Finally, I forgive you

I had an epiphany today. I finally forgive my ex-boyfriend, the one I was with for four years. He knows what he did after we broke up that I was latently mad at him for all this time, but I'm finally able to forgive him 100%. I realize now that it wasn't a matter of him consciously trying to hurt me, but that people do some stupid and desperate things when they go through a big change in life. I can empathize. Maybe I haven't made the exact same choices he did, but I have enough perspective to realize that the way I'm reacting to my separation is a lot like the way he handled our breakup. I take back what I said about him being a bad person, because I really don't think that's what it boils down to at all. He's human, and so am I. Humanity sucks sometimes, I swear to it. But it's not really something you can avoid when you're, you know, a member of our species. I hate that it took me so long to gain the proper perspective on our whole post-breakup phase, but whatever. I got there eventually, and I can finally say those three words I've been itching to say (and mean) for four years: "I forgive you." Mission accomplished.

Dreary existence

Some days I get tired of this dreary existence. Being unemployed su-huh-hucks. But what are you going to do? I've applied for jobs like crazy. No one wants to hire someone right now that can only work 20 hours a week. It's hard being lame. I have to apply for SSI next month so I can TRY to get more money from the government to help pay my living expenses. I'm going to be broke in about two months.

Apprehension

photo credit: Cedric Smith

I did my first nude shoot today, and I have to say, I was terribly apprehensive about it. Maybe more along the lines of terrified. I did some figure modeling in college, but it hardly compares at all. It wasn't really so much the fact that I wasn't wearing clothes in front of someone I didn't know, but more that I was really worried the images would come out looking pornographic. From what I've seen so far, what the photographer has sent me, my fears are unfounded. He only sent me one picture, but I was floored with how... hell, how fucking cool it was! He did some crazy photoshopping to make it look all grainy and vintage and I just totally fucking love the way it turned out. I'm so excited to get the completed images when he's done editing them, and I think my parents will only slightly disown me if they ever see them. :) But if it turns out more like art than porn, you're already doing something right. I really hope to work with the photographer again. I wouldn't have worked with him at all if his portfolio hadn't really stood out to me, and I'm glad I will have that sort of work to add to MY portfolio. Geez, talking about modeling stuff can be really boring, eh? But it's just about all I have going on in my life right now. Still no job, still no man... just a hobby.

Another excellent day in front of the camera

I had another photo shoot today. The main difference was that this one was a lot more posed, a lot slower paced. The pair of photographers had a lot more equipment to work with and it was much more formal than the last shoot. AND much, much longer. The first one was about an hour and a half... this was more like 5 hours. I'm very excited about getting the pictures though (didn't get them immediately) . The ones I looked at on the camera screens were just so phenomenal it nearly blew me out of the water. I was pretty. Me, Amanda! And I wonder if those pictures might be the difference in whether I start being offered paid gigs. I already have three more shoots lined up... one with a photographer from Savannah who's coming into town tomorrow, one Saturday with John (the photog that did my first shoot), and one on Monday. For an unemployed person, I keep pretty busy, and as far as hobbies go (and that's really all modeling is for me at this point), it's less expensive and more time consuming than most. And I get out, get to meet new people... it's all very exciting. I can't wait to put some of my new pictures up when I get them!

*update* The above is my favorite shot of the... 13 or so pictures I've been given thus far. I know they took a lot of photos and it'll be a while before I get my CD of the images, but I'm very hopeful!

Wouldn't it be lovely to get paid for this? Or anything, really?

I wonder sometimes what one has to do to become a professional blogger. I think the most important issue is probably subject matter. Political blogs, entertainment blogs, lifestyle blogs... etc. I don't think you can just blog about your life and make money unless perhaps you're already famous, which I'm certainly not. Famous in the realm of my imagination maybe. I think some of it has to do with the volume of posting material... now THAT is something I'd never have a problem with. :) I wouldn't even be wondering about such things if I had a job. Any job. Right now I'm on the verge of being destitute. Not quite there yet, but definitely having to be careful of how I spend my money. It gets me thinking about writing though. I would LOVE to write for a living. If I had the focus and drive necessary, I would totally write a novel. There's the rub... a complete and utter lack of focus. Granted, I can focus about the length of one blog entry, but when it comes to sitting down and outlining and planning and KNOWING what I'm going to write before the words reach my fingers, I'm completely and utterly useless. I write in a stream of consciousness type of way, and when I try to plan things, I fail miserably. I don't know how I always did so well on term papers and essays in high school. I just wrote or typed as the words came to me, never with much thought for structured arguments. In that way, I'm a pretty shitty writer. In small doses, I don't imagine it matters too much, but when you're trying to read 300+ pages of stream of consciousness... good God, it's got to be nearly impossible. And as you may have noted, even journal-type writing isn't my thing. I can't report what happened in my day with just the slightest touch of analysis. I am an analyzing machine! That's all I do. I'm not a damn newspaper. I'm not objective when it comes to my own life. Perhaps it's the 4+ years I've been with my therapist that have spoiled me. Insight and introspection are staples of good therapy. I will gladly admit that I have an awesome therapist and she has massively changed my life for the better, but in doing so I think I've become very self centered. Not in the bad way, like I think the universe revolves around me, but more that I care more about what I think than anything else. Maybe that wasn't her doing though. As I said before, I've been consistently blogging for about five and a half years (longer than she's been in the picture), and pardon the crude nature of the comparison, but in many ways I equate blogging to mental masturbation. Self-stimulation of the brain. Maybe I should just let that comparison go right there before I get any deeper into it... the result could be both uncomfortable and rather graphic. ANYWAY, enough for now.

Being single would be so satisfying if it weren't so lonely

I suck at being single. I really, really do. You know, leaving my husband came with a huge sense of relief. I was shouldering way more than I could bear staying with him, and in the end I got out, and VOILA! Peace. I am finally at peace. Months and months of drowning in my own tears, over in as long as it took me to pack my things and get the hell out. I blossomed with self esteem and appreciation for who I am as a person. That is a wonderful feeling! After months and, if you really want to go there, years of feeling like I wasn't good enough, the utter freedom of only having my own expectations to live up to is fucking staggering! *sigh* I feel the need for a disclaimer. *Please excuse the liberal usage of the f-word in its many forms. I assure you it is less a dearth in my available vocabulary and more a love and appreciation for the most foul of oaths.* One of these days I'm going to write a blog entry without so much as a single f-bomb dropped, and it will be regarded on high as one of God's greatest miracles. *Please excuse the liberal usage of hyperbole. It's fun... don't knock it till you've tried it!* Okay, now I'm just getting way off task and getting slightly silly. What was I even talking about? *reads title of post again* OH! I remember now. But one more disclaimer. *Please excuse the liberal usage of the asterix. That is just a failure on my part to be creative with fonts and colors and other formatting bullshit.* Back to my take on single life. So in the face of all this freedom and relief and self esteem and whatever else I feel, there's a gnawing loneliness. You really don't understand how much you'll miss the little comforts of a relationship when there are huge, insurmountable issues staring you in the face, but after you leave, you're left with something else staring you in the face: nothing. No conversation to come home to, no goodnight kiss, no one to tell you everything's going to be okay, even when it's a bold-faced lie. The thing I hate most about being "single" is the sheer stupidity it brings out in me. I try not to think of it as gullibility so much as a desperate need to believe that every endeavor of mine will work itself out to my benefit, romantic or otherwise. I hate to reference the Twilight books AT ALL because I'm embarrassed to even be halfway through the series, but in one way and one way only, I relate to Bella. When Edward leaves, the only satisfaction she gets in life (in the form of a delusion, but I'm too well medicated for that) is from taking stupid risks. I feel that way now. I don't feel like I'm LIVING unless I'm being irresponsible. It's the only way to distract from the empty loneliness... and I wasn't trying to be redundant there. I'll explain. My previous major break up, having come after four years of tumultuous dating, left me lonely as hell... but I wasn't just "lonely." I was lonely for him. I'm not lonely for my husband. I'm just lonely. That's a rather new feeling for me.

Big girls dream big!

Well, perhaps the title of my entry generalizes a lot more than I intend it to do so. Really what I mean that, for a big girl, I have big dreams. I had my first photo shoot this morning as an aspiring model, and although only about 40% of the photos of nearly 120 were to my liking, some of them were absolutely drop dead gorgeous! I got my ass up before 5 am today to do my makeup and hair and all that and get downtown by 6... thank God dawn wasn't much earlier. I had a blast though, whether I ever make it as a plus sized model or (more likely) not. I must admit, there were a few shots with a hint of lingerie showing, but generally it was just me, downtown, in a sun dress looking as pretty as I could manage so early in the morning. A good time was had by all. I have another photo shoot tentatively scheduled for Tuesday with a different set of photographers... another unpaid shoot, but at this point I could stand to just build my portfolio and see what comes of it. It's a crackpot dream, and I'm very well aware the likelihood of it taking off is next to none, but it's fun, and I need a little fun in my life.