Archive for November, 2013

PART TWO: A slightly more detailed look at people that need to specifically be mentioned.

  • Whitney:

I still can’t accept that you’re really gone. It seems like every day there’s something I want to tell you or talk to you about, and I can’t just text you or come over and see you anymore. You were someone I could talk to about anything for hours. I miss that. I miss going to take pictures or run around at the mall, like that day we went to see the last Saw movie, eat Chinese food, and went shopping. I remember trying on clothes with you and just having a good day, where we didn’t have anything or anyone else to worry about. I treasure the memories of that day as some of the most peaceful ones I have. I miss you. I wish that we could’ve had more days like that before you left this world. You were a beautiful soul, and my rock when I was too scared and weak to go on alone. I love you. Thank you for watching out for me.

whit

  • Eric:

It’s a little over two weeks until what should have been your 23rd birthday. I miss you, and it’s hard to believe it’s been 8 and a half years since you died. It still feels like yesterday we were sitting in your room, listening to music and talking, just like we always did. It was a few weeks before you died, and I remember how scared I had felt the 6 months before that – from the moment I found out on Christmas Day, all the way up to that day in June. And I remember leaving, and telling you I loved you and I’d come back soon. But I never did make it back before you died. It haunts me every day. I miss you, I love you, and I couldn’t ask for a better guardian angel. You’re my hero, and where I draw my strength from. I wouldn’t be alive today if it wasn’t for you.

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  • Sam, Jake, John Ray, and Ryan:

The four of you, as well as Eric, were the most important people in my entire world for so long. And I don’t see any of you as much as you deserve. Sometimes it’s because it’s too hard. It’s a shitty excuse, but that’s how it is. I lost touch with John Ray because it hurt too much after his brother died. He reminded me so much of Eric, and I only ever wanted to tell him that I would willingly trade spots with his brother in a heartbeat if I could. I tried to keep up with the rest of you, and sometimes I do, but mostly we just talk online or text or something. I love you all still, but sometimes I can’t handle it. This is something I’ve realized the last few days. I do want to spend more time with you all, but I need to slow other aspects of my life down first. I’m too drained from work and illness to handle the extra strain on my heart and body. I’m sorry. Someday, it will be better again. Sam, we can go get nachos and mountain dew. Jake, we can hang out and watch movies and just be our old selves. Ryan, we’ll stay up all night on the phone talking about everything and anything. I’ll find John Ray someday and try again, but I’m not sure I’ll ever be strong enough. I love you all, and I don’t want to lose you. Ever.

sam

  • Chris, SP, Tori, Kristin, Josh, Kyle, and the ten trillion other friends I miss spending time with…:

I really, really miss you guys. :/

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  • Lillie and Dica:

I couldn’t love anyone more than I love these two. My own children will have a hard time living up to them lol.

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  • Skylar:

My not-really-but-might-as-well-be little sister, my muse, the Charlie to my Patrick. I’m more than happy to have you along on my adventures, big or small. I love you. I’m so glad you’re back from the army because I missed you so much it made me crazy. Good things are ahead for both of us, and you know I will always be right there when you need me. Take the world by storm, kiddo. I wouldn’t expect anything less.

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  • Brittaney:

Everything I have to say to you, you already know. You’re my best friend, parabatai, the Sam to my Patrick, Luigi to my Mario, Frodo to my Samwise, Ron to my Harry. I love you and our adventures and no matter what happens, I have your back chica.

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  • Taylor:

My Mr. J, my favorite, my heartbeat.

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~Angel

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PART ONE – Because I am sick, and tired, and there is a lot to say for some of these and I’d like to give them proper spacing. So, a brief part one.

A lot of people like to post on Facebook something they’re thankful for every day for the month of November, and while that it a lovely idea, it’s not exactly for me. I much prefer my personal tradition of a blog post, something that can be immortalized and referred back to in future months for anyone who wants to read it or needs to, even. Forgive me for any errors made or anyone forgotten, because I’ve been pretty sick the last week or so and I’m still fairly miserable.

  • Simple Things I am Thankful For:

Batman. Breaking Bad. Books. Harry Potter. Adventures. Writing. Art. Doctor Who. Summer nights on the road, windows down and music up. Chinese food. Movie days with my favorite people. Curling up on the couch. My blankets. People that understand. Dreams, inspiration, and motivation. The Boondock Saints. Good memories of people long dead. Being alive when I can think of multiple instances that I should’ve been dead. Hope. Productive insomnia.

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  • Friends:

New friends, old friends. Living friends and dead friends. Former friends and friends I’ve yet to make. Every single one of you meant something to me, or still do. While I may not be around as much as I’d like to these days, thanks to sickness or work or school or whatever… It doesn’t change the fact that I love you all, and wish I could spend more of my time with you. In all honesty, at this point in my life, I should probably be with you all more than be at work. Someday soon, I hope, this will all change. Not all of you have pictures from hanging out recently, but I’d like to change that soon.

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  • Gone but not Forgotten:

Some days are worse than others. Some nights you’re wide awake wondering why you’re alive. Sometimes you have to live the best life you can for more than just yourself. Eric and Whitney, I’m trying. I really am.

our dead

~Angel

BoondockSaintsIt’s no secret that my faaaaaaaavorite movie is The Boondock Saints. I’ve written papers on the techniques used in it for my film class, watched it countless numbers of times, and even have some nifty neato stuff like posters, a canvas print, and a fairly badass lamp. Plus shirts. Etc. You get the idea. This is MY movie.

It also just so happens I’ve gotten to meet the three above individuals (my favorite guys in the movie, too): (from left to right) Sean Patrick Flanery, David Della Rocco, and Norman Reedus. Yes, the very same Norman Reedus that plays Daryl on The Walking Dead. I have hugged the Reedus. He has called me Batman. ALL YOUR JEALOUSY IS UNDERSTANDABLE. lol

BEHOLD THE PICTURE TIME:

1451511_10200315001351295_796098530_nSkylar and I are over-eager and entirely too excited about life.

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Skylar and my Spider-Vans.

1186206_640702062659389_129511697_nReedus photobomb.

1378870_10200241347549996_1680746604_nI signed David Della Rocco’s table, and this is what he added to it. 😀

1393529_10200241329149536_533857585_nSelfies with Rocco!

Now, a bit of story time for you. Some of you may know that some… shenanigans took place on this adventure. Shenanigans involving myself and Sean Patrick Flanery:

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Here’s the story:

Skylar, my mother, and myself took off into Nashville to meet our boys, the first up of the three being Norman Reedus, because we were terrified of Walking Dead stalker girls. While we were waiting,  I eagerly looked around for Norman. Then, something glorious happened. I looked to my left and saw three very familiar faces. I nudged Skylar, who had taken a seat on the floor. “They just walked in,” I whispered. “Seriously, stand up. It’s the boys.”

Skylar jumped up and looked to where I was pointing. Sure enough, there walked Norman Reedus, accompanied by David Della Rocco and Sean Patrick Flanery. My heart was pounding in my chest. This moment made it all worth it, I knew. All of the stress and drama over coming to Nashville, over going on yet another ridiculous trip, was suddenly justified in my mind.

Norman broke away from his pack and walked up to his table, a mass of fans excited behind us cheering at the sight. Skylar and I were shaking while he talked to us before we came up to his table. “I’m going to pass out,” Skylar said. “I can’t believe this is really about to happen – are you seriously staring at Sean Patrick Flanery right now?”

I turned back to Skylar, only slightly embarrassed I had been caught, before returning my attention to Norman Reedus.

I walked up to him first while Skylar tried to compose herself. “Hey, I’m Norman,” he said, shaking my hand.

“I’m Angel,” I said, placing a still shot photo of his character in front of him, followed by a small movie poster.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Angel,” he said. He reached for a sharpie while I reached into my pocket.

“I actually saw you briefly in Chicago, but I didn’t make it up to your table,” I said, sitting a neon green piece of foam shaped like a circle in front of him. “You actually shot me with this.”

To the left, the ammo Skylar was shot with by David Della Rocco. To the right, the ammo Norman Reedus shot me with.

To the left, the ammo Skylar was shot with by David Della Rocco. To the right, the ammo Norman Reedus shot me with.

“Oh yeah! I remember that Nerf gun.” He picked up the ammo off the table. “That’s awesome that you kept it.”

“Not everyone can say Norman Reedus shot them, now I have proof.” We both laughed while he signed my stuff for me. Before I stepped away, he hugged me, and fan girls behind me had a meltdown. I moved out of the way so Skylar could go up to him. She was too nervous to do much other than squeak her name out for him.

“That’s a beautiful name,” he said to her. “I’ve never heard Skylar before.”

When we were walking away, Skylar was shaking. “Norman Reedus just said I had a pretty name.” I patted her on the back and directed her toward Sean Patrick Flanery.

Let me just throw this out there now: I have had a ridiculous crush on this man for more years than I can remember. I didn’t go psycho crazy stalker girl on him or anything, but I could readily admit he was my Hollywood Heartthrob. My heart was ready to explode out of my chest and bounce off the walls from excitement.

When I finally made my way up to him, he shook my hand, and my brain instantly went into ridiculous babble mode. “Hey, I’m Sean.”

“I’m Angel, and this is the greatest moment of my life,” I said. I tried to make it sound a little less creepy by laughing afterwards, but mostly I just tried to keep from staring at his chest.

“Angel, that’s a beautiful name,” he said. “Have you ever heard the song Angel by Jimi Hendrix?”

“I’m not sure,” I said.

“How’re you not sure?” he said, smiling at me.

“Do you realize how many songs have my name in it?” I said. “And how many people show me songs because they have my name in them?”

He laughed and looked down at the photo in front of him. He wrote:sean (1280x1022)

“To Angel:

Angel came down from Heaven yesterday, stayed with me just long enough to rescue me.”

He held the picture up in front of me, “This is the first verse in the song, and my favorite part. It’s a great fucking song. You need to listen to it, alright? Tonight.” I promised him I would. Moments later, we were hugging, and his assistant was taking our picture together, before he generically signed Skylar’s photo.

“He ignored me because he was so focused on you,” Skylar said as we walked up to David Della Rocco.

“I can die happy now,” I said, admiring my picture.

We spent several minutes just talking to David Della Rocco, taking pictures and laughing, before I took Skylar over to wait for Stan Lee. While she stood in her line, I made my way to find my mother, still in the insanity of Norman Reedus fans. By the time she made it out to me, I was eager to see Sean Patrick Flanery again. I grabbed my mother, and toward his table we went.

I’m still sort of lost in the chaos of what happened, because somehow, before I could really grasp what was going on, Sean Patrick Flanery had my phone. That was the only thought I could process at first: Sean Patrick Flanery is using my cellphone. Then it occurred to me what he was saying to me, and who he was calling. “Taylor, right?” he said. “That’s your boyfriend’s name?” I nodded, smiling like the dumbstruck fan girl I was.

Somebody else snagged a photo, not me. I was waaay too busy laughing.

Somebody else snagged a photo, not me. I was waaay too busy laughing.

And then, I could hear him talking to Taylor. On my phone. He was calling my boyfriend, on my phone, and using his Irish accent he used when he played Connor MacManus. With my mother standing beside me, he was yelling at my boyfriend as his character, and saying an embarrassing amount of dirty things he had done and was planning to do with me since my boyfriend let me go off to con alone. Then, he hung up.

Everyone around us was laughing hysterically, and I was blushing brighter than I ever have. Just as Sean moved to hand me my phone back, the screen lit up: Incoming Call. Taylor.

We both dove for the phone, accepting the call in the process, before I finally retrieved my phone and ended the call. “I was going to answer that! It was for me,” Sean said, his grin mischievous. Lost in my girlish crush overload, I finished our conversation up before moving away to call my boyfriend back.

I started out this phone call laughing, still thoroughly entertained by the moment that I just had. But my boyfriend wasn’t as amused, and before I knew it, we were fighting, and my mood was ruined. Somehow, I had reversed the entire purpose of my trip. I went from radiating happiness, to hitting such a low; I only wanted to go back to the hotel.

I perked up long enough that, when I saw the boys a little later for our group photo of myself with Sean, Norman, and David, we all had the chance to joke around about my phone call. The photographer had to get us to settle down, and even moments after we were still goofing off. Sean leaned into my ear before I walked away and said, “I still don’t regret it.”

I told him I didn’t regret it, either.

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The next day, we stopped by the con to say farewell to our new friends. I was long over my bad mood, and accepted that not everyone could say their boyfriend had a personal issue with Sean Patrick Flanery. I downloaded “Angel” onto my iPod and talked to Sean about how much I adored his recommendation. Finally, we started our drive back to reality.

For six hours, I babbled about my Best Weekend Ever, and kept telling my mother that next time – because there will always be a next time – I would be thinner, and it would be better. These were my boys, and I missed them dearly already. I turned the radio up every time my music shuffled back to “Angel”:

And then she spread her wings high over me. She said she’s gonna come back tomorrow.”

At least I got a fancy new Boondock Saints shirt, which was too small when I bought it, but I’ve been motivated to get skinny since then and it now fits 😉

countmeamongthysaintsWhen I raise my flashing sword, and my hand takes hold on judgment, I will take vengeance upon mine enemies, and I will repay those who hate me. Oh, Lord, raise me to Thy right hand and count me among Thy saints.”

So, there you have it ladies and germs. The trip of crazy wonderful-ness. I wish I could explain it better, but it was one of those You Had To Be There to completely relate lol. Anywho, until next time!

~Angel

 stuck
Blackbird singing in the dead of night
Take these sunken eyes and learn to see
All your life
You were only waiting for this moment to be free.

One of these days, whether it’s in ten minutes or 60 years, I will be dead. This is the natural order of things. We’re born, we live, we die. It’s never a fun thing to anyone involved, but there you have it. I like to believe I will have lived the greatest life to my ability by the time that day comes. So, I’m making a list of things I want to do before I die, and I want to achieve them before I’m 35  –  a fair amount of time, really. I’d like to accomplish them all before then with years to spare for a second list. But we’ll see. Some are very serious things, others are a little… silly to some people. But to me, these are some important things. So hang in there with me.

Seven Things I’d Like to Do Before I’m Dead:

  • Finally become a published author. Not for fame or fortune or anything like that ( I understand how rarely that comes out of writing), but rather because I’d like to think there is something there in my words to help get someone else through a difficult time in their life. Books have served as an escape for me all my life, it’s only fair I return the favor.
  • Buy a drink for David Della Rocco. I could easily add extra shiny things to this: Have a drink with David Della Rocco, Sean Patrick Flanery, and Norman Reedus… in the Boondock Saint in New Orleans. But I’m stretching a lot there. Main point is, I admire David Della Rocco quite a lot, and would love to buy him a drink and just converse with him a while about various things. This is a slightly more impossible dream, but who knows.
  • Finally make it to England and Ireland. There is a huge list of places I want to go. HUGE. But I’ve been wanting a trip to England and Ireland both for forever. So let’s get those taken care of.
  • Feel comfortable in my own skin. I’m tired of feeling like I’m some hideous creature compared to literally everyone else. I want to love myself.
  • Make Sean Patrick Flanery proud of me. That sounds ridiculous to a lot of you, I know. But he really is an inspirational guy to me, and earning his respect would mean a lot. He’s one of my favorite actors and my favorite person I’ve ever met. He’s given me the motivation to take control of my life again, and I want him to realize how serious I am about that. I’m the girl with the Jimi Hendrix song for a name. I was a brief few moments in his life, but he was a huge chunk of mine.
  • Help someone else make their dream come to life. I’m a fan of helping people succeed. If I think you can do it, then you can.
  • Live my life as best I can for those that have passed on before me. Alright, this may be a bit rough to do as a ‘before I’m 35’ thing, and has to work until I’m actually dead. But still. I’ve lost too many good people too soon, and I was to carry on for them and live life as best I can for their sake.

 

There are several other things I could add to this, but these are the ones I’ve narrowed it all down to for now. I can work on these things. I’m 23 and have loads of time. But I have to start now. Because in the end, what I want most is to be happy. But I wasn’t born to live an ordinary life in the middle of nowhere. I was put here to do something more with myself and be something more. So, that’s what I’ll do. I’ll try to update as I take scratch these off my list.

Next post, Nashville. I hope.

~Angel

 

Well, I'm 23, but you get the idea.

  Well, I’m 23, but you get the idea.

I’m not going to dive into my Nashville adventure, the final hurrah of 2013, until the next post. Mostly, because I would like to wrap up this idea of the Wanderer, and why this is who I am, before diving into the specific last trip and all that is to come.

I was who I was: the same woman who pulsed beneath the bruise of her old life, only now I was somewhere else.”

I am searching for something, and a part of my soul is convinced I can find it. In my head, I’ll be off on some grand adventure and it will all suddenly be perfect and clear, and all can be well in my little world once more. All because I left and found what I was searching for.

I am also running away. I’ll throw my things in a bag at a moments notice if I must just to get away. Converse to the pavement, foot to the pedal, butt in the airplane seat. Whatever I have to do to be anywhere else. Because someday I hope to outrun myself. I hope to outrun everything.

This is part of my natural desire to keep myself constantly busy, even if I’m overwhelmed and stressed out and ready to cry. I can’t stand the quiet. I can’t handle running out of things to do.

Lately, I can’t even sit still. I have to pace and move. I start to feel like my skin is crawling and I’m losing my mind otherwise. In a way, I’m sure I am. I become angry and start doing things I don’t normally do, or even want to do. I can’t explain this, really. Maybe it’s the part of myself that I’m running away from.

But at the end of the day, I can’t run from myself. I will always be the person that I am, with the past, present, and future all weaving and entangled. I cannot pretend to be anyone else – it isn’t in my nature. I am Angel Young: good, bad, weird, wonderful, whatever. I may keep searching to the ends of the earth for whatever it is that I’m missing, but I will always be the same girl when I’m there.

At the end of the day, be YOU. Weirdo, wanderer, wonderful. All of them. None of them. But be the very best version of you possible. Take care of yourself, and do what makes you happy. Chase your dreams, even if it means you have to do a bit of searching. Nothing is impossible if you want it badly enough.

~Angel

Let me take a moment to explain some of my insanity to you:

People tell me that I’m disconnected from everyone around me. My own boyfriend occasionally tells me that even if we’re in the same room, it feels as though I’m a million miles away. That’s just how I am, I tell them. I’m in my own head a lot. I’m a writer. It happens.

It’s harder to tell them that, especially as of late, I’m usually wishing I was anywhere but where I am. The past few years, I’ve become a recluse that hides away from the regular world. Especially after the start of the Mysterious Sickness of Doom, aka Sjogren’s, started to take control of my life. Between that, and work, and trying to be realistic, a lot of my fire had died out. I’ve become bitter and jealous of the life I was living not that long ago.

Just a few years ago, I was trying to get my first novel published. I had been to New York and met with literary agents, I even nearly had one become my agent. I rubbed elbows with other writers at the Algonquin, went to book signings and releases and had so many advanced signed copies of books from the author friends I had made, that I started doing my own reviews along with other bloggers, leading me to some extra writing gigs. I’d had breakfasts, lunches, and dinners with authors, both New York Times Bestseller’s and Indie writers. All before I turned 18 and started my senior year of High School. I was voted Most Likely to Write a Novel, president of Book Club, and felt like an unstoppable force.

Except that I wasn’t as unstoppable as I had believed, and by the time I was entering my third semester of college, I started to burn out on everything. I wanted to keep my grades up, but I also needed a job, and thought I could magically balance the two out with writing. I did manage it for a little while, until work became my main focus and even school started slipping. Before I knew it, BAM! I was sick, and the rest of my life began to crumble around me. I wasn’t slowing down or losing speed, I had come to a halt altogether.

Just after I recovered enough to return to work, I was already burning out all over again. To cheer me up, my mom and I went to Disney World and Universal Orlando in May 2012, and even though it wiped my energy out, it revived some of my spirit. For a little while, I was starting to get myself back. Yet, just as quickly, it started to fade, because work would eat away at my happiness and I couldn’t find the time or energy or clarity for writing. So I started to do the only thing I knew how to do: I found something useful to do with the money I was making and started planning more things to do.

When I think about it, even though I don’t know the exact moment it happened, that decision was the catalyst. I started out small in December 2012 by going to see Batman Live! and Wicked at the Fox Theatre, both of which stirred up something inside of me that I’d felt after my Orlando trip. I was desperate to hold onto this feeling, and quickly planned a surprise trip to see Wicked again for my best friend and myself.countmeamongthysaints

It didn’t take long for me to be stir crazy all over again, even with my rheumatology appointments keeping me a regular at a few hospitals. So, I went to my first ComicCon in March and met some personal heroes, like Stan Lee, James Marsters, and Tom Felton, to name a few. Again, I was pumped up afterwards, but soon after the excitement started to fade and I was back to the same routine: Work, Sickness. Repeat. I needed something else to distract myself, and so I schemed until I came up with a game plan to go on a real trip. June came, and I returned to Disney and Universal, hoping to reclaim some of that magic that I had the previous year. Packing my bags, heading to the airport, knowing I had all of this excitement ahead – it all revived me. By my last day in Florida, though, I felt like crying. I wasn’t ready to come home. The thought of returning to my previous schedule made me nauseated.

Again, I began to scheme a way out.

Now, by this point, other people were starting to notice I was “blowing” a lot of money. I say “blowing” in quotation marks because I don’t agree with what they’re saying, but they said it all the same. As soon as family, friends, and coworkers learned of my plans to fly to Chicago the weekend before my birthday, I started hearing their concerns:

“Well, Angel, don’t you think you should be saving your energy and money?”

Or, “I don’t understand why you need to run off so much when you never have time for anyone around you.”

I packed my bags, left for Chicago, and ignored everyone else. I had too much to do in such a short period of time; I didn’t care what anyone else said. So I enjoyed a few days of a con, met some more awesome people, went to my first concert, and even went to James Marsters birthday party. For a few days, I was right back at the top of the world. I had a break from being Angel Young, miserable office monkey and Sjogrens slave. I needed that break. Coming back to reality was a slap in the face and I didn’t take it very well at all.

This explains why, before we even boarded the plane to come home, I was plotting one final escape for 2013. I needed one more fix to get me through until the new year of new adventures. Because this is what I am: I am The Wanderer.

Now, I need to slow Story Time down a bit for you, because that final Big Adventure of 2013 needs to be it’s own post. Because seriously, THIS happened:

theboys (1280x935)….But that story is for another day.

The point is, ladies and gents, that I am dealing with a lot of stress, and a lot of self-reflection. I am coming to a clear realization that I am running from something, likely myself, and that I won’t stop running until I feel like I’ve done whatever it is I need to in order to sleep again. No matter what anyone else has to say about it, I know I have to keep packing my bags and searching for whatever it is out there that I need. Because it isn’t here in small town Missouri. It’s out there in that great wide world I love to explore. And since I’m such a big fan of experiencing life instead of just living day-to-day life, it all seems to work out just fine.

So I’ll continue this line of thought another night this week, hopefully, before catching you up on everything else.

~Angel

Not Dead.

Posted: November 2, 2013 by Angel Young in Life

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Please stand by, ladies and gents. Life has been a bit insane lately. New post coming very soon!