Today

Today was a bad day. 


Things were way off. 


I realize more than ever that I'm disposable in my workplace...


And I think I need to really kickstart things on my own if I ever want to become a tattoo artist. 


I'm pretty sure I won't be going back into classes for... a long time. 


Everyone is in a sour mood. 


I feel like poop... 


I cannot wait for the 30th. A day of relaxation and fun is much in need right now. I was so excited last night, planning everything and pulling it all together in my mind. I pray that things will wok out, I really do, because if they don't, I don't know what I'm going to do with myself at the end of this month. 


Steven and I tried to think out a game plan earlier today when things started to pitch south. It pretty much came down to the fact that we both need to find a good, stable source of revenue. We want to be happy with what we're doing -- but, you know, we wan to do more than just get by, too. Achieving both seems. really hard right now. I know we'll figure it out. We always have. 


The road is just so damn bumpy.


Despite the fact that we've only been together -- romantically -- for 7 months, we've been through so much. We've been tested by circumstance and by the people around us. We're so freaking close, as friends, as partners, as lovers. The fact that we were close for so many years before this point really helped it along. We learned who each other were, and in the time that we were apart, we figured ourselves out as well. We grew up. A lot. And goodness knows, so many people we knew back then just honestly haven't.  


I'm positive that, to an outsider, it might seem like we're going a little fast, but I believe that we're going at the perfect pace for us. We don't have all of the answers -- we barely have half of the questions -- but we're good at working as a team, you know? We don't look at things as "you" or "I," it's all, "Okay, we need to do this," or "We should do this."


Sigh.


Time to blow off some steam and let dinner settle in my tummy! Have a good one, guys.


I hope you've enjoyed this excursion

just beyond the grey.

Blessed be!

Humbly,        

Shannon Grey

P.S. Also! I'm excited for more than the 30th, actually. I might get to see a close, old friend of mine, Judy, soon! I really hope I can. I think she could really help me out with some of these uncertainties that I have. Here's to hoping!

The Tattoo Company

Whelp! Today I went to The Tattoo Company. 


It was so lax, I didn't know what to do with myself. I read a little bit, drew up a couple things. Not too much, but I kept myself occupied. I got to see some guy getting tribal to cover up a pretty horrible volley ball tramp stamp. That was fun. Drew Mickey Mouse and Charlie Brown fighting... 


Yup! 


That book I was reading. It's been making me think -- which a good book should always do, right? 
I have some personal things that I think I want to write out because of it. They won't be on here, though. Sorry! ):


Speaking of writing, I have some project ideas that I'd really like to get to work on.... 
Thooose will most likely be placed on here, without a doubt. Mhm~.

Well, well, well~. 


I know this was short, but aside from those few things, being so much more in love each day, and feeling pretty damn happy? I've got nothin'. I'll strive to have more to say next time!


I hope you've enjoyed this glimpse

just beyond the grey!

Blessed be. 

Humbly, 

Shannon Grey

P.S. My tummy dislikes eating lately. I really need to get a handle on that.    

Working Lady

Sure is hard being a working lady~.


Whelp, I haven't posted in a couple of days. Sorry about that, guys. Have you missed me much? What've I been up to... Not much, I guess. I've been working on that t-shirt design that I mentioned, sleeping... I had my first bad day at work today! That was fun. I walked part of the way home to blow off some steam. Felt good, save for the fact that the sun is blazing full-on today. 


Steven and I went to McDonald's yesterday. We probably sat there for an hour, talking about schools, human perception, and working in the food industry. I mostly listened. Not because he was hogging the conversation or anything, but because I just don't talk much. I wonder if that ever bothers him? He's such a talkative person and I'm so clammed up all of the time. I'm such an introvert when it comes down to it. A friend of mine back in Texas used to yell at me for it, actually.


He'll probably assure me that it doesn't bother him soon as he reads this. Because I'm a dork and I always think I'm annoying people when I'm really not, haha. My own worst critic. 


I do love talking to people, meeting new people, and working with them, despite my inward tendencies. I suppose that's why I was so bothered at work today. A quiet little voice in the back of my mind has probably been setting me up for this bad day, too, to be honest. See, each day, I go in with a smile and I plan on working the hardest that I can. Then, I do. Then, I come home. I'm tired and I feel so... unfulfilled. I know part of being an adult is doing things that you don't want to do, but this runs a little deeper than that.


I wish I were in school. 


I dove into college, praying I would figure out what I wanted to do with myself by the time I'd finished my AA. Then, everything went wrong, and now I can only hope I can get back into courses by Fall. That's the biggest reason I wanted a job. I wanted to save up money so I wouldn't be so dependent on loans and the like, you know? But, this job that I have, because of my own weakness, just isn't enough. It pays for gas, it takes care of my immediate needs, and lets me have a little spending cash on the side, but once it's all divvied out... Well, you tell me how much 80$ will get you in the long run. 


I'm so much better off than a lot of people and here I am, whining like a baby about how work just ins't fulfilling my wildest dreams. Fck, that's pathetic, isn't it? It's an off day. I swear I don't do this often. In fact, I've been so incredibly happy lately. This is literally one of those few between moments where I feel... bothered, I guess. 


What am I going to do when Summer rolls around? What if I don't get back into courses?


Money is a terrifying thing. I feel so trapped whenever I think about it. If I could get rid of my loans, erase them and start over, I'd feel so much better, I think. It's a small amount -- right now -- but it's still well over what I'd make in 3 months. Add some interest in there -- and if I get back into courses? I'm only pushing them back a little while. They'll only pile up in the end. 


I am so incredibly disappointed in myself for letting life get in the way of my first semester. I don't think I'll ever let myself live it down. School is so important to me. If I could swing being a substitute teacher? Sweetheart, believe me when I say: I'd take it in a heartbeat. To work with others, to watch and help people learn... Grief, I couldn't even do that, could I? The school system here is so completely fcked. What are they even doing in classrooms nowadays? Last time I volunteered at an elementary school, I wanted to kick a wall.


I turn around and I can see Steven napping, his legs pulled up like a pretzel, his arms sprawled about his head as he snores quietly. He's my rock, as the metaphor goes. I can look at him and smile and feel confident again. He -- and almost everyone I know -- believes in me. He knows that I can do good, no matter what curve ball is tossed my way. I have so many people that have all the world's faith in me. I can't believe I let myself forget that sometimes.


I showed that tattoo artist my work I've been doing for Geared to Oblivion. He says he's dying to get me into his shop and make a tattooist out of me. Says I could make some great money. Is it so horrible that I want to ditch everything and run there? Not for the money or for the praise, but because I honestly, really want to do it? I want to be a tattoo artist so badly, it drives me nuts sometimes. These negative voices tell me that I can't do it, that I'm not good enough, but dammit, why? Why am I not good enough? Everyone says that I am except for thos bloody voices, my insecurities.


I still want to be a writer, first and foremost. Being a tattoo artist would be so convenient. It would be the job that feeds my career, but it wouldn't have to be boring or unenjoyable. Not at all. I think I'd be 100% smiles, to be honest. Maybe that's why I have such a hard time believing that it could work out? 


Alright, alright. Comment away, my friends. Have some words of wisdom? Share them, please~.


I hope you've enjoyed this excursion

just beyond the grey.

Until next time~. 
Blessed be!

Humbly,            

Shannon Grey

P.S. I want to cook something, just for the sake of cooking. Maybe bake something from scratch? Cookies? ):

Something Blue

Something old, 
Something new;
Something borrowed, 
And something blue~.


You know. I've been thinking about something. 
I look at television nowadays and there seems to be a "reality" show for just about everything out there. A lot of them can be pretty disturbing, too! But the ones that stick in my mind the most are the ones about marriage. There are women trying to find the perfect dress or the perfect venue, women battling it out for some lofty honeymoon, women torturing their to-be-husbands because they're "bridezillas" and that's supposed to make it okay. they're just stressed, right? Tch... 


I feel like marriage has lost all meaning to a good percentage of the people that want/have it, to be honest. Maybe it has. Television makes me think so. People in general make me think so. Is it really as bad as it looks? I don't want to believe it. The romantic inside of me is screaming no. 

mar·riage/ˈmarij/

Noun:

The formal union of a man and a woman, typically recognized by law, by which they become husband and wife. A relationship between married people or the period for which it lasts.

Alright, so that's the first definition that popped up. Aside from wanting to alter that 'man and woman' bit, that's the gist of the idea, I'd have to agree. But what is marriage? What's its purpose? Somewhere along the way, it seems like it turned into one big pageant or even a cockfight between brides. "Mine's bigger!" Know what I mean? -- And what the fck is with this "bling" crap? -- Don't let me get sidetracked on that. 

What is marriage to you? 

Marriage, to me, is a celebration of love. Let it be between whomever and whatever, I really don't care right now. Anything seems better than the idea of someone putting what should be a down payment on a house into a wedding gown -- then buying a second one for just as much, just so they can have something different on for their smoke-filled, neon-lit gyrate-session of an after party. Adkgnfsoihngf! It irks me so much, yet I can't stop staring at the television when these things come on. I think it's the same effect as a horrid car crash. It's terrifying, but you're consumed by the grotesque imagery, in disbelief and awe. It's not that intense, really, though it's close enough.

I could probably say all of this ten times more eloquently if not for the fact that it's almost 3 a.m...

When I get married, I want it to be small. We'll do the legal work, then we'll find a little spot -- maybe a park or someone's back yard? maybe a little villa with a wide fountain? -- and we'll set up something simple. Some chairs, maybe some flower petals, some candle fixtures... I don't know, the decor honestly won't matter. My dress will be modest, my makeup will be minimal. I'll probably make the invitations with my to-be, by hand or on the computer. Whichever. There'll probably be 10 people there, split evenly between us, give or take a couple.

When it's all done, I'd like to have those ten come back to our place, where I'd probably cook up a nice little dinner. I'd probably get talked into accepting some help, which I wouldn't mind at all. Then we would all sit around the table, the couch, wherever we fit, and talk until our cheeks turned blue. Our guests would go home, and we would finish the evening alone. No phone calls, no internet. Just each other -- and the leftover dishes, haha!

That said, it may not even turn out that way. Maybe my to-be will want something a little bigger. Maybe I'll change my mind about some things. So long as the idea behind it all stays the same, I'll be completely happy. You can be loud, you can proclaim your love from the rooftops and the squares below, but in the end, if you're truly in love, all you'll see is each other, right? That's what's important to me. I want my marriage to be a celebration of our union. Not our wallets, not our achievements. Us. Our love. When I look into my to-be's eyes, I'll see myself there, no thing or no one else -- and they, themselves in mine.  

Sigh~! I miss Steven, haha.

I am totally allowed to think of my boyfriend after something this gushy. Don't look at me like that, damn it!

Welp, I hope you've enjoyed this excursion

just beyond the grey.

I can't wait for next time! 

Blessed be, my friends.

Humbly,                 

Shannon Grey

P.S. Know what spurred this? I totally forgot to mention it in my sleepy little rush. Steven's parents. They're not exactly the cuddly type, but last night, when I went down to ask them something, they were watching television. Holding hands and talking to each other, quietly, their voices disappearing beneath the hum of Auction Wars. Not in a whispering kind of way, but just a gentle, comfortable air had come over them. It was special, you know? Plucked my heart strings, anyway. haha

Ostara

Ostara. 


This is the day out of the year that my sister and I, along with our friend Alex, celebrate the coming of Spring. It's a pagan/wiccan holiday and runs in correspondence with better-known Easter. My sister, Brittany, has made sure to include deviled eggs in our early-dinner-like celebratory meal. Eggs stand for fertility, birth, and growth -- all things that are iconic to this new season, no matter the religious belief. No one can deny that the animals are a little more lovey-dovey about this time, mm? But more than that, Ostara is the balance between the extremes of Summer and Winter; a time where the earth ceases its wobbling and begins anew. Everything is fresh, and green, and ready to be nurtured to its full potential.


Lately, I've been doing a bit of wobbling myself. 


I've just recently moved in with my boyfriend-of-6-months/close-friend-of-6-years due to the... all-consuming void that has become my wallet. I've been pushing it off. The offer was always there, but I just don't like the idea of being a freeloader, you know? I need to be able to at least take care of myself. And we've only been dating for this short amount of time, I would've hated for it to complicate the relationship... Well, when I successfully obtained a job, and other circumstances gave me little choice, it was decided for me. They -- we live with his parents and two siblings -- were moving anyway, so I was just a minuscule addition to the boxed bedlam. 
It's really nice. Not the house -- though the house is impressive -- but the family aspect of it all. A father, a mother. Three siblings. Then there's me, the youngest out of everyone. I feel like the runt of the litter! haha My family situation has always been a muddled mess and this is such a wonderful breathe of fresh air. I'm constantly asking if I can help, or if there's anything I might be doing wrong, or if there's anything I could improve on. The answer is always "No," or, affectionately, "Shut up, kid." Apparently I fit right in. It feels and seems like I do, anyway. No one has told me otherwise and haven't been inclined to think so either. 
Unfortunately, I've always been weak-bodied. I would wake up in the morning for school and spend an hour retching. I would get sick -- and really get sick. I would go outside and come back inside almost immediately, heaving, my back flat on the carpet. I would run up a short flight of stairs and hold my chest at the top, praying my heart would stop pounding and the black veil would disappear from in front of my eyes. It's always been these "little" things that no one can really pinpoint, aside from saying that I'm weak. 
It kills me. It always has. Especially when I would wake up, try to get ready for school, and end up missing my bus, then have to explain it to my uncle, who then would drive me to school. He never yelled at me, but I knew it frustrated him, having to do that. I don't blame him if he didn't believe me when I said I was sick. It was never obvious. I had no proof and whenever I did vomit up enough to show that I wasn't lying, I could still make it to the bus, I had no need to wake him. Besides, at that point, after 18 years of dealing with it all on my own, I'd stopped bothering with trying to prove my illness unless necessary, and instead of attempting to explain it to schoolmates, I would opt out of going places or participating in activities.
I've been called lazy a lot, thanks to these factors. It drives me nuts. My closest of friends have said it and broken my heart with each word, because I know, at least, that I'm not lazy. I try so hard to put every ounce of energy that I can into the work I do. Even when it starts to hit, I'll struggle through it until I can no longer do even that. And then there are those moments where everything seems hopeless, or less important on a grander scale, when I am a little "lazy." They only serve as fodder to the argument, piling up evidence against me in a battle that I have no will to win.
This is something that has affected everything I've ever done. You know, I loved playing baseball, running track, and doing gymnastics. All of those things inevitably dropped out of my life, never to be claimed again. But they were just sports, right? I could live without them. And I have. I still try to remain as physically fit as I can, but in no degree am I an athlete. That's okay. It really is. I never had a passion for that aspect of life as much as I do for writing. But now that I'm out in the "real world," I'm realizing that these illnesses -- my sheer weakness -- makes it impossible for me to blend in. 
The job that I obtained, a position at Old Navy, is too much. I help with shipments, I work the fitting rooms, and walk the floors. It's a lot of standing and constant back and forth but it's not like it's rigorous work. No, no. Yet, I find myself short of breath, hugging my legs to my chest in the bathroom, after two hours of work. This isn't even the busy season! What in the hell am I supposed to do come the holidays? I've had to go home early already, and call in once as well. My manager knows my situation and he's supposed to call me so we can figure out a way around my sickness, but my biggest worry is that we won't be able to.
If I lose this job, how am I going to start saving up for school? My boyfriend and his family would never make me pay for things while I was here, unless I offered, and they really, really needed the help, but I just... I don't want to be a freeloader and I hate not being able to do something when I say that I will. I said I could work the hours that they offered. I said that I could work hard and would work hard. I've been working hard every day that I go in, but then I feel like I'm going to die halfway through. It's so incredibly... hard. Hard to deal with, hard to live with, hard to accept. I want to be able to help the ones that I love and I'll never be able to do that at this rate. 
I don't want to have to call my uncle and tell him I can't even keep a job in retail. Retail, of all things. Folding clothing, for Christ sake. I mean, there's more to it than that, and I'm sure I'm being harder on myself than I should, but it's the freaking truth. How pathetic is it that I can't work for four hours every other day of the week!? 


I'm going to look for other work options, in the meantime. There has to be something out there that I can do.


I can't let my frustrations get the best of me. I'll be damned if I let my weakness get in my way either. I refuse to just coast through life, I refuse to be nothing when I have so many possibilities before me. I want to get back into school, I want to some day have a place of my own. I don't even have a driver's license. I'm just a tumor of existence, sucking off of people's kindness, draining them of their energy. I don't want that. I don't want to be a burden. 
I'm not lazy. I have a drive like no one would believe. I've dealt with things that few people ever have and made it out relatively unscathed. Most importantly of all, they're all things, people, instances, circumstances that are in my past. In no way will they be a hindrance, no matter their persistence. If anything, they'll be a lesson to me. The type of person I want to be, the mark I want to leave on the world, the things that I want to achieve... 


All of the black that has seeped into my memory will only push me further toward the light of each tomorrow.


So. Here's to Spring, to Ostara. I'm on the path to replenishing the good, to balancing and grounding my life, and slowly steeping the darkness out of it, one day at a time. I'm happy, so unbelievably happy, and I want to spread this happiness. Despite all of my frustrations, I know that there's no need to worry. Things will work out, things will always improve. I know things always get worse before they get better, but if you look at it all on a grander scheme, you can see that there's more good than bad. Every little flicker can outglow the shadows, even if only for a split second and that is what truly matters. Even when I think of the people who have hurt me, it's the memories of when we smiled that stick out the most.


I need to be easier on myself, more understanding. I'll make that a goal. To give myself the benefit of the doubt, that calm nod of appraisal when I do something well, and keep myself in check when something goes wrong so that I can learn from it, but not wallow in my mistake or negative surroundings. 
There once was a time when I placed no value in who I was or what I believed in. I was friends with everyone, but had no friends, and let myself be swept about like driftwood on the face of an angry tide, who dealt help and reassurance to each but my own weary heart. I sat with whoever beckoned and promised "forever" with a grim smile too easily. I wondered, every other day, how soon would I leave this earth, and how good it would feel when it was all over. I hurt others as much as I hurt myself in the process, even when I was trying to amend all of my wrong-doings and misleading promises. I don't regret everything that happened in those years, but I regret having caused even the smallest unhappiness, no matter the person, the relationship, or the situation. I could have easily lost all that is important to me now in that time, everything that I cherish today could have been washed away in a sheet of salt. 
I'd like to believe that I've gotten better. I know that I've gotten better. I can only go up from here. I can only smile. Accept that pain only lasts for so long. Live, breathe. Be thankful. Give good unto the earth and hope that someone sends it back around. Appreciate every little thing and expect nothing. 


Sigh. It feels so good to write again. Even if I've said these words -- ranted them out, cried them, thought them -- it just feels so much better to see them in front of me. These words are recorded in a place that they can't easily be removed. I can always remind myself of where I was and where I want to go. Where I need to be.
And that's why I've created a new blog, I think. Yeah. I won't delete my old one, but I will keep it separate from this to show that it was a different time, a different mindset. Between then and now, I've gone through a great transition, one that cannot be reversed or forgotten. I haven't written in that one in so long and feel no desire to do so, but I feel compelled to write in this one. 


I'm excited~.




I hope whoever decides to read this has enjoyed this glimpse 

just beyond the grey.

I don't know what I'll be writing about next, but hopefully it will appear as compelling, if not moreso, to you then. 


Blessed be.

Humbly, 

Shannon Grey