"And I do this to remind me that I'm really, really tiny in the grand scheme of things and sometimes this terrifies me, but it's only really scary cause it makes me feel serene in a way I never thought I'd be."
- Kimya Dawson, I Like Giants
Tonight, Love and I went into a cupboard - I don't remember why now - and found all of the empty DVD cases that her ex left behind when he left like, seven months ago (or more?). Spark came home and asked what we were doing and I said we were swimming, and I slid onto the pile of empty cases. There must have been at least one hundred. I know Love and I fit 82 into our backpacks. She, Spark and I took a walk and distributed the cases around the neighbourhood. I put one on Wrecking Ball's lawn and I hope he finds it as funny as we did. Or at the very least, partially.
After we got back, I was just in a mood to break rules. Spark went to bed because she had to work at 5:15 am (woah!) and Love and I watched Mean Girls. Then we went streaking.
We put on our long black peacoats and when we got far enough away from her house, I took mine off and ran gleefully around. Love was more reluctant, but I could hardly care because I have never felt quite as ecstatic as I did, running naked down an empty street with my coat in my hand, in the air like a cape. There was something that felt so good about being naked out there. I've been feeling more comfortable in my skin since I started going to the gym last month, and this was something I never would have had the confidence to do before now.
I really want to go skinny dipping now, too. I hope it warms up soon.
Friday, May 20, 2011
Thursday, May 19, 2011
Delusions of London
*From May 11, 2011, something is wrong with this post and I don't understand why it moved*
"She didn't know what good it would do, or even what she expected to hear. She just wanted more of something."
- Maureen Johnson, The Last Little Blue Envelope
For the record, this is the first blog post I've done while crying. I haven't posted anything in a while because I don't want to keep writing about things that have really happened. I want to record my thoughts. I feel like a really unintelligent person, and no one I've mentioned this to has managed to convince me otherwise simply because I can't remember the last time I just thought about something. I'm always thinking about the moment - what I'm seeing, hearing, feeling. I never think outside myself. So I don't want to write those things down.
I bought that sequel to Thirteen Little Blue Envelopes tonight, using a gift card from my birthday - I figured I should get that out of my wallet, and also I really wanted to read this book. I had a lot of expectations. The ending to the first book was awful, and this book was supposed to fix that. It was supposed to make everything OK for the main character and I already knew how that was going to happen.
But it didn't. Things went wrong in chapter two and for me, that damage was irreparable. I read the whole book, but with about a hundred pages to go I started crying and have barely stopped. I calmed down and then I thought about how betrayed I feel by the turns of events in this book and I just kept going.
Like the first time I read the first book, I have been listening to the acoustic version of Fall Out Boy's Nobody Puts Baby In The Corner on repeat the whole time I've been reading. But this version that I've downloaded has a faint ticking in one spot that wasn't there the first time I downloaded the song, or maybe I never noticed (in the 300+ times I listened to it... unlikely), and it sounds wrong and that upsets me too. And then I remember that Fall Out Boy broke up.
Now that I've been crying for an hour, I have to wonder if there is a point at which I should begin to be worried by how upset I am, and what I'm supposed to do when I get to that point. I don't think this qualifies as hysterical or anything, it's just a constant. I guess I should just try to sleep.
"She didn't know what good it would do, or even what she expected to hear. She just wanted more of something."
- Maureen Johnson, The Last Little Blue Envelope
For the record, this is the first blog post I've done while crying. I haven't posted anything in a while because I don't want to keep writing about things that have really happened. I want to record my thoughts. I feel like a really unintelligent person, and no one I've mentioned this to has managed to convince me otherwise simply because I can't remember the last time I just thought about something. I'm always thinking about the moment - what I'm seeing, hearing, feeling. I never think outside myself. So I don't want to write those things down.
I bought that sequel to Thirteen Little Blue Envelopes tonight, using a gift card from my birthday - I figured I should get that out of my wallet, and also I really wanted to read this book. I had a lot of expectations. The ending to the first book was awful, and this book was supposed to fix that. It was supposed to make everything OK for the main character and I already knew how that was going to happen.
But it didn't. Things went wrong in chapter two and for me, that damage was irreparable. I read the whole book, but with about a hundred pages to go I started crying and have barely stopped. I calmed down and then I thought about how betrayed I feel by the turns of events in this book and I just kept going.
Like the first time I read the first book, I have been listening to the acoustic version of Fall Out Boy's Nobody Puts Baby In The Corner on repeat the whole time I've been reading. But this version that I've downloaded has a faint ticking in one spot that wasn't there the first time I downloaded the song, or maybe I never noticed (in the 300+ times I listened to it... unlikely), and it sounds wrong and that upsets me too. And then I remember that Fall Out Boy broke up.
Now that I've been crying for an hour, I have to wonder if there is a point at which I should begin to be worried by how upset I am, and what I'm supposed to do when I get to that point. I don't think this qualifies as hysterical or anything, it's just a constant. I guess I should just try to sleep.
Are You Out There?
"You never know who's still awake, you never know who understands and are you out there, can you hear this?"
- Dar Williams, Are You Out There
I haven't been sleeping well lately. It is messing with how I spend my days.
Tonight I remembered that some day, my cat will die.
I feel very much alone.
- Dar Williams, Are You Out There
I haven't been sleeping well lately. It is messing with how I spend my days.
Tonight I remembered that some day, my cat will die.
I feel very much alone.
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
Terms of Endearment
"Oh baby, oh honey, oh pumpkin, oh schnookums, oh babe!"
- The Vandals, Get A Room
Tonight, I have a problem with terms of endearment ("ToE" from now on because it's after 4 am and I'm lazy). It's not that I don't like to hear them. I actually love to be called honey, sweetie, or dear. My problem is with saying them. I also have a problem with saying my lover's name to their face. I blame Acadia and Cowboy for these problems.
Acadia's real name is just one syllable. I don't remember at all how it started, but when we were feeling cute, I would say his name twice in a row - not in a baby voice, like Lavender saying "Won Won!!!" in HP6, more like it was just actually his name. He liked it, and I liked it, and in our 2.5-3 years (it's really iffy), I never once called him by anything other than his real name or his double name. When our relationship was officially and completely over, and I was 18, I had never used a ToE on someone with whom I was in a relationship (I do call female friends and small children "honey" if they are upset). So at that point, it seemed awkward to start.
Enter Cowboy. I went without saying his name or any ToE for about three months, maybe four. But this bugged me; it felt impersonal on some level, like I never specified who I was talking to. So one night in a text, I said "Goodnight, Cowboy," and he asked if I was mad. I was confused and said no, not mad at all. He then said it was weird for people in a relationship to address each other by name like that, and that I should say something else. After a few weeks, I gathered up the courage to call him "dear". The word felt strange in my mouth, and it caught in my throat, but I pushed it out anyway and he promptly informed me that "dear" felt like something old ladies say to their grandchildren. Embarrassment ensued; I gave up on using ToEs.
I don't know if Wrecking Ball has noticed that the amount of times I've said his name to his face can probably be counted on one hand. I don't know if he cares that I have never once used a ToE in a non-joking context (I have a vague memory of him pretending to be upset and me saying, "aw, sweetie" in an exaggerated voice). But this bugs to me no end, and it particularly bugs me today because we spent the whole day together, and last night, and in all of that time I didn't ever address him. If someone else had walked into the room, it would only be my eye contact specifying who I was talking to - and I'm even bad at holding consistent eye contact. I hate that.
- The Vandals, Get A Room
Tonight, I have a problem with terms of endearment ("ToE" from now on because it's after 4 am and I'm lazy). It's not that I don't like to hear them. I actually love to be called honey, sweetie, or dear. My problem is with saying them. I also have a problem with saying my lover's name to their face. I blame Acadia and Cowboy for these problems.
Acadia's real name is just one syllable. I don't remember at all how it started, but when we were feeling cute, I would say his name twice in a row - not in a baby voice, like Lavender saying "Won Won!!!" in HP6, more like it was just actually his name. He liked it, and I liked it, and in our 2.5-3 years (it's really iffy), I never once called him by anything other than his real name or his double name. When our relationship was officially and completely over, and I was 18, I had never used a ToE on someone with whom I was in a relationship (I do call female friends and small children "honey" if they are upset). So at that point, it seemed awkward to start.
Enter Cowboy. I went without saying his name or any ToE for about three months, maybe four. But this bugged me; it felt impersonal on some level, like I never specified who I was talking to. So one night in a text, I said "Goodnight, Cowboy," and he asked if I was mad. I was confused and said no, not mad at all. He then said it was weird for people in a relationship to address each other by name like that, and that I should say something else. After a few weeks, I gathered up the courage to call him "dear". The word felt strange in my mouth, and it caught in my throat, but I pushed it out anyway and he promptly informed me that "dear" felt like something old ladies say to their grandchildren. Embarrassment ensued; I gave up on using ToEs.
I don't know if Wrecking Ball has noticed that the amount of times I've said his name to his face can probably be counted on one hand. I don't know if he cares that I have never once used a ToE in a non-joking context (I have a vague memory of him pretending to be upset and me saying, "aw, sweetie" in an exaggerated voice). But this bugs to me no end, and it particularly bugs me today because we spent the whole day together, and last night, and in all of that time I didn't ever address him. If someone else had walked into the room, it would only be my eye contact specifying who I was talking to - and I'm even bad at holding consistent eye contact. I hate that.
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