first day of fall.

Here's the thing: Nobody knows about your bullshit.

I'm discovering it more everyday as I continue to be only face value friends with co-workers and patrons. All anyone will ever know about me, if I choose so, is that I'm a snazzy dresser, with a honest and kind disposition, who can be a little bit of a sarcastic asshole. I have good posture, I walk around (strut, ha) with confidence, and I have an impressive vocabulary which indicates that I'm at least a little educated. Yet I hold in my memory, years of being teased by other girls, years of only my mother telling me that I'm pretty, years of delicious nerdiness and obsession, years of daddy issues, years of sexual failures, and years of working my ass off for institutions that could give two shits less about me now. But you don't need to know that. All you see are the good things. I carry these things around with me, but they are only manifestations in my development as a human being as a whole. No one gives a shit what you did in high school, or where you're going this afternoon, or who you're friends happen to be. Are you being nice to me in our thirty seconds of time together here on this big bad earth? Awesome. I guess that's all one can ask from people that see each other day in and day out who have no real relationships; be good to each other.

Sitting in front of a computer all day has really killed the laptop junkie in me. When I get home, the last thing I want to do is look at a computer screen anymore than I have to. I think this might be the best thing that has come out of my corporate mind numbing job. That and how much I truly relish every second I'm not here. When I get to step outside and have biting wind pierce my lungs, and sting my eyes I almost account the cold tears to tears of joy. Escape, Air, Life, Space, Terra Firma; my Soul releases and flies for thirty minutes of hazy lunch until I am caged once again and chained to this PC and multi line phone.

Regina and Hugh (the nice older couple :cough: that I'm living with) are under the impression that I go out far to often. I think they're just not aware that when you get home from a long day of work, you do not have to sit in front of your television until you go to bed. I am not the sort of person (as they are) who thrives on stability. Obviously my life has stability, I HAVE TO show up every single day, Monday to Friday before 5:30, and I leave this concrete jailhouse every day at 2. This is more stability than I even need. I also have found true personal, physical, artistic, and emotional stability in yoga. So yes, I am spending about an hour of my day commuting to different studios around Denver, but the results and the peace it brings me are worth it.

Thank god for my friends, and the sebmlence of a life! The saving grace of the working stiff! The instability I crave is found in staying out late and going see my friends band, or hitting the bars, or living like any other twenty something. This does result in lack of sleep, but like a some high school kid, I make up for it on the weekends in fifteen hour mini hibernation's. I honestly see nothing wrong with this. I would rather spend every day doing something new and absurd, where I feel like my human experience is activated, than sitting at this desk feeling my mind and body rot slowly away.

So, I shall use my powers of 7 1/2 hours of seated internet access for good. I'm reading the entire cannon of Shakespeare.

musings within a brightly colored room..

I've got some thoughts about babies.

No, I do not want one, nor do I feel my internal clock going off. Its just that...
They're so small. They are just these tiny little people that have nothing on them: No weight, no deeply rooted issues, no fears. They have not yet done anything to make their parent's disappointed, hardening their skin to a frequently morose world. They are receptive and appreciate of love from all directions whether familiar face, or new smiling one. They trust, because they have no other reason to believe or even question the existence of another option.

Just something I noticed.

------

I sit in this waiting room and I can feel my life slipping away from me. No one should experience the sense that their time is being wasted. Now I know I'm getting paid, so it's not a complete waste, but that's not what I'm talking about. I mean my abilities are going to waste. My capacity is dying. I am doing monotonous tasks and feigning polite conversation for eight hours of my daily existence. I should never have to pretend like this because after having stewed in the daily pleasantries, numbness is setting in. My eyes glaze towards these family. Hi. Do you like spacemen? Blah, Blah, Comfort, Kindness. It's getting fake; and that is what hurts. That I am forcing these emotions that I honestly felt a few weeks ago. Such repetitive human interaction has removed my humane feelings.

Apparently, The health care system has crushed my idealism. Now I know how Obama feels (Ba-zing!)

Pitch this.

I am not turning 23.

I am turning 16.

Not a time traveler, but in a new situational comedy ripe for the sitcom audiences of CBS or Mid-Ninties America. I can't think of a clever title for my basement dwelling sitcom, but it involves such riot situations as:

Hearing my parents have sex in the creaky four poster directly above my bed.
Always having explanations for where I have been until 3 in the morning.
Their understanding my needs for hangover cures and birth control
Sleeping all day on Saturday
... and Sunday
Getting up and out of the house for work before they do.
Doing the crowded morning shuffle when I don't
Hearing comments on how I'm not eating enough
(my favorite)
Getting called on the hickie on my neck before leaving for work this very morning.

High-sterical.

It's a surreal situation in my life. Both personally, and on the homefront. I'm redefining who I am, through the small actions of the everyday. This is the latest edition of Cailin, and this is the way she moves, and reacts and interprets the day to day. She is not the same model from three years ago, or even one.

I am not a student, I live with a "very nice older couple", I have a job where the title "Corporate Compliance" is on the tongues of Management. And yes, all of these things are killing me a little. At the same time, I am starting to save money, time is available for practicing, reading and furthering my audition fundamentals, I am doing a lot of yoga, personal meditation and reflection are up threefold, and I've never felt more comfortable about who I am, and that I am special. Seeing so many in this office world settling for any lot in life, or neglecting opportunities to continue their lifelong pursuit of education only affirms my own belief that; Yes, I am smarter than the Average American worker, and Yes, my dreams can be fulfilled, and Yes I can continue to take out years of loans to someday have a PhD and teach at some romantic sprawling-lawned academic utopia.

I am in Flux. Transition. ReDefinition. All of these things are fine.