I broked down and had the rest of the coffee sitting in the kitchen since early this morning. It felt like a confession when dad asked me who drank it. "Hi, I'm chuffnutt and I drank the coffee". I added some hot chocolate with it so it would be a po'man's mochaccino, so now my body hair is standing up, like the good ol'days. This doesn't mean I'll be drinking coffee like I use to. I don't intend on gulping it like it were my life source, again. I've fallen off the wagon, but I'll get back on regardless how many times.

T asked me yesterday about tonight's outing to a nightclub for women only. I want to change my mind, but usually if something makes me nervous, that just means I'm being a coward, and I'd enjoy myself, no matter the consequences. There's this fear fantasy that follows: what if some gay basher attacks me, and my parents find out? My dad would have to find out I'm a lesbian like this, and I'd hate myself for not coming out to him in the first place. All these reasons come into my mind for why I should stay cooped up in my room. Many life choices always scare me back there.

I have to make something for my brother and my parents, since I haven't the money to buy anything. These are some of the things making me anxious before Christmas day. I'd rather buy their gifts than make them. I feel so broke, which I always am.

I feel defeated in the hunt for employment. That feeling that the search is fruitless, no matter what my strategy is. I keep thinking that my age and my feeble resume represent me in an unreliable and undependable light. The prospective employers must already have an idea whether or not they'll hire me as soon as I enter the room. Whether I'm pursuing acting or what, the results are the same, and I feel powerless against them. Now, my thinking is how do I go further despite these obstacles? How do I use what I've got to get what I want? How do I win the race despite the height of the hurdles?

If I die tomorrow, at least I pursued most of my dreams, and then some. Most people reason with themselves that what they dream of should be crushed, so they do their conventional jobs, live their conventional lives, then have a nervous breakdown at 4o wondering why they aren't happy and prescribe to an anti-depressant. I've done plays, done some films, done Shakespear, done a puppet play, done most of the things I've aspired to and more, even if I didn't become rich from it. Sometimes I worry that my goals are unrealistic, that pursuing the career of an actor is silly, especially when I'm broke and my dad verbally harasses me. He'll forever try to break my dreams and I'll forever try to pursue them. I fear that he may win. I bet he doesn't think he's doing anything bad. Most of us don't. I see my parents and my brothers and I see people going about their lives unfulfilled: I don't ever want the same lives as any of my family members. My younger brother took up drumming and realized it was hard. Now, he's a mechanic at a car dealership. My older brother played the guitar, regretting never going further with it, and how he's doing some middle management job and looking like Jimi Hendrix gone straight. My dad use to play with his friends in a band, even owning a saxophone and an electric guitar, but those are long gone and he's juggled odd jobs, still in debt and filled with misery. My mom likes to sing now and then when doing chores but works at Wal-Mart and hates being married to my dad. If I saw true happiness in any of them in their jobs, if they were beaming with pride and fulfillment in going to work everyday, I'd have a different perspective on my own choice of employment.

If I had to give up acting, I'd have to do something involving my hands, since they get fidgetty, but they don't fulfill me enough. Arts & Crafts sooth me, but they're pure hobbies for me. I'd rather be an actor. I seem to struggle with this often, just because everything in life is such. I'm always questioning what my wants and needs are, whether I'm 100% sure or not.