Notes from ShellyCentral

March 28, 1994

Several months ago, a long time friend of the GrooveGarden commented on a picture I posted of old journals on a shelf. He suggested that when I didn't have anything to post, I grab an old journal, open randomly and post. I thought it was a brilliant idea, although I've altered it a little: I read through the entry and make sure it's beyond embarrassing before I decide to post it.

Hey, this song 'You' has been stuck in my brain. And I just turned on MTV and there it is. Wild. Candlebox. That's who sings it.

Anyway!
I was in the study trying to be creative, but it just wasn't working. And I decided I needed a journal session. So here I am.

Of course I have just about nothing to say.

That's probably not really true.
I've got lots to say. I just don't know how to get to it and how to get it out.

On the surface, of course are things like I hope I get to the PO soon. Hannah seems to be feeling better. And today she just laid down on the floor and went to sleep.

And right under the surface are things like why did I waste so many years of my life? All those cult years. Just gone. Wasted. Forever.

And why can't I just accept that and go on?

I don't know, but I just can't.

[I have the majorest crush on the Counting Crowes boy.]
[I feels this... something... the creativity... this power... stiring, straining just below the surface! Come out! Come out! Come on out!]

And I think - I started getting RubberStamp Madness magazine way back when we still lived in the apartment. Why didn't I use all that time to grow and develop ME!? What did I do with all that time? All those years?

Sat here on the couch and watched TV.
Sat at the computer and red NetNews.

So thanks to advice from my momma, I've been trying to think of/remember what was different about my life long ago when I was happy.

The biggest majorest thing, I think - I'm sure - is I was around people all the time.

I mean think about high school - I would never be one to say that those were the best days of my, or anyone's, life. But there were great parts. When else in your life do you get to spend 5 days a week with your best friends? How many interpersonal interactions happen in a typical school day?

You see your friends. And people you don't know. And all those in between. Boys you have crushes on. Teachers who think you're smart - or a pain in the butt. You write notes, daydream out the window, hang out under the stage.

So that's one thing.

I also lived with my family. More people to interact with, and my mom to always tell me - always encourage me.

Two things.
And some more:

* I always listened to music.
* I thought I was attractive and flirted with boys all the time
* I had tons of free time.
* The world was my oyster. I had no limits, no responsibilities. All my options were open, I thought I could do anything.
* I had time to be alone.

Hmm I don't know how to describe it but there was just a sense of freedom - life was an adventure. Something to be enjoyed. Lived to the fullest. I want that back!

I also had a freedom to be silly. I did outrageous and crazy things.
I'd like to get back to that, too. Balanced with a bit more maturity/responsibility, of course.

I also need need need to stop watching so much tv. It really does eat my brain. If I hafta watch something I need to rent movies, not watch mindless talk shows and stupid soap operas.

And I need to get more dressed/ready.

Old Journal Revisted

This entry from the journal archives comes from that blue and white journal near the middle of that shelf. It was floral print, from Pier 1. The paper was super smooth and I loved writing in it. I wrote small most of the time. It's from probably 1989, while I was in school at the University of Kansas.

September 14. Before Spanish 108
I wish I had a whole day to take and just sit and write. It just seems that I never have any time to write anymore. Because I don't. Have any time. I haven't done laundry in about 3 weeks because I can't find a two hour slot in which to do it. Ok, I'm setting up a time now.... except that I can't find any empty 2 hour spot. Maybe tomorrow before math lecture, If I get done with my test on time.

Ok, so, let's think upon things that are lovely, not upon things that seem hopeless.

Um, Now I can't think of anything to say. Oh, yes I can. Paul W. finally called me back last night. Yay Yay Yay. I so much love him. But here's the sad thing. He said he hasn't had friends as good as me and him and Terry  and Karma were since then.

 I admit, we were very good pals! Think of all the fun things we did together -- going to Funny BonZ with Karma & Dana, me & Steve and Paul & Terry. And when Paul and I went to the Comets game. And the first time Paul called me to see what I was doing and then he ended up coming over. That so much blew my mind. Remember how that Christine girl always called him Shelly -- Why'd she do that?

We did  Math Deliverance Hour last night. Me and Steff. It was excellent. I was pretty much delivered. Everything we did I thouroughly understood. And you know who helped me? Well first of all Matt, who is going to be a wonderful math teacher. But mostly Danny Brewer, who is an excellent teacher. And very good at this whole math thing. And very patient.

So when it was almost bed time and our deliverance time was almost over for the evening, we went to Joe's for donuts. Me, Steff, Danny and Matt. And it was real fun - especially because Steff had never been to Joe's.

Today I have no free time until about 10pm. And I have about 4 hours of homework. Tell me how that's going to work!
Time for espanol. Hasta lleugo.

An old journal entry

A while ago, after I had posted the pictures of my lifetime's worth of journal, a reader suggested I pull one out now and again when I didn't have anything in particular to say. I thought it was a brilliant idea, but even still lately, with the crazed declutter, redecorate, reorganize the art room project along with regular life, I have fallen by the wayside with all types of posting, even easy things like typing in some words I wrote a long time ago. That's how it goes sometimes, I guess.

But here I am, with a journal entry I wrote in a journal I kept for a class called CORE at Ottawa University in 1985, when I was a freshman. The night before, a girl in our small class was killed by a drunk driver on the way home from a game of some sort. We were instructed to write about something we cared about, and here's what I said. I was 19 years old.

Sept 30
I'm sure I could pick out something specific I care about but I really just feel like I care about people, that's how I feel today. They all have so much to offer - everyone. I wrote Jodi off because I thought - all kinds of things. Well, where did I get off judgig her - or anyone. God she was real, she had so much to offer - everyone does. I am so quick to cut people off - to dismiss them s useless for this or that - things as stupid as "her make up gets on my nerves" or 'he plays football". I have been so wrong. People are where it's at. We're all here to help each other get through this mess called life. It's hard. We need each other. People are all so darn different - and damn it Shelly - they are all important. Every single one of them.

I care about my family because they've always been there. So did Jodi. Her family doesn't even know. They're on vacation. Man. But I care about my mom. She's always been there. She's always been so wonderful. When I was pregnant she knew exactly what I needed and she gave it to me. She's always known what's best for me and always tried her best to be sure I had it. I've been her off too. I've been solely focusing on Steve - which is acctually solely focusing on Shelly and what she wants.

I don't know.
I don't know what to think.
I don't know what to write.
I just don't know.

I truly believe what a wonderful group this is. Everyone in here is uniquely marvelous. Why does it take such a tragedy to bring about realizations like this?
I will never be mean to another human being.