jasmine's journal

new zealand!

noreply@blogger.com (jasmine) — Tue, 15 Jan 2008 22:50:00 +0000

I'm leaving the continent, folks! We'll be gone for the month of march, so we know to the date when spring comes for us this year! Yeeeeaaaaahhhhhh.
If anyone has any must-see/ must-go-to information, just drop me a line, eh?
I've been updating pieces of the website and myspace, so snoop around and see if you can find the new stuff...it's hiding...

creeps in disguise

noreply@blogger.com (jasmine) — Sun, 02 Dec 2007 23:23:00 +0000

I used to think it was really only the mean people who suck, but now I can definitively say that I prefer the mean ones to the ones that pretend to be full of light and joy and truth and faith only because they believe if they keep telling people they are these things, then one day they will be. This is not so.
I can weed out the assholes pretty quickly these days, but every once in a while, one gets in under my radar and, due to a sneaky disguise or a well turned phrase, gets close enough to hurt me.
Those are the ones I can really do without entirely.
Then I have to dust off my asshole suit and tell them to stay away from me in no uncertain terms, which makes me feel like the person on the other side of my songs like unwelcome or ties that bind.
Perhaps the world needs a handbook on the different varieties of creeps and jerks and how to identify and deflect them with minimal harm to self.
I'd read it...

aria marie

noreply@blogger.com (jasmine) — Thu, 09 Aug 2007 22:43:00 +0000

I watched the miracle of birth today.
I like to think I participated in some way, but really it just happened and I was really just there.
Michelle and Jadon have a beautiful, healthy baby girl named Aria Marie Rempel and I am so proud of them both. I cannot think of two people who will make batter parents than these two wise, kind hearts.
I will teach her how to make spitball shooters and encourage her to get muddy.
Serious business, this kid thing.
I think I may start thinking about getting one myself.
Some day.
In a few years.
Or more.
Eventually.

yellowknife!

noreply@blogger.com (jasmine) — Fri, 22 Jun 2007 22:36:00 +0000

I am here with Michelle and Beth and Michelle's unborn baby belly and I am calm and I can breathe in a new way. It is quieting to be so close to the kind of raw nature that can kill you if you don't take it seriously.
At this time of year, it is like one long day that never really ends.
Puts a new spin on time.
Makes me wonder why we rush around so much down south.
I can't wait to come here with you, my love.
Your eyes will light up as a child's at the enormity of all of this.

april 17, 2007

noreply@blogger.com (jasmine) — Sat, 21 Apr 2007 22:21:00 +0000

is a day that will be celebrated as an anniversary henceforth.
Lonely anymore I am not.
Sad anymore I am not.
This for all of you too I hope.

banana sandwiches in no name baggies

noreply@blogger.com (jasmine) — Sun, 01 Apr 2007 20:12:00 +0000

the smell of bananas and poverty
follow me relentlessly.
I am wondering if
the others can tell
I'm from small town nowhere
and I still don't belong here.
once apon a memory
I used to think you'd think of me
when eventually we'd part.
our ways have ways of telling us
what our hearts might repress or deny.
or better yet, to the benefit of others
we succumb.

what was I thinking?

noreply@blogger.com (jasmine) — Fri, 23 Mar 2007 21:30:00 +0000

I was an ass last night. At least, I was in my head at the end of it all.
But it's ok, because I got a little lost in the moment and didn't realize I was being an ass and we're all allowed to lose our way once in a while.
If I was an ass to you, I am truly sorry.
If I wasn't, just disregard, eh?
Oh, by the way, Jane Hawley is a beautiful little firecracker and Chris Vail rocks my world.
Have a good one...I will.
jas

feeling fine, thank you

noreply@blogger.com (jasmine) — Thu, 22 Mar 2007 18:36:00 +0000

I feel good today. There aren't a lot of journal entries that start out that way for me. I just don't take the time to write when I'm feeling just fine.
I've been thinking maybe we are programmed not to express ourselves when we feel good. When we're excited as kids we are told to "calm down" or "find something quiet to do." If you're good at the wrong things, it can lead to traumatic experiences with peers throughout primary school. Then in highschool, it becomes cool to be sullen and depressed, or at the very least non-communicative.
As adults, I doubt there is one among us that didn't go through some kind of realization process that life is harder than we thought it would be. It is hard, and we have to be strong to get through it. Then comes the part where we measure our worth by how strong we are...how much shit we have to put up with...conversations become comparisons about how over worked, underpaid, overtired (etc!) we are. If you tell people you're doing exceptionally well, you open yourself to jealousy or resentment or you're thought of as a bragger. How much sense does that make?
I feel best when everyone I love is happy. I may not necessarily be happy myself, but I can always be happy for Dave when he's asked to come to SXSW. I can be spilling-over proud of Alison for being such a brilliant light in the world. I can be thrilled for Will as I watch him flailing around on stage like the true rockstar he is. I feel at peace when I know my friends are happy and healthy and loved. This makes more sense to me.
I just bought ingredients to make turkey and vegetable pies for Frazer and the girls. I should add here that I am a vegetarian, with two exceptions...I eat fishes (because they have tiny brains and live a relatively long time before becoming food) and turkeys (because they're mean for no reason). I'll also be making berry pies for their just desserts.
Then tonight, I'm off to day 2 of the absessions, which is what I've taken to calling it...my favorite week for music in the entire year!
Sunshine on his shoulders makes blue shiny...
It's going to be a good day. Decide that for yourself today too, ok?
Then tell someone how good it feels.
jasmine

I can do anything

noreply@blogger.com (jasmine) — Tue, 13 Mar 2007 22:08:00 +0000

I don’t know whether I was born with the perception that I could do anything or whether that came later.

In my early years, I’m sure this came across to my elders as a cockiness of sorts and I’m sure it annoyed a great many before I became aware of others’ perceptions. I was always the one saying, “I know how to do that”, or “let me try…I know what I’m doing.”

I’ll not lie…my undying belief in myself led to a lot of mistakes and I’ve had to become familiar with apologizing. Over time, I’ve learned to admit, “I’m not sure…” and “I have absolutely no idea”. This way I don’t disappoint myself or, more importantly, others.

When I was a kid, I was invincible. I challenged the fastest kids to races and I don’t remember the losing part, only the “I’ll get better and win next time” running through my head.

When my shoulder dislocated for the first time, I thought it was just a neat trick…something that set me apart. I didn’t ever think it would hold me back. In the years to follow, I would have to learn to tell people (a lot of people), “I can’t.” That was hard enough…then came the part where I realized that not everyone believed what I was telling them. How strange that seemed to me…why would I lie?

That’s when it first occurred to me, “if I’m not believed when I tell the truth, what’s my motivation for telling it?”

I started lying…vehemently, convincingly, and without remorse. It is no exaggeration to say that it took years for me to stop lying and start trusting people to hear my truth again. I don’t tell lies anymore, not even the white ones and it is knowing this that gives me the greatest sense of satisfaction with myself. I also know my limitations and not to push myself beyond them. I can still be useful…productive, even. I don’t break commitments and I don’t create drama for myself or others by insisting I can do things that I cannot.

But I still believe (somewhere deep down in a place that I hide from the skeptics) that I can do anything.

I watched the secret on January 1 and it has changed my life. Nothing on that show was new information to me…my “airy fairy” family and friends and I have been aware of these ideas for years. It was, however, crucial for me to have something tangible to refer to when it becomes difficult to put theory into practice. If you’ve watched the movie or read the book, you know what I mean and if you haven’t, do so now, okay?

So now, let’s take stock…I have an intrinsic belief that I can do anything, no matter how unrealistic it may seem. However, this is tempered with the fact that I know my limitations and therefore know not to make commitments for which I will have to surpass them, which is what often led to the lying. I have a few secrets that I still struggle with, but so do we all and otherwise I am completely forthright and honest. I know there are good people in my life who love and support me, I know that there is no excuse for losing faith, and I know the secret is to believe. All of this makes it especially hard to accept the reality that sometimes, I just don’t believe.

Is it human nature? Is it an artist’s nature? Is it something in me that is broken that I need to find and fix? Maybe the mistakes I made along the way were too big, too many to be forgiven.

When I wake up in the morning and I have nothing to do, nowhere to go, and no obligations, I feel so useless and ashamed that I want to crawl back under the covers and sleep it all away. When I sit down with my guitar to write, I feel like all my thoughts are completely trivial when compared with what’s going on in our world. I become so discouraged that I write nothing down and much of my time is spent thinking about the blank page.

I remind myself that my job is to inspire thoughts and emotions in others by sharing mine, but I feel so heavy with a responsibility to say something good, something meaningful and beautiful to capture and comfort. My words come out sounding contrived and I feel cheap and dishonest.

I don’t want to sing about my disastrous affairs of the heart anymore. I want to talk about something that matters…the ice age that is not-so-subtly sneaking up on us, the social injustices that we’ve learned to ignore, the importance of seeing and being passionate, and of being kind. I don’t want to waste anymore words on unrequited love. I don’t want to be unrequited anymore. You love me or you don’t…I can’t choose how much or in what way it will all play out. Sometimes, no matter how much you want it, you don’t get to have it. It’s time for me to let go and keep on. I want to sing of hope and compassion and in turn to be filled with more of it to give.

Before I grew up, I thought I was really going to be something. Something special, alright. Independence was the most important thing in the world to me and I dreamed of having my own house with really great furniture and appliances that still gleamed with newness. I could picture the towels hanging in the bathroom, the clothes hanging in the closet, the bed with real posts at the corners, and the sleek car in the driveway. I saw trips around the world and never worrying about money in any major kind of way. I saw myself doing something important, something impressive, something not-just-anybody could do and I believed that I would make a positive difference somehow, somewhere.

Thirty isn’t so far away these days and the best thing I can say about my life is that I really like myself. I’m proud of the things I do for the ones I love and I legitimately know that I am doing my very best at everything I take on. This has definitely not always been the case, so now I can feel the difference. That said, doing my best hasn’t got me the house or the car or the money so I have to admit that I am still, in those respects, a failure. Sometimes it’s hard to stomach that and the self-doubt creeps into every other area of my life, making it hard to remember how to believe.

When my doubt takes over, when I feel as though I am a disappointment…a disabled adult dependent on my parents without means to ever enjoy the kind of independence I used to dream of…I start to wonder what others must think of me. Then I go spiraling into the questions, which are always rooted in the idea that the ones I love must be thinking the worst of me and just keeping it to themselves. Do they think I am choosing this? Do they think I am milking the system? Do they think I’m weak and that I could have something more if I just tried harder? Do I downplay everything to a point where they just think I’m lazy?

All our lives, we are taught that it doesn’t matter what “they” think about us. What kind of crap is that? Of course it matters what others say and feel about you, because (I realize that this doesn’t apply to every situation) it is a reflection of who you are and what you bring to others and who among us doesn’t need to look in a mirror once in a while? In the same way as there is less incentive to be honest when you are met with distrust anyway, it is harder to continue striving toward goodness when it isn’t acknowledged that you are doing so.

And so, I need Dave to send me the odd email telling me I’m a good friend and I need lin to look me in the eye and tell me I did a good job in such a way that I could never doubt it. I need my brother to write me sappy birthday cards and my sister to leave me dorky little post-it messages around my room. And if I don’t get what I need, I need to let it go and keep on.

The pains of the past keep hurting as long as you let them. They don’t just keep hurting you, though. Pain can be passed through generations. Mistrust caused by one generation’s betrayal can survive indefinitely, until someone stops it and decides to make it better.

Oh yeah, I’m that someone. I can do anything…I do believe. I’ve been wallowing and I will undoubtedly wallow again, but I will always come back to this…

I can do anything and you can’t break me.

love jasmine

catching up...

noreply@blogger.com (jasmine) — Wed, 21 Feb 2007 20:28:00 +0000

The last journal entry I wrote about what's going on was from Santa Cruz, California, so I'll tell you what I've been up to since then. I was in Santa Cruz to visit some good friends and play at their beautiful wedding. After two weeks there, I took an overnight Greyhound to Los Angeles, which is of course an adventure in itself. Met up with lin at the airport and then Alice and Kristina at their beautiful home and had an absolutely awesome few days with them. I didn't hate LA at all, which surprised me due to the bad reviews I got from others before I went. In fact, I can't wait to go back. Only to visit, not to stay...of course.
lin and I flew out to Vancouver and she and the fates opened up for Fruit...GREAT SHOW! Got sick in Vancouver...first time in years...bummer. Since arriving back from the coast, I've been trying to figure out what to do with the rest of my life. It's hard to know what to do with the new record...the music industry is such a grey area right now and it doesn't know what it is anymore or what it's going to look like tomorrow, much less next year.
I've been primarily on the farm and organizing is the best one-word description for what I've been doing. I've gone through boxes and bags and rubbermaid bins full of miscellaneous memorabilia and coins and scrumpled up bits of scrap papers with odds and ends of songs scribbled on them and letters and business cards and phone numbers from would-be suitors...you name it. I have thrown out more than half of the junk that I used to think I needed and I have catalogued the rest in an anal-retentive, overboard kind of a way. I still have a shoebox full of business cards and email addresses and such that I need to put into a phone book and organize further, but for the most part, I am now done. I feel calmer now that I know where everything is and I don't wonder, "do I still have that somewhere?", I just know now.
As far as my emotional state of being, it's a day to day thing, but on the whole I am vastly improved now that I have new resources at my disposal. I have become a whole hearted believer in anti depressants. I was afraid that I would feel different, as in not myself...but I don't at all. I just feel stronger and calmer and more able to cope. I can make sense of my thoughts and I can catalogue and organize them as easily as I did the bins of sentimentality. The ones I love are likely grateful for this, as I am no longer prone to irrationally attacking without warning and my happiness is coming from a real place instead of a desperate one. I still have moments when I fall short of the expectations I make for myself, but it's easier to forgive myself those lapses now.
Anyway, that's about it for now...I'm playing and writing and being grateful and hopeful and just trying to figure out what to do next, so if anyone has any brilliant ideas, let me know, okay?
Thanks for listening.
jas

noreply@blogger.com (jasmine) — Thu, 01 Feb 2007 22:32:00 +0000

and you're trying not to notice
and I'm trying not to leave
so you ask me to be hopeful
and I ask you to believe
but we're running around in triangles
because I'm not the one you need

hiding from you

noreply@blogger.com (jasmine) — Thu, 25 Jan 2007 20:26:00 +0000

snow shrinks away from sun
as do I, frozen inside.
rigidly wary of thaw,
mind in charge of heart,
heart caged, deaf, and dumb,
protected and preserved
by routine and discipline
until mind, distracted
(warm with wishes and wine)
will loosen its grip
and let slip
heart's truth through eyes

january 16, 2007

noreply@blogger.com (jasmine) — Tue, 16 Jan 2007 22:22:00 +0000

I've thrown all your forgive me nots out
of the bedroom window of the house you used to share
with me back in the good days
before you got sidetracked

after a long hiatus...

noreply@blogger.com (jasmine) — Fri, 29 Sep 2006 08:14:00 +0000

First, I want to let you know that my web mail crashed this summer and I lost all of my contacts…so if you have ever emailed me, please do so again, as I am missing many of you and can’t do anything about it…okay? My address is jasmine@jasminewhenham.com
So I asked my mom recently why she thinks I’m here…what my job is in this world. First she said, “to make people think” and then she said, “no, it’s to make people feel”. Maybe it’s both. I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately…struggling to find a reason for my little existence and wondering whether I can affect any change in my lifetime.
I’m listening to Jann Arden self-titled as I write this and I have to say I’m not really impressed with it…even the good tracks are ones I’ve heard on her previous recordings, just retooled and produced differently. I used to hang on her every word…I remember reading her online journal entries and thinking she must be from another world, here to put into words the unspeakable and teach us all something about compassion and living well. These days I’m too otherwise preoccupied to read her journal, let alone write in mine, but when I was a devout reader, sometimes the things she said made such an impression on me that I felt compelled to write her a letter telling her how she had spoken my unspeakable and made me feel less alone in a difficult time. I thought about whether she would ever read that letter or email and I eventually came to the conclusion that it was enough that she had helped me with the sharing of her thoughts and feelings and that it would serve no purpose for me to tell her so.
So now here I am, releasing my record and looking ahead to a bright future and I have my own online journal. I have my own stage to speak from and my own truth to tell, in the hopes that someone will read or hear my words and somehow be affected, comforted, compelled, inspired, or simply entertained. I make myself vulnerable to my audience. I leave myself to your judgments, good or bad, and I tell my truth in my own words and unabashedly.
Well, it would seem that my little old thoughts compelled some individuals to contact me and tell me how I had shared things that hit close to home for them. I remembered my own thoughts of writing to Ms Arden and I thought, “if I had done that, it would have meant a lot to me if she had responded in some way.” I will also say that while I am painfully lazy and neglectful when it comes to anything internet related, I do eventually reply to all the emails that come through my inbox. And so, I replied in good faith and with good intentions.
Sometimes people have motives that are impure. Sometimes people have hidden agendas. Sometimes people are so lost that they can think of nothing else but pulling other people down into their mire. Sometimes people take advantage of innocence, honesty and vulnerability…it’s not new to me, it goes back to grade school when I handed my new time jammer watch (a birthday present from my grandma) to the class bully because he “thought it was cool” and “wanted to see it close up“. Yeah, he called me a loser and flushed it down the toilet. Fortunately it didn’t go down, but if you’ve ever been the kid reaching into the toilet to pull your watch out as your jeering classmates point and laugh, you know this isn’t exactly a happy ending. I’m proud to say that my heart still gets stepped on, because that just means I’m still holding it out there, even though I appreciate the risk.
As a side note, I watched the series premiere of Ugly Betty tonight and I think I love it. It made me feel something I haven’t felt from a tv show before…still can’t quite convert that feeling to words, but it was something distinctly different. Check it out. Of course, I am also all wrapped up in Grey’s Anatomy again and totally blown away by how many tv shows KT Tunstall has her songs on…first on Ugly Betty and then an hour later on Six Degrees, plus every time someone left So You Think You Can Dance last season, plus American Idol, plus Canadian Idol…is this a Simon Cowell thing? I’d love to hear my song on a syndicated show…anyone know how to make that happen?
So anyway, here I am, back on line, despite the jerks that scared me off for a while. I really try to be real and good and kind at all times and to everyone I meet, regardless of the headspace I may be in myself at the time. I am comforted by the knowledge that I am doing my best and I will continue doing what I do and being who I am, but if you step on me, I’ll take down your name and add it to the list. Furthermore, believe me, if you have already abused my trust, I do know who you are. All of you. And you know who you are. So when I don’t talk to you when you come to my shows, when I turn away from you as you approach me, please do not think that I am high on a horse, because I am not. I don’t think I’m better than anyone else…quite the contrary most days. I am not a hurtful, vindictive person and I am not simply a bitch. If I don’t talk to you, if I don’t share myself openly and honestly with you as I do with everyone else, it is likely because you had your chance and blew it and have done something to wrong me or someone I love. It is your fault, not mine.
There is nothing worse in this world than abusing innocent, honest vulnerability.

my dear isabelle

noreply@blogger.com (jasmine) — Mon, 03 Apr 2006 16:03:00 +0000

I have been remiss, my friend. I will write you an email in the next 48 hours, for sure. You see, when I am so low I can't look myself in the eye, I avoid everyone, and then when I am okay, I'm out there doing everything I can find to do and I can't convince myself to sit down and type on a computer. Even now, I find myself drawn toward the sun coming in through the window and I want to leap out of my chair and run to embrace it.
I am sorry, though. I will be better at this.
As far as the rest of you go, I hope you are enjoying the sun and not allowing yourself to be too heavily burdened by the expectations we all put on ourselves and then feel guilty about not meeting.
And don't even get me started about fear.
Life is supposed to feel good. Nobody said that doesn't take work.
I'm fine, how are you?

the alberta sessions

noreply@blogger.com (jasmine) — Tue, 28 Mar 2006 05:31:00 +0000

What a week.
Here are my comments.
Luis Emilio Rios brought me to Cuba with him for 35 minutes and I could almost smell the air there as I sat in rapture in the Engineered Air Theatre.
Heather Blush has lyrics that stir me in ways I am rarely stirred. Her stage presence is captivating, as are her impressive vocal stylings. I was in awe.
Ronnie Hayward brings such an honesty to stage with him that he succeeded in making me feel uncomfortable...I don't know what else to say about that.
Rachelle van Zanten is everything I have heard about her and more. I am blown away by her "guitaring", to say the least. Solo, her voice rings true and she had the hairs standing up on the back of my neck.
Tim Hus has an amazing smile and it shows the side of him that hasn't changed since he was five. Give him time for two songs and a story, and he will win your heart completely.
Anne Loree was nothing short of outstanding. Her presence was cool, sophisticated grace, and she was honest and engaging with the audience. Her songs are the best that the Alberta Sessions has to offer...nothing less than brilliant. Her voice was clear and expressive and her audience was rapt.
Jay Crocker made me feel immediately comfortable, and it was the closest thing to a living room performance that I have seen outside a living room. He is passionate and connected to his instrument, his audience, and his songs.
James Keelaghan brought me back to a time many moons ago when I would fall asleep feeling the music of the Edmonton Folk Festival through the ground under the tarp and the fuzzy blue blanket. His storytelling is superb and his voice is so strong and soothing that you are wrapped in a pair of warm arms, totally at home.
Terry Morrison made me cry some tears that have been sticking around inside me for much too long. Her melodies take me on a trip along rolling hills and curves before flying up with the lilt and grace of a swallow. She is someone deeply connected to the soul.
Shane Ghostkeeper dried my tears and put a perma-grin on my face. He was endearing, funny, shy, and rambunctious all at the same time. I have work for him, I think.
Unfortunately I missed Andrew Wedderburn and The Choir as I had a prior commitment.
Tim Williams is prolific. I loved the song about the two car family, but unfortunately, I could only be soothed absently by the music drifting backstage, as I was sweating buckets backstage. We were talking about it kind of feeling like waiting for the firing squad...soooo nervous.
Tariq's new cd was playing on Friday night and I highly recommend it. It is a record for many activities and purposes by a man who gets better every time I see him. It is the kind of music you can dance to when you're sitting down. Maybe even lying down.
Mark Davis was masterful in his execution. He is a seasoned musician, confident performer, and he writes darn pretty songs.
That's all for tonight. What a mouthful.
Everyone look to the sun now, and ask it to stay.

excellent

noreply@blogger.com (jasmine) — Tue, 21 Mar 2006 02:27:00 +0000

My head is emerging from the fog I have been sitting under...this is good.
Well, what do you know...I heard from Reghan. That was nice...I will have to endeavor to find "One Eyed Jacks" on Friday night. I'm also going to the fates' show at Karma that night, but I am a big believer in doing both.
The record is coming along swimmingly. I can't recommend Craig Newnes and his team of geniuses (Andrew Cull, Adam Esposito, James Bailey, Clea Roddick, etcetera) enough. Go to the website at www.glowmusicarts.com (it's also on my links page)
I'm just getting ready for a great week of live music...it's just what the doctor ordered. Hey, does anyone know anyone that can alter a shirt and a pair of pants (a little bit) for me by Saturday? They just don't make pants that look flattering on the assless.
Just got back from nose hill...good jaunt today. The boys are licking and sleeping and grunting.
I'm going to make some good food now.
Protein something, I think.
That's all.
Thanks to all of you that hold my head up.
love from me

To Reghan

noreply@blogger.com (jasmine) — Thu, 02 Mar 2006 09:28:00 +0000

I really admired your courage asking me to share your table. People don't do that stuff enough anymore. I also enjoyed meeting you and listening to you sing.
I'm sorry I didn't get to say goodbye, as I thought you knew I was just saying goodnight to my friends and that I would be back. Sadly, you left.
Maybe you will read this and know what happened. Maybe you will never read this.
I hope we will meet again.

drums!

noreply@blogger.com (jasmine) — Sat, 25 Feb 2006 04:40:00 +0000

Oh my God. Andrew Cull is a genius. He did such a nice job on the drums for my record.
For the first time, I am completely and genuinely excited about this project. Self doubt is gradually draining away and leaving me with a sense that everything is as it should be in the universe and it is all falling into place beautifully.
Sometimes it is so scary to have people believing in you. I'm afraid to let people down, I'm afraid that somehow I have been "tricking" people into thinking I have talent that maybe I don't have. I'm mostly just afraid to believe in myself, because once I'm really invested in anything, I know it will hurt if the return on the investment is something less than expected, although I'm not sure whose expectations I'm really talking about.
Anyway, the point is, screw it. Heartbreak, here I come, but I am investing myself totally into myself.
Thank god the depression is letting up.

good news

noreply@blogger.com (jasmine) — Sat, 18 Feb 2006 06:33:00 +0000

I passed by a mirror tonight and thought I might not be so bad looking. Eureka. I must be coming out of the sludge.
I'm home for the Family Day weekend, and Alison and I are going to paint her bedroom (blue and green to complement the yellow ceiling and closet).
My head makes more sense on the inside already. My family always does that...makes me feel good and normal.
That's all. Just thought I'd share a less dark moment.

stuck in a puddle

noreply@blogger.com (jasmine) — Thu, 16 Feb 2006 17:34:00 +0000

Someone has actually been reading these things.
I never really considered that likely.
Anyway, she seems to think I've been a little dark lately, so she sent me an email asking me if I'm ok...
The answer is always yes, I'm just fine.
What's strange to me is that the parts of me that aren't okay are all secrets.
I called my mom in a fit of hysteria last night, after spending an hour telling myself that I wouldn't. I let everything out and cried until I couldn't breathe. However, as soon as I had expressed all that stuff, I feel instantly guilty for throwing it all on her. My mom doesn't need that, nor my dad. But Mom's the one that always jumps on side with me immediately and rushes to defend and protect my truth, never questioning me, even despite all the lies I told her in the long ago past. Dad's the one that talks to me calmly and rationally after I've calmed down and explains that the rad I just replaced might be quite fine and it might just be a problem with the thermostat or the heater core that is preventing any heat from circulating inside the car. They already do too much for me, and I know that they would both be much happier if I could just be okay and figure out a way to be productive.
I certainly can't rely on friends to listen to me and understand. First of all, they don't really have enough of themselves invested in me to understand or try to. Secondly, they might sit and make you feel better about yourself, but then your friends start talking to eachother, saying things like,"It's so hard to be around her", "she used to be so much fun", "I wish she would just figure it out and get over it already", worse yet,"Isn't it a shame about Jasmine?" or "she's so young...when she's older and gone through more, this won't seem so bad." I've been down that road before...you start to look a little too needy, not quite worth the effort, and the friends start disappearing, looking for relationships that require less maintenance. And I don't blame them for a second. Who needs that?
Fake it until you make it, jasmine. You won't be this way forever. It will get better. These are the things I tell myself over and over and over in my head, but to no avail. I am stuck in a puddle.
And so, I write my thoughts down, in a way explaining them to myself in a way I can better understand. My friends don't sit down and check out my website on a regular basis, you see. Many of them haven't got the faintest idea where I am or how I am. Others know there's something up and I've probably given them the explanation I think they are most likely to understand..."I'm lonely", "I'm stressed out about making this record right now", "I'm worried about money".
I keep all my truths to myself and therefore, maybe I myself am becoming a secret, kept from those I love to protect them.
After all, nobody wants to join you in a puddle.

But really, I'm okay.

valentines

noreply@blogger.com (jasmine) — Wed, 15 Feb 2006 06:10:00 +0000

In a city that offers anything and everything, I want nothing.
You want food? What kind? You want sex? It's everywhere...check Cowboy's or, on a more limited budget, the dark doorways along 10th Avenue or 3rd Street. You want a relationship? Singles book club meets first Tuesday of the month at the Starbucks nearest you. You want love? Well...I'm not really sure where to recommend looking for that.
I'm thinking of home as I walk down 10th Avenue at 4pm. I'm thinking about the path in the forest that was carved by my great grandparents, my grandparents, parents, and now me. I am thinking that there is evidence of my having been there and of my connection to that land. I belong to that land.
My feet leave no prints in this city of concrete and steel. I have been here a hundred times, I'm sure, and yet there is no proof of that. I mean nothing to this place.
I sat in a car on the side of the avenue and had a conversation with an unlikely candidate. He said unkind words about me and I heard about it and now every time I see him, my guard goes up and I expect that I am going to lash out, say something regrettable. I'll never understand why he said those things about me to other people. Don't get me wrong, there are people out there that don't like me for very good reason...I'm far from perfect. There are, sadly, more out there that wouldn't like me if they found out what I have done to them or said about them in the past. I can deal with the ones that have good reasons.
It is the people that don't have a good enough reason to dislike me that I can't deal with.
This time, something was different when I saw him, although I'm not sure what. Maybe it was just me. I didn't care about the things he had said or not said about me in the past. It hasn't always been this way, but I don't think I could hold a grudge now if my life depended on it. And so, we sat in his borrowed car and had a charming conversation about very real and important things, which was to be immediately juxtaposed with a conversation with another man that strives more for money and power and other people's envy than for anything real and good.
I was equally kind with both men.
I can't leave my footprints in the ground here, but maybe I can leave them in hearts.
Thank God for love.

3 am

noreply@blogger.com (jasmine) — Sun, 12 Feb 2006 09:55:00 +0000

Well, I've just come home from "the bar".
I have this overwhelming urge to call you right now. I guess it isn't really completely overwhelming, because I'm not actually going to pick up the phone or anything. Would you get out of my head already?
Why can't people just be who they say they are?
Why can't I, just little old me as I am, be enough?
I am so easy to love, really.
I guess I'm even easier to leave.
I wish you were that easy to leave behind.

almost over you

noreply@blogger.com (jasmine) — Thu, 02 Feb 2006 18:47:00 +0000

I have been thwarted by cupid again. Well, it was six whole months ago now, but I needed that long to digest it. Which isn’t to say I’m over it. How pathetic is that at the six month mark?
It’s remarkable how emotion can really take over my entire existence. It’s also frightening to me that emotion has no attachment to my intellect, as my intellect usually has a really good grip on things and it would be awesome if some of it would transfer to my destroyed emotion organ, whatever that is in biological terms.
My intellect reminds me that you weren't the right one anyway, that you didn't understand the way I think or feel. My intellect reminds me that you were wrong and you did horrible things and that I should hate you. But I don't.
Because with all my many shortcomings, I am consistently and predictably kind. That was what drew you to me. And now, it is what prevents me from hating you for all the lies. The last lie was the hardest to take, by the way. What was the point?
Whatever lesson it was that you needed to learn from me, I hope it is learned now. I hope you don’t do this again. I hope you remember the pain on my face. I hope you don’t let yourself off the hook for causing it. I hope you take responsibility and actually change, instead of just talking about it. I hope you’re okay.
I hope some of my kindness rubbed off.
I hope you leave me alone.
jasmine

from a parking lot somewhere

noreply@blogger.com (jasmine) — Sun, 15 Jan 2006 00:20:00 +0000

I am so thankful for everything.
Everyone I love is healthy. That's a big one. I have GOT to thicken my skin significantly before someone I need leaves.
It is literally too much for me to think about.
I absolutely NEED to experience and understand everything. That's why I say dumb things so often. I don't NEED to tell the WHOLE truth ALL the time. I mean, really jas, give your head a shake. Sometimes it's just unnecessary and self-serving, really. I'm absorbing this right now and I know that my errors will only make me better. After all, at least I can recognize them. That seems difficult, even impossible for many.
I feel lucky.
jas