Bad Mood

I am really tired. I don't know why. I'm also really unmotivated to change my clothes and go to bed. I'm in a really bad mood at the moment, so be glad you're not here with me. I'm not sure where this mood came from, but it's not very nice. Sometimes I think I should just stay in bed for the day.

So I guess my day started out pretty good, but then one thing happens, then another, and another, another, another, and so on, until it's midnight and I'm so irritated I'll scream if anyone talks to me. On the way home, I saw a car weaving all over the lanes of the highway and I saw him go around me and knew he couldn't squeeze between me and the car next to me. For a moment I hoped he would just swerve into my car so I could forget about everything else that's going on (or not going on) in my life right now. But he didn't. So here I am. At home. The place I should feel comfortable, and right now, the only place I don't want to be. I debated begging a friend to stay at their place just to get away from the hassle of my house, but I resisted. Mostly because I figured I would get rejected. I couldn't even come in the front door tonight. I had to go through the backyard. Plus, my bathroom has no sink, and in the process of removing it, dirt and other unidentifiable "grit" has formed a layer of yuck all over the inside of the bathtub. And they're coming back tomorrow.

And then there's this friend that can't seem to cut the cord to her cell phone, but can also never seem to manage to pick up the phone when I call. I don't understand what can't wait for two hours, why those text messages are so much more urgent than anything else, why I'm waiting in the parking lot for her to finish her call. I also don't understand why she is always running late for pretty much everything, or why she says I'll call you when she has no intention. Why she lies and says she has to go to the bathroom, but really has to hit the speed dial with what has become a trigger finger.

And then there's other stuff that I realize throughout the day about this same person I follow around all the time, and I try to let it roll off, but it really doesn't want to. It wants to stick to my ribs like the pancakes I used to eat in Libby Hall as a freshman. At his house, a girl's pair of flip flops I've never seen before, left at the back door as if the owner might live there, or at least visits frequently. A pink hair implement (curling iron?) left in the "other" bathroom, standing out against the pearly white of the tile. Things that are clearly not his. Things that weren't there before. Things he's not telling me about.

There's the leftovers we shared. Leftovers that are a bit questionable, with skins on eggplant that looks more like mackerel, but it tastes ok so it's fine with me. I know the restaurant it came from, and I know who likes to eat there. He tells me when he got it, I remember that day, the day I was sitting here waiting for him to call for a celebration and my phone remained silent. Because he celebrated with someone else. The owner of the foreign objects? Perhaps. My guess is yes.

But really, it doesn't even matter. I can't get mad, because it's none of my business. Which is why I don't ask either. Why I didn't want to talk the other day. Because when I talk, I get hurt. When he doesn't talk, I get hurt. It seems like in every scenario, I get hurt. And that's because I am last in a long line of priorities and desires. My sense of import diminishes with every revelation. To know how easily I become small and peripheral. It only takes a second.

No Drama

The good news is I've been putting a lot of thought into my film. The bad news is I'm not putting a lot of actual work into it. Plus I think I'm getting carpal tunnel in my right wrist. And I'm left handed. That can't bode well. Today is a definite beach day; the sky has not one wispy cloud. I'll get the chance to lay on the dirt and sweat; isn't that great? I'll also get away from the construction in my house. That's a definite plus.

I met a cat last night with 24 toes. That's four extra, for those of you who don't know. I thought it was pretty cool. He looks like he's got catcher's mitts on his front legs.

The new addition to the family is supposed to get here on Monday. I really wanted her to come on my birthday, but she didn't, so anytime is fine with me. A date that's easy to remember would be helpful. I won't get to meet her until at least Christmas, so it's all pretty much the same to me.

I'm boring today. No drama to report.

Mental

I had some crazy dreams last night. Mostly about this project I have to do for an art class. Apparently I'm pretty stressed out about it, even though it's going to be fun. But I suppose things that are going to give people a direct insight to my life is somewhat unnerving. How much can you safely show? Not that I don't like talking about myself, but some things are not meant for the public eye.

So I spent last night actually doing work, and today will be spent going to actual class. And doing more work. And having some fun. I need that. I've been sitting here feeling sorry for myself for the past four days and I need to get out of it. I've been in decade number 3 for exactly one week. At this time seven days ago, I was at breakfast with someone I thought was with me because he wanted to be. But the Mimosa and latte and California style omelet was still good, and the walk on the beach was still wonderful and beautiful. Now that I'm official, I feel different, but I can't quite decribe how. I'm sure it's all mental.

Not So Fresh

I almost cried this morning when I heard the grinding of construction tools in my living room. It's so unfair to be subjected to this crap day after day. In retrospect, I should have gone to the beach, but by the time I thought of it, it was too late to go. Maybe I'll make it out there on Thursday.

My not so fresh feelings from yesterday seeped into today. Sometimes it sucks to have a brain. Because the more I think about it, the more it doesn't go away, which isn't helping me to forget about it and move on. But I have definitely hit a hard spot inside of me. A spot that isn't budging no matter how much I pick at it. And I need to stop succumbing to habit, because that is only making my hole deeper as I analyze what I think is going on and really have nothing to go on. So I'm mad and angry and so indignant in a martyr-like way I even disgust myself. Enough.

I have made a pseudo attempt at starting my film, which means I've thought about starting to work on it. Of course, inspiration, much like my period, comes at the most inopportune times when I am busy doing other things and don't really have what I need to deal with it. I just have to hope I remember what I thought earlier when I have the time to write it down properly, with pictures and stuff. And of course, now would be that time, since it is still relatively early in my universe, I'm at home, no one is calling, and I have a minimum of other stuff to do. So what do I choose to do. Blog. Yep, that's right. Because the world will end if I don't spew my guts all over the information superhighway everyday, or even several times a day. God, I'm pathetic.

Not Talking

Today I just didn't feel like talking. Anyone who knows me knows that this is an extremely rare occurence. But they also know that it does happen from time to time, like rainbows and green flashes. I've been in a funky mood all day, bouncing between various thoughts and moods like always. It wasn't until about ten this morning that I realized I had completely forgotten the birthday of someone I can't talk to anymore. It would have been today, and I feel like an ass because it slipped my mind this time. And then I started wondering if he's still paying attention to what I do or if he's playing blackjack in valhalla. I hope he's not mad at me for being such a dope.

I also had a stupid moment of inserting my foot into my mouth with a professor that doesn't talk to me enough to know what an idiot I am sometimes. I'd like to have more opportunities to talk with this guy and know what he thinks of my work, but with today's verbal blunder, I doubt I'll get the chance.

And then there was someone who was apologizing to me for hurting me yet again, and I refused to talk to him about it. I had to. I'm so tired of breaking down into a wimpering mess of tears over and over again about the same thing. It seems pointless to talk about it since he already knows how I feel and nothing I would say would be any different from the last time I said it, and it wouldn't make anything different anyway. So what's the point?

But I'll do it now. I don't like feeling like Plan B. I don't like feeling like I do things and they go unnoticed because he is busy waiting for someone else to call or someone else to go out with. I resent it, actually. I don't like being constantly disappointed when we make plans, then break them, then make tenative plans, then break those too. And then he drags his feet on making new plans. Well fine. I'm not going to beg for him to spend time with me, no matter how much I want to spend time with him. I'm not going to shower him with affection and attention if he's going to be constantly thinking about someone else. Because I don't like feeling unappreciated. I feel like I'm being taken for granted. That weekend getaway with me is not something to scoff at and treat like some stupid obligation that you may or may not cancel depending on whether or not she calls on any given day. I'll just go by myself if that's the way it's going to be.

I'm done talking now.

Idiot

Did I mention that I don't feel so great anymore? I thought I was doing so good with the whole PMA thing, as I blew it all in a second. Less than a second. How did I get so fragile? Sometimes I'm under the impression that I am a strong person and I can do anything, but the truth is that I suck and I'm actually not strong at all. Among other things.

It's late and I'm up thinking about the four walls around me that are getting to be the only place I feel comfortable. Maybe this is how agoraphobia starts. I'm thinking about how tired I'm going to be in the morning and the rest of the day tomorrow and I know it's going to suck but I don't care because I'm busy feeling sorry for myself and I don't have time to worry about that right now.

Sometimes I get the feeling that my life hasn't started yet because of something I haven't done yet, but I don't know what that could possibly be. So I wade through day after day, and when anything different comes along, I get rid of it as soon as possible and opt for the status quo. I'm an idiot. I suppose I'm ok with that. I just wish I was a lovable idiot. An idiot that was important to someone. An idiot that wasn't so lonely.

It's Nothing

Sometimes I feel like I try to be thoughtful and do nice things for other people and my efforts are completely ignored and unappreciated. Or at the very least underappreciated. I go out of my way and spend time and thought and effort, and it doesn't fucking matter. It never matters. Which is why I'm an idiot as well. Because I will never figure out that I should just give up, say fuck it, and stay home because someone else is always going to get the attention I want.

I feel like the red-headed stepchild. The dog begging for scraps from the table. Because someone else is eating there instead of me. I feel like a pseudo-asshole even feeling this way, but that's just the way it goes, I guess. I've tried to stay out of the way and be a good friend, but sometimes there are just too many roadblocks in the way, plus, no one wants to be friends anyway. I make myself available, let people know I care, and when it comes to times they want to be close to the people they care about, I'm mysteriously absent from their minds. Of course, this makes me feel super special, and makes me glad I spent so much time and energy trying to show someone that I give a shit about their life.

So I spent today in a mysterious loop of trying to figure out how to get myself back in order and stop letting other people hurt me with their indifference. And there really is no answer, no matter how hard I try to find it. My instincts tell me to move away, quit school, and sever all ties I have with anyone I know here. Which starts the cycle all over again. I know because I've done it.

So I want to scream right now for being such an easy target, for feeling so ugly, so old, and so inadequate because nothing I do is ever going to be enough. I am always going to come second to pretty much everything and everyone. Whatever confidence I had a week ago has evaporated back into this crap I seem to be constantly trying to evade.

Help!

I have to be at work in seven hours. I have to sleep between now and then. God I hate working in the mornings. It's like walking through fire and then having to do heavy lifting. This job isn't going to last long if they're going to keep making me get up early like this. Eventually I'll oversleep, and that'll be the end of it.

At this time, I'd like to make an open call for suitors for my roommate. Please, if not for yourself, do it for me. A little about her: she's a homeowner, has a good job, a college education, likes sports, and is attractive in a soccer mom kind of way. Her favorite shows are celebrity poker, extreme home makeover, and desparate housewives. She likes movies like Wedding Crashers, Dukes of Hazzard, and Bridget Jones Diary. She does not like "sad" movies. She donates to various charities throughout the year, and is close to her family. She does not speak a foreign language. She does work out.

I don't know why she has such a difficult time getting men; something tells me it's mostly because she works an insane amount of hours every week. I am now beginning this crusade because she really needs to get laid before I choke her. She is becoming increasingly bitter, and has recently started to be supremely bitchy for no reason. She's judgemental and catty, and has starting addressing me with what I can only describe as a "term of endearment": Bitch. As in, yo, what up, bitch. I can't say I really appreciate being called by this name.

She has become increasingly critical of my life, even though it is none of her business and has nothing to do with her. She doesn't like the men I hang out with, the classes I take, my friends, my financial status, my aversion to cooking, and the fact I haven't cleaned this house that has been under construction since mid-August (not that she has either). She also has no sympathy for the fact that I have endured daily interruptions in my life due to her quest to have the nicest house in the neighborhood. These are interruptions that include machines grinding concrete, workmen showing up at random times (i.e. when I'm in my pajamas and my hair is uncombed), and miscellaneous hammering. She seems to have adopted the attitude that I deserve to be woken up at 8 am every day because I must be lazy since I don't work 80 hours a week like she does, and I am quite content to spend a day without leaving the house. I must do nothing since I am not exhausted all the time.

So you see, this girl needs to relieve some stress. She also needs someone to pay attention to besides me. Because right now, it seems like I can do nothing right. If you were to ask her, she would probably tell you that I am the most annoying person she knows and she would kick me out of the house if she could afford to. If she doesn't find a man soon, she will systematically alienate every single one of her friends until there are none left for her to talk to. Which will be unbelievably tragic.

Anyway, your help is appreciated. Act soon, before it's too late!

Cause of Traffic Jam: Plane Crash

Cause of Traffic Jam: Plane Crash
Originally uploaded by ocean1000.

The Morning After

So I used my birthday to make lots of wishes and think good thoughts. And I can't really complain, because for whatever reason, I'm the most comfortable in my life that I've been in a really long time. Pretty much since I can remember. But I still have problems and I still feel bad about some things and I know my life isn't perfect.

But at least I don't live in Houston anymore.

I don't go to bed at nine pm, either. I can still party, but not so much like a rock star. More like a princess, with fancy wine and champagne sitting at the head of the table with a tiara and waving at everyone who sees me. No thrashing of hotel rooms. I guess age has made me a little more demure. But I still stay up late. And I still shove my cell phone into my fancy little clutch purse and don't know how to get it off of speaker phone mode. So things are pretty good.

My horoscope said I would turn into a butterfly by February, which I'm not sure about. That would mean the next few months will be spent as a slimy caterpillar. Which I'm not sure is accurate. But I suppose its all relative. It's a little weird to feel old and satisfied, as if the angst I've been carrying around for so many years just got misplaced and now someone else is stuck with it.

This sounds like someone else. I'm a little puzzled about the absence of the sad stuff I've been writing for such a long time. It seems so abrupt and non-tangential. Because nothing has really changed. I still live right on the poverty line, still have no career, or direction, still love someone who won't love me back, still believe spinsterhood is my destiny, and still wonder if I should get back into therapy. It just seems like it doesn't matter all that much anymore. Maybe I've given up on having the perfect life. Or maybe I've seen the perfect life doesn't exist. Or maybe it's not so perfect after all.

It's mysterious.

Goodbye, Twenties

These are the twilight hours of my twenties. They are slip sliding away quietly in the night, never to return. I'm feeling my age. My stomach hurts, I have cramps, a headache, and a strange sniffle that is just enough to be annoying. I'm a little short on direction in my life, which makes me sad. But it makes my parents sadder.

Oddly enough, this is usually the section where I lament how terrible my life is, but I'm just not feeling it at the moment. I guess I'm mostly ok with things right now. I'm enjoying my classes, my job doesn't suck completely (yet), and I do stuff that I like and that I want to do. I've got good friends that talk to me and listen to me and want me to be happy and call me up when they need a laugh. I'm not in any trouble: financial, physical, social, or emotional. (that I know of) So I guess I'm pretty comfortable. Which is more than I can say for some of my other years (age 25 comes to mind).

I live in a beautiful part of the country; everyone back home gets jealous whenever I mention the beach. I can't afford real estate here, but that's ok, because I can't afford it anywhere. I'm not married and I don't have a boyfriend, and that makes me a little sad because my little clock is ticking and starting to be more vocal about the fact that I'm not getting any younger and no one will want me when I'm older, fatter, and saggier, and ending up a spinster is my single greatest fear in life. But again, at this very moment, I'm not feeling the pain of being unwanted or uninteresting or unattractive, and I don't know how to explain why. I guess I don't really know why. Maybe because a big fat zero will be added to my stats tomorrow, leaving room for other stuff. Because when there's nothing, you can only add to it. Nothing else can be taken away. Wednesday, the middle of the week towards the end of the year, everything winds up again and starts a new decade for me to fill with stuff that will eventually be known as "my thirties". Goodbye, twenties.

Mean and Creative

Today I tried to be creative. I suppose I was a little bit successful. But right now I am butted up against a feeling of complete stupidity because I have hit a spot that isn't very fruitful. I don't know why.

Today is my bro's birthday. I'm a jerk because I don't know off the top of my head how old he is. Thirty-four? But I do know what my exact age will be on Wednesday. Yes, I'm self-absorbed. Yes, I'm annoying too. And lately, I've been wrestling with the particularly troublesome idea that I'm not a nice person. That I'm mean. I don't think I'm mean. I try not to be mean. I try to be nice to people. Most of the time.

I guess I'm not very successful. Again, my creative block is wreaking havoc, and I don't know how to put into words exactly what I'm feeling about this predicament. Or what I should do about it. Because people don't really like wiping the slate clean or giving second chances. They are into holding grudges and getting revenge and doing unto others and so forth. Which means that if I have been mean to anyone, I'm out of luck. Even if I never meant anything by whatever I may or may not have done or said. Fuck.

By the way, what's up with internet dating? Does this really work for anyone? Or is eHarmony completely full of shit?

That's all for now.

Updated Rants

So I beat whatever bug was crawling up my nose, got my car back, and now I'm living with an indoor muddy swimming pool instead of a living room suit. And my landlord/roommate has not been around to tell me what the fuck is going on, or even call me back after yesterday when I called her. But I'm not bitter. I'm just tired.

I had to work today at a time when most people haven't even gone to bed yet, and I don't like that. I stopped to pick up a bite to eat and was the only sober person there. That's just not cool, when you think that these are the other people that are on the road today. I have also discovered that charity people have a snobby self-righteous way of being extremely rude that really irritates me.

I'm sad that the birthday extravaganza slated for next weekend has been abruptly postponed (yet to be re-scheduled), partially because now I'm going to have to work, which means sweating more than I'd like in a long sleeve shirt that rubs my neck in a particularly unpleasant way. Because as I've mentioned several times already, I'm just not cut out for working. And that's just one more reason.

I've got a mountain of stuff to do, and I don't feel like doing any of it because work has exhausted me so. I also had a mountain of work disappear yesterday, but I'm actually kind of sad about that because I was looking forward to the experience and money it was going to throw my way, in spite of its being a heavy load on my schedule. Maybe next time, they said.

I feel trapped in this tiny room of mine with nowhere to go; the backyard gate is locked, the floor is sticky, and the water is reflecting some sorta calm that isn't coming from me. I hate this fucking home improvement bullshit more than I can fully express. I want a normal house back, one that doesn't get me high from fumes, one that my shoes don't stick to, and one that allows me to get to the refrigerator without a hazmat suit. Why can't people just be satisfied with what they have???

Stupid Life

Sometimes life just dogpiles on top of you and there's no way out of it. There is no pacing, no sense of 'when you're ready', no mercy. And this is no exception. My house is in a state of chaos, with random people coming and going at random times, ripping things up and putting them back in a different place. My car has fallen apart, and I'm now haggling with the repair guy to try to figure out how things got so fucked up and so expensive. My body has retaliated, giving me a disease I have been fighting for a few days now, stuffing up my ears so that my already questionable listening skills are even further thrwarted.

How does this happen? I've been forced to call in all of my favors in the span of two days from friends who would probably prefer I keep to myself more than I do. I am unwillingly annoying, because I would like to be able to stay out of everyone's way, but with no house, no health, and no transportation, it makes things a bit difficult. I don't like being a burden. And I know that I am. I hate it. I feel like a jerk. I feel helpless. It sucks like nothing else.

One thing at a time would be preferable, as I might be able to handle things a bit more independently and a bit more gracefully. But this is not the life I planned for anyway, so it just figures that it would do things in the most damaging way possible. Stupid life.

Frustration

I'm frustrated. With everything and everyone. And it pretty much started yesterday and lasted into today. I found out last night that the construction guys were coming early this morning, which was tres inconvenient for moi. It just figures that they wouldn't be able to come on a day that is actually convenient, because the next day they are scheduled to grace me with their presence is also inconvenient. If only I was rich and could stay at a fancy hotel instead.

I'm frustrated with people that I feel aren't listening to me. Which is most people right now. And they twist everything I say and do around so that I am always in the wrong and there's nothing I can do about it. I can be a little slow sometimes when people say things to me, so it might be two days later before I have an actual reaction to something someone says. But by then it's too late and there's no point in mentioning it because I will be wrong on two counts; whatever I say will be wrong, and the fact that I brought it up will be wrong. I can't win. If only two wrongs did make a right.

There are things that I will never ever ever understand about my life and my emotions, and there are things that I will never be able to control or change no matter how much I want to. These are the things that will continue to affect the way I do things and the decisions I make in my life. It is frustrating to see your life crumbling before your very eyes, time after time, and not be able to do a damn thing about it. It is frustrating to watch yourself fuck up repeatedly, as if there really is no such thing as free will and you are destined to be loser forever, no matter how hard you try not to be.

Because you will never finish the things you start, no matter how close you get to finishing them, people will always abandon you at the exact moment you think they will be there with you forever, and just when you start to get comfortable, you will be cast out onto the street with all the other riff-raff. In short, nothing and no one is dependable. That is an adjective that should be reserved for cars and kitchen appliances.

Pet Peeve

Let me tell you about a certain pet peeve of mine. I hate it when people don't call back. I hate it when people say they are going to call and then don't. I hate it when I feel like I'm being ignored.

And what is one supposed to do when this happens? I must admit, I'm at a loss. Especially since it is a friend that has comitted the offense and I am pretty offended. I don't appreciate feeling like I am only a friend some of the time when it is convenient for her. I don't appreciate being ignored at all. Plus, with the internet being the devious spiller of secrets when one is not careful, I know that this should not be happening. Other people are getting attention and things are going just fine. But suddenly, I've been moved to the "do not call" list, or at least the "call when you know she won't answer" list.

It fucking pisses me off. I deserve better treatment than that. Way better. But I know that it is close to impossible to confront someone about something that seems so trivial, yet is so important to me. I know that I will get a giggle and the brush off because no one ever really listens to what I'm saying anyway. Plus, if I'm not considered a good enough friend to actually talk to, what difference would it possibly make?

It's actually ridiculous that in this day and age of being able to communicate via various pathways, that some people still find it impossible, and also think it's acceptable to treat others as if they are not important whenever the mood strikes them.

So I'm in a bad mood today. And probably tomorrow too.

What I Don't Know

I didn't leave the house today. I'm ok with that, except I haven't accomplished as much as I should without distractions, and all I want to do right now is drink some wine, but I won't because I can't finish the bottle and it's no fun to drink alone. My greiving girlfriend is not returning my phone calls, and I can't help but be hurt and a little irritated because I'm trying to be there for her and she's not letting me. It makes me feel like she doesn't think I'm able to be a good friend or something. And like I'm not a part of the in crowd. As usual.

Lately I've been feeling really unattractive, and I don't know why. I don't know if it's because I've seen what I could look like, but don't, or if it's because I don't get enough attention from aquaintences and strangers, or if I've just been watching too many commercials, but I don't feel like the alluring person I should be. I don't feel all that smart, or popular, or cool, or funny, or witty, in addition to not feeling sexy or pretty. I just don't know how to do it.

How do other people do it? Do they just not worry about it and end up that way? Do they work at it? I found myself at work the other night listening to a woman about my age talk about her husband and blah blah blah. And all I could think was how does she get someone and I can't, not even for a little while? She's not prettier than me, or nicer, or smarter, that I can tell. But apparently, she has someone waiting for her to get home every night, someone who can't sleep without her there, someone who wants to see what's going to happen tomorrow.

I can't even get a guy to look at me or talk to me, much less want to know what happens next. I can't figure out what's wrong with me. If I'm so great, why am I so alone? There has to be something that people aren't telling me. Something I don't know about.

L'Avventura

I wonder if there's any coincidence that the Italian movie of the month (according to my Italian Movie Calendar) is L'Avventura. I wonder if they did that just for me. A woman disappears in her own malaise on an island, never to be seen again? And her friends just eventually stop looking for her? I can't help but feel like this is there for a reason. Like someone knew it was me and this month is mine and I am all about malaise at the moment, especially since some jackass bartender girl in high heels and fishnets asked me how old I was yesterday. I wanted to smack her. Stupid girl.

I'm wondering how long this malaise will last. Maybe forever. Maybe until tomorrow. But I do find it interesting that malaise tends to help me get my work done. I have nothing else to turn to, so I throw myself into that. There are no distractions when nothing excites you. And when you excite nothing. So I'm sitting her in The Middle, remembering what it is like to be a woman, feeling like my eyes are going to shrivel up like raisins, wanting something but not knowing exactly what it is. Just knowing that it is different from what I have right now. Wondering if it was something I had this summer and got rid of. Wondering if it's something I haven't even seen yet. Wondering if it's anything I'll actually be able to get.

So I wander.

Geek

I'm still tired, even though I took the mother of all naps. My eyes are still burning with the pain of messed up sleep and my throat is hurting from too much awake-ness. I'm a little bit depressed, but not enough to really be bad. Just enough to be unsociable and upset about it at the same time.

I have this strange feeling whenever my friends do things without me; a feeling of not being wanted or needed or just not invited. In particular, I feel a strange tone come over certain friendships when I am not wanted. It's a feeling that things are not being said, or shared, or whatever. Like too much information might be given if another word is spoken. It reverts into a parental 'we'll see' type conversation that is incredibly disconcerting and annoying. If you want to be alone, just say so. But I get the feeling that sometimes people are waiting to see if something better comes along before they decide to hang out with me. Like I am a last resort.

I feel a strange distance come between us that I can't quite nail down into actions. It's just a mood of conversation. I guess I start to feel like people are tired of my presence. Like they wish they had more friends so they wouldn't be forced to hang out with me. So I feel yucky, but not that yucky, because this always happens no matter what. I expect people to tire of my company. I just don't expect it as often as I get it. Am I really so tiresome? Are the things I say stupid or boring or trite? I try not to let them be, but sometimes it just works out that way. Am I 'a handful'? I suppose this always reminds me of when I was in high school and couldn't quite break into the popular crowd, but never knew why. I don't see the difference between them and me. I still don't, but I do see when people don't really want to hang out with me and don't give me any reason or warning. I suppose I'll live. Being a geek is just the way I am.

Happy Little Accidents

Of course, I need to go to sleep and I'm wired. But have no fear, Red Wine is here. After a glass, I'm hopeful I'll drift off into Never-Never Land until the butt-crack of dawn arrives and I have to get up. Man, I'm not cut out for work. Or really much of anything.

I'm taking this dance class that should be fun, if my body cooperates. So far, my back has lodged a pretty loud complaint. And I haven't even started. Stupid back.
Always out to ruin a good time. I found myself amazed that while the prof was lecturing, I completely lost my concentration because of a car alarm right outside the studio. Now, remember that this is a college campus, and that the nearest parking garage is at least half a mile away, and it gets a little irritating. The next little tidbit is that all the ROTC offices are right in that vicinity (dance and the military, they go together, don't they?). If you do a little elementary deduction, you'll come up with some asshole with a gun who apparently can get through an entire obstacle course of ropes and tires, but can't walk up a hill to his office. And he's disturbing my learning (how cliche), AND making me look like an idiot because I have to ask her to repeat whatever it is she just said about architecture and originality and hanging. Or something like that.

Today was also my first day in painting class that we actually started painting, and yes, I suck. Who knew a candle and a tea cup would be so tricky? Still life is so boring. But I did my best and finished one and four-fifths paintings. True to form (of being good at stuff that isn't important), my best skill is mixing the paint. I can't help but think of Bob Ross as I see happy little this and happy little that. A girl in the class asked me if I'd done this before. I'm a bit shy around strangers, so I just said no, not really, instead of are you kidding?! look at the crap I just cranked out and decide for yourself! She was surprised because she said I looked to comfortable with the paint. Ok, here's something to know about me:

I don't fuck around.

I dive right in and do stuff, and as a result, end up looking brave at times, and foolish at times. And trust me, the more mistakes you make, the easier it is to make more of them. Wait, that didn't sound very hopeful....But you know what I mean. No one wins the (ahem) Cy Young by sitting on the bench. But as I told her, Bob Ross' line is my mantra: There are no mistakes, only happy little accidents.

I like happy little accidents.

Doldrums

It seems like with the beginning of school, confusion is the order of the day. I can't seem to keep things straight in my mind. I don't know if it's an early onset of Alzheimer's, or just too much laying around doing nothing this summer, but I look at what I have to accomplish every day and only see a cloud of time that wafts from place to place. I have to make lists to survive. I wish I were more on top of things; it feels like everything is getting done by the seat of my pants and I don't like that. I like knowing exactly what I have to do rather than feeling a constant nagging in the back of my brain that I'm forgetting something.

I hit a patch of funk yesterday when I was in the shower. I felt like I was being drained of something, but I can't really tell what. But it feels like part of me is gone. Like I'm settling into a life half lived. There's no one thing to point to as a cause, but it's there, making me sleepy and keeping me up at the same time. Is this what it will be like to be thirty? I feel as though my life has slipped to the floor and is skulking away with its tail between its legs. 14 days left. And then I will hit a milestone that says 'you are here, and boy have you not gone anywhere'.

I want to have good things happen to me, but it seems those things are just out of my reach. Close enough to taste, but not close enough to eat. I suppose I should clarify that I'm not sad and depressed, just empty. Like I'm simply without something that's supposed to be inside me to help my life be propelled forward. Like a little propellor that keeps the ship going. I don't have it, so I'm stuck in the doldrums of nearly thirty and no land in sight.

Drinking Water in Hell

Ok, I give up. I'm not very good at keeping things to myself, because they sit inside me and stew until I'm ready to explode. So I have to indulge in some Bitching for My Soul, so I don't lose it even worse at a later date. Bear with me.

There's this woman that a friend of mine is friends with. There has always been friction between us for some unknown reason. Recently he said it was because she doesn't like to share him, but you would think an adult woman would've learned how to share by now. Anyway, at one point he said he would like it if we could be friends, I'm assuming because he would like to be able to do things with both of us and there not be tension or weirdness or whatever. I thought about it for a while, and realized that it is no fun when your friends don't get along, so for his sake, I would make an attempt to be nicer to this woman whenever I saw her and be nicer about letting him talk about her with me.

I saw her two days in a row, as the three of us visited the beach, one of our favorite places. I turned up my sugar-on-top attitude and determined that we would get along. She, apparently, had no inkling of the sort. She pretty much refused to talk to me, or participate in a conversation if I was participating. On the second day, she even refused to be in the same room with me for even five minutes. And again, refused to speak to me. Not even small talk.

I have to say that this kind of treatment, in my book, falls under the category of "rude", not to mention that it made me extremely uncomfortable and yes, even hurt my feelings a bit. It's like being snubbed by the homecoming queen or something. But I kept my mouth shut because I'm trying to foster good feelings and not be the catty bitch I usually am, or the snot that she was clearly being.

But then, my friend and I hung out without her one day, and over a fantastic dinner of Mexican food, he seemed to have her on the brain, as he could not stop talking about her, how cute she was, how she's right about everything, and how much of a burden it must be to be perfect like she is. To have to see how everyone else is wrong. I wanted to scream, but still, I kept my mouth shut. And I'm still keeping my mouth shut, stewing over the whole thing.

I suppose I can live with her being a complete brat; I can live with him talking about her, exalting her like she's perfect and wonderful and amazing. But I do have to say, that when he compared her to a close friend of mine, I had to interject. "they're a lot alike", except my friend is nice. He didn't say anything, but he did give me the look of death. The other part that really bothers me is that it seems like he always takes her side. Now I know I don't know what happens when I'm not around, I don't know what they talk about, but I feel like I could use some defending after the way she treated me. After all, I seem to recall a time previous when she complained to him that I "was giving her a bad vibe", and he promptly chewed me out, saying I should be nicer, when I had done nothing--and he had even been present to witness the fact that I had done nothing. But where is he now when she actually has done something to make me feel bad and uncomfortable? Is he on the horn telling her what a mean person she is? That she made someone feel bad when she didn't need to? That she was acting like a spoiled brat and no wonder she doesn't have any friends if this is how she acts all the time?

I seriously doubt it.

Especially because all he's done since that incident is sing her praises and say how sorry he is that she has man troubles and that he thinks she is "attractive". It's almost like he is trying to sell me on her, when she already blew it. She was mean to me. Am I supposed to befriend that??? Or am I just supposed to sit back and allow her to make me feel like shit because he thinks she is perfect?

I want to be defended. I want to feel like my efforts were duly noted. I want a glass of water.

Imaginary Friends

Sometimes I get sad that I don't have any virtual friends. People don't read my blog and say 'right on, sister', or give opinions, stupid or otherwise. I wouldn't say I really mind; it gives me a kind of freedom that one has when one knows no one is watching. Like being able to pick my butt without having to be sneaky about it. But I do get a little lonely.

Granted, I have a couple (two, exactly) friends that do actually check up on me from time to time, but that's not the same. I'm talking about people that are reading just because they found something that caught their eye(s) and got interested. I'm talking about people that don't really know me but feel like they do when I talk about the innerworkings of my private life that most people in my actual life don't even know about. I imagine it would feel like having a little voice on your shoulder to tell you that you are awesome, or that you suck, or both, or everything in between, or something completely random that has nothing to do with you. But I don't really know.

No Rest for the Weary

I'm tired but not sleepy. I haven't had enough sleep, but my body is used to waking up, so I'm up. Sometimes I wish I had normal problems like normal people, but that doesn't happen. Lately I've been looking at my schedule every ten minutes to try to figure out if I can fit everything in. It all starts with one thing, and the next thing I know, I'm booked so solid I have to schedule my bathroom breaks. And because it's school, it will only get worse later. September and October will be disgustingly busy. I'll need at least a week grace period to return phone calls.

Seriously, I'm not complaining. It's definitely a big change from what I've been doing all summer, so it will take some getting used to. It's actually a windfall of good things that are keeping me busy, from a new job to pay the bills, a new job to have fun, classes to get dirty and work hard and do fun stuff, and actually doing pretty much what I want to do instead of what someone else wants me to do. Which is what really makes me happy. I get stubborn about other people's tasks.

In other news, my house looks like a war zone because of the ongoing renovation. I will never understand why one would spend half a million dollars on a house, and then immediately go about "fixing it up". Granted, I'm not complaining about having a nicer house to live in when I don't have to pay for it, but at the moment, my bedroom is the only real safe place to be. Most of the house has been reduced to a mere slab. It sure will look pretty later, though.

Changes and Possibilities

I slept in today. Really. Almost till noon. Even for me, that's a lot. But I was up late last night, plus I was tired from the days exertions. Yes, school is definitely an exertion. But lately I've found myself getting along more easily with more people, and that makes me happy. I don't know exactly why, but there are more people that I don't feel threatened by, more people that I'm willing to talk to, fewer people I'm avoiding. And as always, I am able to see the idiocy of my own actions. I am more willing to let things other people do slide. I take apologies. Gladly. I strike up conversations.

I can't say I've ever been shy. Quite the opposite, actually. But I can say that I often feel uncomfortable around people I don't know very well, which makes me seem like a total bitch when I look around like a convict and constantly shift my feet and bury my hands in my pockets. I'm a strange bird, no question about it. But at least I'm not as strange as I've known myself to be in the past.

I don't know where the change has come from. Possibly the excitement of new things around me. Possibly the loyal friendship of a woman that makes me feel like I'm part of something, and much younger than I am. Possibly the acceptance of someone I've always cared about that makes me feel like I have nothing to fear, nothing to defend. Or it may just be me growing older and (gasp) more mature. But I doubt it.