Wednesday, October 19, 2011

No Amount of anything

I really can't deal with this right now. I shouldn't even be blogging about it because I don't even know you for fuck's sake! It's like this girl has a crazy sense of exactly when I don't want or need to deal with things from her. Her message in January, the letter in April, and now this... It's impeccable.

I'm trying so hard not to let this toxic anger seep into everything I've worked so hard to create in the last few months. I stood on the Bluff tonight and wanted to scream - almost did. I did, however, fall to my knees and weep for the first time in a while. About everything. Then I went into my room and put my head in my hands and mentally screamed that I needed to remember how to breathe.

Ice cream isn't helping. In fact, it's making me nauseated. And it's my favorite flavor.

I need a fucking coping mechanism on the rocks.
(For your reference [and I really hate bourbon]: Coping Mechanism on the Rocks)

Tuesday, October 18, 2011

Write One Leaf: Rain

I think it might rain later. The fog and mist have rolled off the ocean and crept onto campus. The wind bears the promise of a change in the weather and the palm trees sway their testimonial agreement.

Speaking of palm trees, I've noticed something curious about them. They tend to grow best in dry places, but when the wind brushes through their branches, the whisper of it sounds like water. A few weeks ago I was sitting on the Bluff and looked around thinking there was rain coming or a water feature I had yet to discover, only to find it was simply the palm trees being loved by the breeze. It was a magical sound.

I don't love the rain the way I used to. I still love it, though. Maybe it's a sign of maturity? Growing up? Perhaps. I used to love the concept of the sky crying. Now I'm more enamored with the cleansing aspect of rain. The air, the streets - everything is cleaner after the rain.

There's also jumping in puddles, warm pots of tea, reading by the window... Going to the movies or having a movie marathon is a great rainy day pastime. So are good conversations.

Oh, my. I just looked out the windo and the wind has kicked up and one can actually observe the mist being blown about, ushered into every space available on campus. Eery and beautiful.

What do you do when it rains?

"Let the rain kiss you. Let the rain beat upon your head with silver liquid drops. Let the rain sing you a lullaby."
~Langston Hughes


Monday, October 17, 2011


I went home this weekend and - of course - my mother asked about the usual people, how they're doing, where their lives are headed, etc. I gave the standard answers, and in some instances (when she asks about people I no longer talk to, for example) just glared at her. In a good-natured way, of course. If that makes sense. Anyway.

On Saturday, I stopped by the house and we were doing laundry and talking about miscellaneous things (I know how to spell that without using spell-check: what now!?), and she turns to me and says,

"So Mark asked about you the other day."
Me: *Mark? Mark... Who the fuck is Mark? Mark, Mark, Mark....* "Who?"
Mom: "You know, the cutie at the bank."
Me: *Oh, GOD, stop! I don't want another relationship! Make it stop! ... He is super cute, though...* "Oh, really? Did he 'lose my number' again or is he just a chicken shit?"
Mom: "No! Well, I think he did actually lose your number and is just too shy to ask for it again -"
Me: "*snort*"
Mom" -- but I was telling him how you're back at school, and he commented on what a pretty campus it is and how he'd like to meet you there sometime for coffee or something."
Me: "What, does he want to transfer so he can ignore me at close range?"
Mom: "No, but I think it's worth a shot. Why not go curl your hair and put makeup on and come to the bank with me this afternoon?"
Me: "No. Because we both know he probably has a girlfriend and just wants a 'back-up plan.'"
Mom: "You might be right; he's way too cute to not have a girlfriend..."
Me: "Thanks, Mom."
Mom: "But he could be a good friend! God knows you're in desperate need of that. He could just be a nice person to get coffee with. He's such a nice boy, give it a try."
Me: "Mom. I don't want a boyfriend or any kind of "boy" "friend". I just want somebody to make-out with!"
Mom: "Well. I can't help you there."
Me; "Of course."

These kinds of moments always strike me. I mean, it's been over a year since R----- and I broke up. Okay, so I technically broke-up with him, but it was all his idea: I didn't have a choice. Since then, though, there've been so, so many moments like the one with my mother you just read. The very first was Brian. Oh, Brian... He basically looked like an angel - sang like one, too - but (as usual) he never called me back. After him was my first encounter with this Mark character by way of my mother's lovable meddling. Then there was Darren who came into the shop ALL the time and then disappeared one day... (I had nothing to do with that, in all honesty. No murderers here.) Then there was Riley at the Governor's Cup, David at my aunt's cottage, and now Mark again.

What I'm trying to say is that in the year or so that I've been in the shell-shocking state of singleness, I've been reminded more and more that I'm not "damaged goods." I'm young, (somewhat) pretty, (used to be) vivacious, (still) passionate, and (completely) driven. Nevermind that I've got one hell of a mental disease and all the social complexes that go with it, but what I mean is that I've still got life in me. It's like that song by The Rocket Summer:
"You've got so much love in you,
you've got so much love in you.
I'm amazed that I'm talking to you -

you look like the songs
that I've heard my whole life
coming true.
You've got so much love in you."
Right!? I've still got all this life and passion inside of me that one person didn't appreciate or deserve toward the end. So I need to start paying attention to the potentials that have... Promise. Like Mark. Maybe next weekend I'll curl my hair, put on my favorite dress and some red lipstick (which was finally returned to me by my aunt by way of my grandmother - thank you, Leslie!!!) and see if he'll live up to his promise. All of these situations birthed the beginning of a song (as yet unfinished) that kind of reminds me of every girl I've ever met.

We all daydream and wonder and fantasize about every guy we meet that has any kind of potential. We all wonder about the promise of what may or may not come next. I guess I should open myself up to it.

"So baby how can't I want want want this?
When we've got so much promise..."

I guess that's all for now. I should probably head to the library and get some work done.


Saturday, October 15, 2011

[insert title]

After being lectured about not writing, here I am at 11 at night, writing. It's important, I know.

This weekend has been frightfully normal. No craziness, no insane adventures, just homework, being at the condo (I guess I live here now?), and seeing R--- and K---. Talking to them keeps me sane, I swear. If I didn't have them... we won't go there. But they keep me sane and normal. As normal as normal gets I suppose.

I've been thinking about him lately. Not in a longing kind of way, but in a pensive, wonder-how-you're-doing way. I'm not interested in another relationship, truly, but I miss having someone. I guess I like having someone to fall apart with. Is that sound? Careful: insanity is catching.

That's all for now, but know that I am writing. It's all in my head, but isn't everything in the world?

But you're in my head, too.

“We do not have to visit a madhouse to find disordered minds, our planet is the mental institution of the universe.” -Friedrich Nietzsche


Thursday, October 6, 2011

The Truth About October

You want the truth about October? October hurts. October is cold, windy, and full of memories. A lot of firsts, and plenty of lasts happen in October.

I'm not making sense. Again. Give me another chance.

I love autumn. I love the chill in the air, the clear days with amazing clouds and the occasional rainstorm. I love the bicycles and the sweaters getting pulled out of drawers and shaken free of cobwebs and memories. I love settling into school and getting back into the familiar rhythm of classes and roommates and "life as we know it."

I don't love the memories. I don't like Octobers because of what happened last October. The Big Mistake which led to the Big S------. I wish I could forget. I wish I could call the Big Mistake a Big Mistake and stop looking back at it fondly. Because it was a mistake and it ruined me. It was stupid, and selfish, and hopeless. But I walked into it anyway, knowing all of that, and I still look at it and know that at the end of the day I probably wouldn't do it any differently. Because I wanted it despite all the reasons around me screaming about what a terrible idea it was.

Slow down a minute.

SO. Octobers. Leaves are dropping - though not as dramatically as they are on the East Coast - and I'm dreaming of scarves and Christmas. It's eons away but I still dream. And I'm fantasizing about a year ago today, when I first heard the M--------- word. And it scared the shit out of me. And I set into motion the events that led me here. I started crying for no reason a bit ago. It wasn't for regret so much as missing how things used to be, when life was something similar to simple. A year ago today. A year.

But tomorrow I drive north, like I do every October. 1st week: Rodeo. 2nd week: roadtrip. It's that time of year I take for myself and run away to people who lovelovelove me and sing and cry in the car and escape the city I love. Then, 48 hours later, I'll return, tired and perhaps hungover, but return I shall. Because unlike last October, this one won't break me. If only because I'm not giving it the chance.

I guess the truth about Octobers is that they're a time of change and settling. Settling into change, I suppose. I've settled into school and work and now I'm working out the balance. I'm doing things I enjoy - hugging, knitting, spending time with the few friends I have left, and bracing myself for the harshness of November. If I make it through those first few weeks, I'll make it through the rest. I have to. No repeats, no do-overs, no backing out. Not this time. So the truth about October is that it's forgiving, and allows some room for stretching out and re-settling. So I'll settle in and get ready for the cold that always comes, but this time I won't freeze. I'll huddle in a blanket but I'll get up every morning and do the things I know I'm supposed to. Because it's a new October for me.