Strange as it may seem, this life is based on a true story." - Ashleigh Brilliant


name: shanna
age: 28
sign: scorpio
live: louisiana
The current mood of shanna at

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Wednesday, June 25, 2003

Sitting here at work, trying to get things done - but five supervisors, coming out of a meeting, happened to pause just outside of my cube and begin discussing the meeting. Not withstanding all of the other noise and distractions around me, try to imagine working with five people standing just outside of your cubicle debating loudly. Just a few more months away from getting my own office - with a DOOR. Gods, I can't fucking wait. Do you think they'd be miffed if I turned my radio up a little louder to drown them out right now? It's very tempting.

Yesterday evening was so dreary - it was overcast and raining. I lit some candles around my room and opened a cold Coors Light. That made it a bit more bearable. Sometimes it's a lovely time to relax, but I feel doing a dreary, overcast and rainy day there is nothing more pleasurable than cuddling in bed with someone you love. Talking, making out, laughing and you end up making love and falling asleep in each other's arms. The only light in the room is the gloomy gray light coming in the windows and the flickering, warm orange glow of a few candles you've lit. The only noise, besides your soft voices, is the rain hitting the roof and trickling down the drains outside. Maybe a low rumble of thunder in the distance offsets the scene now and again. Doesn't that sound idyllic?

Don't you have favorite scenes like that; just something you can conjure up in your mind that you find so comfortable and pleasing it relaxes you immediately just to ponder on it? The lying in bed on a bleak, rainy day with a lover is one of my favorites. Another is a candle-lit bubble bath, with wine and soft music (preferably classic jazz). That one I can imagine alone or with someone and still enjoy it as much.

- shanna bared her soul & griped a bit @ 7:28 AM

Tuesday, June 24, 2003

What a weekend it was! So damn mind-numbing and poignantly pathetic, I had to wait a day to write about it. If you're the kind of sick fuck who relishes reading the horror stories of having to spend a mini-vacation with one's wacky, slightly off-kilter family, so that you're own doesn't seem quite so fucked up - you're in for a treat. Remember - a day at the beach with you're family, isn't.

So I'd be lying if I said it was all god-awful. As always with my family, it was a perfect mixture of zany times, lots of alcohol, wanting to wring everyone's neck, good laughs, lots of alcohol and wishing I had been adopted. Did I mention lots of alcohol? It's not that we're raging alcoholics - but we're from Louisiana. Consuming large amounts of alcohol at any given time is as much a prerequisite in this state as knowing how to peel crawfish and having two kids before graduating high school. This is excepting my sister - who would rather eat paste than drink a beer and wouldn't touch a crawfish if she was offered the Lottery. I've always believed Mom and Dad snuck up North and adopted her secretly - she must be some sort of strange Yankee-alien.

But this isn't a story about Louisiana (there will be enough of those to follow, I'm sure). This is a story about Biloxi, Mississippi - and a not-so-well-known musician in my age group, Dan Fogelberg. My parents raised us on a healthy dose of good rock music - including "Dan" (anyone famous in my family that is especially revered is referred to by first name, as if they are distant friends). When I heard Dan was coming in concert to Beau Rivage, I excitedly called Mom and suggested we go. Now, a trip with me and Mom to see Dan and hang out on the beach all weekend would've been the coolest. Mom are much more best friends than mother-daughter. I should've known better.

See, my sister, Amber, has to be where Mom is. Which is okay - though Amb isn't into having a great time, she's an okay traveling companion. However, Amb can't go anywhere without Lance - her sex fiend of a boyfriend she doesn't trust to leave alone for two days. Everywhere that Amb goes, she drags Lance with her. Lance is not a good traveling companion. He is alternately hyper-A.D.D. boy and big, fucking asshole. It depends on the moment. Then there's Dad. Dad can't be left out - so he was joined in to our merry little troupe. Dad can be an okay traveling companion once you sate him with about six beers. Before that, he's over-stressing, ordering everyone around and making many mountains out of non-existant molehills. He is the reason that five people had to travel 2 hours in three cars. Three cars, you ask? Why? Let's not even go there.

So Amb and Lance went in her car, Dad drove Mom's car, and Mom and I were in my Miata. Which was a-okay with us. The best parts of the trip were driving there, sitting at the concert (we sat away from everyone else), and driving home. Dad had this strict way we had to go and follow one another - with him in front, me in the middle, and Amb and Lance behind. I don't know why - but it made sense in his head, and he hath spoken. About 20 minutes into that, Lance, ever the patient one, got fed up and sped off ahead of us. Dad got all pissed off and kept calling us on the cell. Hey, it was only noon and he'd just had two beers. Cut him some slack. A few more miles down the road, and a few more beers in the gut, and he relaxed.

Diasters abounded once we arrived and we were 2.4 seconds away from late to the concert - Lance was pissed off for no apparent reason and wanted to go back to the hotel and "fuck the concert". My sis, somehow, calmed him down. The concert, itself, was *great* (due to the fact, I'm sure, that Mom and I got to sit alone).

The rest of the weekend isn't worth mentioning - everyone got along in relative peace. Amb and Lance kept bickering b/c he kept checking out everything with tits everywhere we went. Dad stayed drunk and Mom treated him like he had the bubonic plague. All in all, much the same as it always is. I didn't sleep a wink since Dad's sleeping environment is akin to a meat locker, and he snores as if he's swallowed two diesel engines. Even a bed away and over a roaring a/c - I had to yell at him Saturday night to "turn over" because I was about to rip my ears from my head. It was a regular family vacation - in actuality, not as bad as most.

- shanna bared her soul & griped a bit @ 8:50 AM

Thursday, June 19, 2003

I feel love-struck today. And not in the way that I'm smitten with someone, or falling head-over-heels for a new crush. I mean struck as if I've been hit. Smack - love has a helluva backhand.

Just when I think I have that ellusive ideal of Love down, it metamorphoses into something else. Not that I think *anyone* will *ever* get down the definition of Love; but personally speaking. When I think I've figured out what Love is to me, in my mind and in my life, what I want from it and what I expect from it, what I think it is and how it effects me the whole thing goes topsy-turvey and I'm left more confused than when I began.

There are three main players in my Love drama; the Ex, the One I Can't Be With, and the One I Love But Know I'll Never Be Happy With.

The Ex is my ghost - I can't be rid of him. We have a deep bond and a stronger connection. He completely fucks my life up every time he comes around (which is sporadic at best - he's a wanderer). I'm not the same person around him; he must've cast some voodoo spell on me all those years ago. He's like a bad drug habit that I can't kick. I hate him as much as I love him; which hurts him. But how can you not hate someone that throws your life and mind into complete turmoil simply by their very presence?

The One I Can't Be With. What else is there to say? I'm always plagued by the fear that our fathomless love for the other is borne more of the fact of our circumstances than because we truly are soulmates. You always want what you can't have. But the truth is, since the second I first became accquainted with him, he mesmerized me; and I, him. Everything I'd dreamt up about my dream man when I was a little girl - it's him. I can't put into words the connection we share or the deep knowing in my heart that he is "the one". My Virgo Moon makes me over-analyze it all of the time, though. He is the one I would marry; and I don't even believe in marriage. He is the one I could spend the rest of my life; and can't. It's as simple as that. We keep up our disjointed and distant relationship extremely well under the circumstances; we always will. But he's the one I want above all others - and he is the one I can't have.

Now, the One I Love But Know I'll Never Be Happy With is my current tentative-boyfriend. I say tentative because we broke up this past February, but remained friends. In reality, it never really seemed that we parted ways other than the fact that once the title of boy/girl-friend was lifted, we got along splendidly. Lately, all of a sudden, there's been a shift and I think he's falling for me all over again. He's all sweet like he was when we first met - and I'm so happy, because I've always loved him. Not in love with him - but I love him. The thing is, I know that won't last - that initial bliss. I know that, in the end, we're not, never could be, really happy with each other. There are big differences. It's one of those cases where "love is not enough". It's the saddest thing I've ever had to deal with. Sadder than losing the Ex (which almost killed me), and sadder than not being able to be with the other (which kills me daily). It's sadder for the fact that you grow up enough to realize that love is not enough. That no matter how much you love someone, you know you won't be happy with them for anything very long-term. That is so sad. I think we'll be together for a long time, I do - but I can't see myself marrying him; even if I wanted to. It just wouldn't work.

Anyway - this was weighing heavily on my mind this morning. I haven't heard from the Ex in over a month - and had an awful dream that he went far away from me. I'm fighting with The One I Can't Be With, and the situation with the One I Love But Know I'll Never Be Happy With has been nagging at me. Well, no one ever said love was easy, right?

Reminds me of a quote I came up with during the re-birthing period I went through after the Ex and I parted ways.
"Love kills the weak; Love frees the strong."


- shanna bared her soul & griped a bit @ 6:48 AM

Wednesday, June 18, 2003

It's the first day of the rest of my life...

In the form of baring my soul and sharing my life with the online community via this blogger that is. Some of you may wonder how this will differ from the many ways I already share myself via my website & online journal. Actually, this will be quite different.

For starters, I post in my online journal, an average of every 2-6 months - sometimes the span is even longer. In other words, it's just something I fuck with every now and again when I feel like jotting down my thoughts. While my website is chock full of the true inner me - it's piecemeal at best. It's no valid record of what I am like on a daily basis, what I go through, what I think - who I really am. It's not my life.

That's the purpose of Anima - to expose the non-glam, naked me. Every day. It's quite a landmark for me. You see, I've NEVER been able to be consistent in anything - be it my actual writing or penning my thoughts in a journal (pen & paper or otherwise). This is a big project for me. Even if I have nothing more to write about than what I did on the previous evening - it's getting recorded. That's not to say I won't miss days - but this won't be a sporadic, whenver-the-fuck record of musings. This is going to be my everyday life, and I intend to try and document it as consistently as time & my lazy ways permits.

Now that I've completely over-explained myself, I will begin. Welcome to my world.

- shanna bared her soul & griped a bit @ 9:31 AM

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