It's a Wasteland.

On days when I'm feeling particularly selfish, I try to think of ways I can impact the world in a positive way. Why can't I find some way to make all of my ideas, and my ideals, a reality. That's basically at the core of everything.

When you recycle in Las Vegas, they take your bottles and cans and throw it all together into one big pile, supposedly to be separated at the landfill. At least, that's what they tell people. When you go on the recycling section of the city page it just loops you around in a circle. Six bags of recycling sit in my dining room, waiting to be taken out somewhere. But I'm convinced now that Las Vegas just doesn't recycle.

A couple of my friends and I were talking after work about making a documentary about the problem of no recycling in Vegas. The issues of no community or attachment to anything tangible, even if you try really hard. In thinking that the community here is one that is temporary, a wasteland that people come to to make money and leave. I came here for peace and discovered so much more, and now I'm ready to leave. I got what I wanted from Vegas, and can't imagine investing anymore than that.

This is where I fit into the problem. Of making things temporary. Of creating an idea about a documentary that really should be made, but probably won't in the end. When I was talking to my friend about energy and solar power in Vegas, and how we don't utilize the sun in this crazy city, he simply said, "if you think about it, Vegas shouldn't even really exist." He's right.

My friends and I drove up to Red Rock this past weekend and decided not to drive around the park area because there were too many cars. It felt all crowded and overused. "Vegas isn't that bad," they remarked. In the end, explaining what I've learned and grown from personally by making this move seems trivial. In the end, I feel guilty for living in such a self-indulgent city. When I see all the tourists walking around, gambling and spending, they seem to just want to take from the city this idea that something greater exists. That the world comes to Vegas in all its glory. In order for Vegas to exist, other parts of the world must suffer and go without. And at some point, some point soon, I can't be a part of that.

It's Valentine's Day.

Normally, I'd be happy about Valentine's Day. In fact, we had all these events in the store today and all in all I had a pretty good day. My friend from Kentucky texted me from the airport in Cincinnati that she was on her way and I told her I'd pick her up from the Vegas airport around midnight. That we might be going out with some of my friends to a battle of the sexes poetry slam in Caesar's Forum Shops. That doing that was enough of a welcome to Vegas.

Instead of that I get a text after yoga class that her flight got delayed and she'll be missing her connecting flight so she probably won't be able to make it out to Vegas this weekend. I cry right there in the yoga studio with my two friends who I met up with...because I really needed her to visit this weekend and I'd been looking forward to it for months.

So instead of going out I just took a bath and now I'm sitting here, stewing about how much I miss my friends and the east coast. Instead of investing in the amazing friends I have here I'm deciding on feeling sorry for myself tonight. Because that's just what I want to do.

Even though he's moved back across the country we still talk every so often. We sent each other Valentine's Day gifts but haven't been able to get a hold of one another all day. I find myself not wanting to talk about it to anyone because after not seeing him for a month and a half I can't even remember what he smells like, much less how I've been feeling about things lately. At some point I just decided to let things happen and see where it takes me. Loving someone is just something I've never been able to control. And I wouldn't want to, either.

Part of me wants to get out of bed and change into clothes, drive to the strip and hang out with friends. The friends I have here and now. Because I realized today that I have more friends in Vegas than I did in Boone even. And these are great people who I get to see almost every single day. But at some point you can't replace my friend from Kentucky or that feeling I get when I'm around him. But she's not on a plane on her way here and I'm still sitting here, waiting to see if my legs will move me to some kind of decision.

May it Always Be

We spend so much time (at least, I do) trying to live in the present. Going to yoga, relaxing, sitting and thinking, painting, waiting in traffic. It's all right here. All in all, things are pretty boring right now. And I kind of like it that way.

I've really started to like Las Vegas for it's energy, even though it's pretty quiet right now and even though on my way to and from work I see at least one accident each way. I passed by one today at the exact point where I got into mine a month ago. And it really didn't seem that long ago, especially from the feeling I get when the car in front of me slams on their brakes.

I tried for a very long time not to make decisions based on money, and last week they caught up to me. Because I quit my job last year I basically get nothing back from taxes even though I paid a ton (where do they go again?) and with the taxes on my new car plates I can bearly make rent. I have a friend who is moving here who might take over my lease, so I'd be free to leave whenever I want. Or at least find a temporary place while I'm still in Vegas. But I'm at the point where I don't want things to be temporary again.

I really have nothing to write about. Things are just keepin' on.

Out with the old...

For awhile I seriously thought the worst thing in the world that could happen to me would be to get into a car accident. Thinking: I have no friends out here in Vegas, the people are mean, and my health insurance is still in paperwork form. And I figured I had at least three or four more months with the Honda.

I have to admit I freaked out a little bit. While trying to get from the middle exit lane to the side of the road on a busy highway I wondered where my phone was. That I needed to call my dad and get him out here immediately to help me. That I'd just smacked into someone who hit another car and the honda was smoking on the side of the road. I called one of my friends from work who came right over to help me. Without question, she was there for me.

Maybe things happen to test you to find out a different perspective on a place. I've heard horror stories about car accidents in Vegas. But everyone was nice and supportive, including my dad. When I called crying, yelling that I hated Vegas and just wanted to come home, that I'd had enough of this place, he reminded me of my goals and how self-destructive it can be to not be completely present while living in a place. That North Carolina will always be there.

My parents helped me buy a new car. I explained to the dealer that I was going to pay them back each cent and that I wasn't that kind of daughter and that I really, really wished I had the money to do this on my own but that I've got this new job that I love but it's not the best pay but I'm really good at budgeting and just happy to have parents who will help me negociate for a new car after I've wrecked the old one. When I was fifteen I backed that exact car into a tree in the driveway. My dad calmly understood that it was a mistake but my mom was really upset with me. This time, she just reminded me why she wanted me to get my health insurance at work all taken care of. I think I just assume my parents will never change despite everything that happens in a day. Despite it all.