have to be put on hold for a while...hopefully I will get stationed somewhere (California, PLEASE!) where modeling will be easy for me to do on the side.

During the time before I leave I'll be working part time at the nursing home, moving and getting my stuff packed away at my Mom's, and working out like a mad-woman to get ready for basic.

Wish me luck!

Love,

Eden

A Prayer

2009-08-02T01:27:00.000-07:00

I am:

an artist

a U.S. Navy Sailor

a model

overly self-loathing.

It is mainly these five things that have me still awake at 4:30 a.m. sipping a glass of wine and contemplating. I am many things, least of all the brief list I have compiled here, but what I'm truly pondering at the moment is; what am I, in my humblest moments, in God's eyes, on my knees, praying, in my Gethsemane? Whatever image God created me in, I hope, I wish, that someday I can honor it in some way.

Because right now I'm feeling very ugly. More on the inside than out, which is saying something considering my self esteem. I have much more shame than regret...which to me is indicative of my immaturity. How is it that I can methodically tear myself apart with the art of a mortician, but not build myself back up?

Pay no attention to the huge pile of fail that I have been creating for the past 20 years or so that has been my life. This blog is for me, for my soul and my mind, in an attempt to prove something to myself. If I am successful I will then take on the much more difficult task of proving it to someone else.