I lay here on my 10 dollar DI couch, as my friend sleeps in my bed, thinking about a multitude of things. Many of my friends have spent the weekend at Comic Con (SLC fist) and a few others have gone to Audra McDonald. I wish more than the first that I could have gone to Audra. I should not have spent 50 dollars at Ross, even though my clothes are SO CUTE!
Anyway, I am a little bit, unintentionally, listening to my roomate and her boy thang. I did just say thang. They are giggling after a nap, which should have been a sleep, as it is well past 1 am. They're just chit chatting now, but I suspect that they will bang soon. I hope that I finish this post and fall asleep before the noise keeps me up. I am very drunk, though, so closing my eyes is not an essy thing.
I am wondering if they're in love yet. They are obviously so cute together. He's charming, she's beautiful. If they try and have babies I will push her down the stairs. At what point does someone begin to love another someone, and at what point do they either realize, or admit that this is true? If this is love, when will they know it.
Here's the thing. I believe that V has earned her right to love. There are a sea of trials that one must first face to b able to really fall in love. At least fairly. You see, I know someone who has ignored all these trials, and skipped all the lessons, and pushed away all the pain that would have led her to happiness by share.... But the problem is because the is blocking these moments, she will not find it until she faces these things. If she knew that she were only delaying the hopefully inevitable (oxy), she would probably, honestly, become socially suicidal. She is not the kind of person to be self aware. Because being self aware is knowing that she doesn't like herself––with her standards, I just know she wouldn't. Sadly, this is true.
If she knew... Deep down, I think she does. But she spends so much time being ignorant of the things that are fact... She goes on dates, she has sex, she cries. The weird thing is, she doesn't even like sex. She just does ti because she likes the idea of men thinking she is pretty. She does not realize that she is NOT a piece of meat. Despite our telling her so, she does not listen. She does not listen any of it. Instead, she rows on, merily, into darkness. Only to wake up, hating herself and life. Just to put her back into denial and the never ending hole of self hatred.
If she were to just take a break... Just not date anyone, just be alone. I think that she will find that she is not only human, but capable of being truly loved. And therefore, hvae the ability to truly love in return. But alas, she is not home tonight. I assume that means her date is going well...
From the couch,
Edit tomorrow.
Sunday, September 8, 2013
Tuesday, July 9, 2013
A Look at the Stars
My previous entry was a letter I wrote to my old boyfriend. Note that I called him an old boyfriend instead of an ex. I had heard once that ex was a harsh word and usually noted a demeanor of depression or ill feelings toward the relationship. Well I'm happy to announce I no longer have any ex boyfriends. I only have old relationships.
This is a big stepping stone in my life because for too long, about a year, as per usual, this breakup has haunted me. It actually turned me into a different person. Not so much a different person, but a more cynical one. I still found comfort in the same things, friends, giggling, beer & pizza... And I still liked the same movies (new favorite: Safety Not Guaranteed. Also, stoked for: The Way Way Back), I still liked the same music (though a phase of Adele did hit my ipod every few weeks), I still followed my same dreams. But still, I stopped announcing I was happy for people's engagements, and I stopped giving advice, knowing that eventually all relationships fell apart. I even began to see my misery as the only misery there was.
This last ail was especially difficult to handle. I could see people I love break down before me and I would look at them in wonder how they could possible think they hurt more than me. That notion is ridiculous, especially when compared to my friend who is now an ex-wife of a teenager-seeking-adulterer. I could see my friend dying and I could feel nothing for them, simply offer them a look at the stars.
This has all changed because I've come to peace with my broken heart. And you know what? I'm ok.
I even met a boy. I like him. A lot. He's a 3rd grade teacher starting his first year this fall. It is fascinating to watch him get excited about his classroom. Additionally, he is a good segway to my news. I've passed my CAAP exam, and pending my final scores in my Math Class of Death, I will begin my Teaching block in the fall. I cannot express how ready I am to get MY own classroom. I hope this boy likes me, too. We're taking it much much slower than my other relationships.
Already we've gone on about 10 date-ish things and have declared nothing. This is so unlike how I usually operate, but I'm in no rush. I'm just rediscovering that I have a heart, and how it feels to feel excited about a boy again.
The stars have helped me feel again.
This is a big stepping stone in my life because for too long, about a year, as per usual, this breakup has haunted me. It actually turned me into a different person. Not so much a different person, but a more cynical one. I still found comfort in the same things, friends, giggling, beer & pizza... And I still liked the same movies (new favorite: Safety Not Guaranteed. Also, stoked for: The Way Way Back), I still liked the same music (though a phase of Adele did hit my ipod every few weeks), I still followed my same dreams. But still, I stopped announcing I was happy for people's engagements, and I stopped giving advice, knowing that eventually all relationships fell apart. I even began to see my misery as the only misery there was.
This last ail was especially difficult to handle. I could see people I love break down before me and I would look at them in wonder how they could possible think they hurt more than me. That notion is ridiculous, especially when compared to my friend who is now an ex-wife of a teenager-seeking-adulterer. I could see my friend dying and I could feel nothing for them, simply offer them a look at the stars.
This has all changed because I've come to peace with my broken heart. And you know what? I'm ok.
I even met a boy. I like him. A lot. He's a 3rd grade teacher starting his first year this fall. It is fascinating to watch him get excited about his classroom. Additionally, he is a good segway to my news. I've passed my CAAP exam, and pending my final scores in my Math Class of Death, I will begin my Teaching block in the fall. I cannot express how ready I am to get MY own classroom. I hope this boy likes me, too. We're taking it much much slower than my other relationships.
Already we've gone on about 10 date-ish things and have declared nothing. This is so unlike how I usually operate, but I'm in no rush. I'm just rediscovering that I have a heart, and how it feels to feel excited about a boy again.
The stars have helped me feel again.
Monday, June 24, 2013
J,
Today I accidentally came across pictures of you and your boyfriend. I didn’t do it on purpose, the internet suggested that he and I be friends. I guess I don’t actually know that the two of you are together. I honestly thought that seeing you with someone else would be hard, and it was... But also I am happy for you. You look happy.
I don’t know why I’m writing this message. I guess it is my own way of admitting that I’m over it all––over you. I’ve ignored the idea for so long that I just assumed that I had moved on... until a couple of weeks ago when it hit me hard again. But there was a picture of the two of you that just was incredibly adorable. He seems like he really likes you, which is a good thing. You deserve to be with that kind of person.
I hope you’re doing well. I’ll assume you graduated––with departmental colors, no doubt. I hope you’re finding work and that your dreams are coming true. I wanted you to know how much I learned from you. You taught me about stability, independence, family, love, and a slew of other things, and for that I will always be grateful.
Also, I’m very sorry for the mean things I’ve said about you. I was in a very vulnerable state when I wrote those feelings down. There was no other way of dealing with my loss, other than letting myself hate you. You are a good person and you held onto our relationship for probably far too long. Additionally, your teeth look amazing, but as I said, your old smile will always be my favorite.
Best,
DW
Today I accidentally came across pictures of you and your boyfriend. I didn’t do it on purpose, the internet suggested that he and I be friends. I guess I don’t actually know that the two of you are together. I honestly thought that seeing you with someone else would be hard, and it was... But also I am happy for you. You look happy.
I don’t know why I’m writing this message. I guess it is my own way of admitting that I’m over it all––over you. I’ve ignored the idea for so long that I just assumed that I had moved on... until a couple of weeks ago when it hit me hard again. But there was a picture of the two of you that just was incredibly adorable. He seems like he really likes you, which is a good thing. You deserve to be with that kind of person.
I hope you’re doing well. I’ll assume you graduated––with departmental colors, no doubt. I hope you’re finding work and that your dreams are coming true. I wanted you to know how much I learned from you. You taught me about stability, independence, family, love, and a slew of other things, and for that I will always be grateful.
Also, I’m very sorry for the mean things I’ve said about you. I was in a very vulnerable state when I wrote those feelings down. There was no other way of dealing with my loss, other than letting myself hate you. You are a good person and you held onto our relationship for probably far too long. Additionally, your teeth look amazing, but as I said, your old smile will always be my favorite.
Best,
DW
Sunday, May 5, 2013
Long Time
I'll be the first to admit that it has been some time since my last post, and in fact one of my Southern American friends has pointed this out recently. The fact of the matter is this: The semester that has just ended was by far one of the hardest things I have ever done.
Beginning with school, I passed all of my classes except one. I know, I'm a senior how can I afford to not pass a class... Well this class was fucking ridiculous. Grammar Style and Usage. I was hoping it would be Grammar, style, and usage, but no such class exists. Instead we learned about this weird sciency shit goes into grammatical choices. It was dumb. Not at all in defense of the oxford comma like I had hoped.
But still, I made it out on top. I worked at the testing center throughout both spring and fall semester, giving me enough cash to be able to keep from starving every day. Additionally, I held the position of Publicist this past year for AAT. This position was like a full time job for me. I managed different events, publicized different events, and attended and participated in different events. If anyone says that I don't do things for the members, I may shoot. The cool thing about all my hard work is that it was recognized. I got the AAT scholarship this year! I am so honored to be the recipient of such coolness. I'll add that to the pile of scholarships for the year. I mean to say, I am also the honored recipient of the Alex Morris Scholarship of Technical Theatre. It's a big one and with my (hopefully) tuition waiver, I can start paying off some student debts.
I moved out. I needed to. I loved living with my parents and with Lilee, and even Talisa wasn't bad... But the constant occupation of the refrigerator by half attended, never to be bothered with again, cans and bottles of various substances was enough to drive this simple man insane. Additionally, I will be significantly closer to the school, which is so cool! I'm living with my friends Eden and Veronica. They're great so far, I just hope I don't murder them for not tossing the cupcakes that have been sitting out for some time.
Tomorrow morning I start my new job at the Alumni Center. I'll be working as an office assistant. I don't know what that entails, probably office shit. I am whelmed by such a task. I also hope to continue my physical endeavors tomorrow, in way of exercise. Though, I forgot my running shoes at my parents house so unless I manage to make it back that way, I'll either forgo such endeavors or run in my Chucks...
I guess you'll be asking yourself if you care about any of the above information right about now. I don't care if you care. I care. I love all that stuff. So read it and be happy.
I'm happy.
I really am.
Love,
Derek
Beginning with school, I passed all of my classes except one. I know, I'm a senior how can I afford to not pass a class... Well this class was fucking ridiculous. Grammar Style and Usage. I was hoping it would be Grammar, style, and usage, but no such class exists. Instead we learned about this weird sciency shit goes into grammatical choices. It was dumb. Not at all in defense of the oxford comma like I had hoped.
But still, I made it out on top. I worked at the testing center throughout both spring and fall semester, giving me enough cash to be able to keep from starving every day. Additionally, I held the position of Publicist this past year for AAT. This position was like a full time job for me. I managed different events, publicized different events, and attended and participated in different events. If anyone says that I don't do things for the members, I may shoot. The cool thing about all my hard work is that it was recognized. I got the AAT scholarship this year! I am so honored to be the recipient of such coolness. I'll add that to the pile of scholarships for the year. I mean to say, I am also the honored recipient of the Alex Morris Scholarship of Technical Theatre. It's a big one and with my (hopefully) tuition waiver, I can start paying off some student debts.
I moved out. I needed to. I loved living with my parents and with Lilee, and even Talisa wasn't bad... But the constant occupation of the refrigerator by half attended, never to be bothered with again, cans and bottles of various substances was enough to drive this simple man insane. Additionally, I will be significantly closer to the school, which is so cool! I'm living with my friends Eden and Veronica. They're great so far, I just hope I don't murder them for not tossing the cupcakes that have been sitting out for some time.
Tomorrow morning I start my new job at the Alumni Center. I'll be working as an office assistant. I don't know what that entails, probably office shit. I am whelmed by such a task. I also hope to continue my physical endeavors tomorrow, in way of exercise. Though, I forgot my running shoes at my parents house so unless I manage to make it back that way, I'll either forgo such endeavors or run in my Chucks...
I guess you'll be asking yourself if you care about any of the above information right about now. I don't care if you care. I care. I love all that stuff. So read it and be happy.
I'm happy.
I really am.
Love,
Derek
Sunday, January 13, 2013
Celebrate
Every year my parents take a trip to Cancun for their anniversary. That time of year is upon us, and in fact, they depart on Thursday. It being their 28th year of marriage together, they deserve to go. I love that they go. I am so fortunate that they still love each other because many marriages don’t quite make it these days.
I have seen a number of couples hitch themselves recently, most of whom are young: VERY YOUNG. Few have finished college, let alone begun adulthood. Several of these marriages have ended and abruptly.
To prepare my brothers and I for the ten days that they’ll be away and not here to be our parents, we took a trip to Walmart for foods. While my brothers got things for meals, I am so rarely home for dinners and just picked small, portable things. When in the checkout line, my parents agreed to buy me both gum and a chapstick. I love them for that!
The lady that checked us out was wearing a lanyard that read LEGALIZE over and over with a different color for each letter. Essentially making a rainbow. My father inquired as to what she wanted to legalize, thinking it may be for pot. The lady picked her lanyard with her fingers and unapologetically began. “Gay marriage,” she said.
My father has a gay son but I’ve never actually known how he felt about the equality movement. I never believed that he was against it, but not sure if he felt in any particular direction. I had always assumed he was Switzerland.
“Oh, nice,” my father replied.
“Gay marriage and gay rights. I don’t expect it to happen tomorrow, but some day” the lady added.
“Well look how far we’ve come so far” as if he was part of the movement. Like he genuinely believed in the cause. “A lot of progress has been made in five years.”
I was honestly expecting my dad to add, “My son is gay.” As if having a gay son decides for him which side of the fence he sits on. Similar to saying, “I’m not racist, my uncle is black.” Despite having a black uncle, one could easily be discriminatory against black people. Simply liking one person in a sample does not negate the rest of someone’s behavior toward that sample as a whole.
"Well, when the day comes, I'll vote for it."
He never added anything about me. I didn’t, either. It was actually really nice to see my father act accordingly, as if I wasn’t there. I do believe that he wants to see me have my 28th anniversary one day in Cancun. This is just one more of the little things that my family does to celebrate my different interest in love, including my grandmother basically trying to set me up on dates with handsome, 40-year-old rich men.
I love my family.
I have seen a number of couples hitch themselves recently, most of whom are young: VERY YOUNG. Few have finished college, let alone begun adulthood. Several of these marriages have ended and abruptly.
To prepare my brothers and I for the ten days that they’ll be away and not here to be our parents, we took a trip to Walmart for foods. While my brothers got things for meals, I am so rarely home for dinners and just picked small, portable things. When in the checkout line, my parents agreed to buy me both gum and a chapstick. I love them for that!
The lady that checked us out was wearing a lanyard that read LEGALIZE over and over with a different color for each letter. Essentially making a rainbow. My father inquired as to what she wanted to legalize, thinking it may be for pot. The lady picked her lanyard with her fingers and unapologetically began. “Gay marriage,” she said.
My father has a gay son but I’ve never actually known how he felt about the equality movement. I never believed that he was against it, but not sure if he felt in any particular direction. I had always assumed he was Switzerland.
“Oh, nice,” my father replied.
“Gay marriage and gay rights. I don’t expect it to happen tomorrow, but some day” the lady added.
“Well look how far we’ve come so far” as if he was part of the movement. Like he genuinely believed in the cause. “A lot of progress has been made in five years.”
I was honestly expecting my dad to add, “My son is gay.” As if having a gay son decides for him which side of the fence he sits on. Similar to saying, “I’m not racist, my uncle is black.” Despite having a black uncle, one could easily be discriminatory against black people. Simply liking one person in a sample does not negate the rest of someone’s behavior toward that sample as a whole.
"Well, when the day comes, I'll vote for it."
He never added anything about me. I didn’t, either. It was actually really nice to see my father act accordingly, as if I wasn’t there. I do believe that he wants to see me have my 28th anniversary one day in Cancun. This is just one more of the little things that my family does to celebrate my different interest in love, including my grandmother basically trying to set me up on dates with handsome, 40-year-old rich men.
I love my family.
Friday, January 4, 2013
The Day After Today
The semester is about to begin again and I cannot help but be excited. My classes aren't as daunting as they usually are, but my work schedule is. For some, an early morning is routine. For me that is not the case. I must wake and prepare myself every week-day morning for a shift at 7:30am; I got a job at a testing center on campus. I actually quite enjoy it. All in all, it is very simple and works very well with my demanding education, but the hours kill me. I cannot function that early and often nearly dose off on route to the office. After work, I attend 3-4 hours of class. I am a full time student with 18+ credit hours. Luckily Alax and I have very similar schedules and we get hungry at the same time: this affords us the opportunity to eat lunch together, bitch about the people we despise, and calm ourselves the the monster that is Educational Theatre. After a hearty meal, we get to work. Building, rehearsing, plotting, dancing, etc. takes its toll until it is near midnight. Then I get to go home and sleep.
Even with a filled day, it becomes increasingly clear that I am meant for art. I love my school and my education it delivers. I love the work I do for my department, and "meh" over literally everything else that has to do with my day. Even during my semester break, I only find joy in those tasks related to art. One day I won't have to worry about trivial things: the most of my shit will be focused on the thing I love to do.
David Sedaris says is it best in his book, Me Talk Pretty Some Day, and it becomes clear that "In order to get the things I want, [I have to] pretend I'm a figure in a daytime drama, a schemer. They ball up their fists and state their goals out loud. 'I will destroy Buchanan Enterprises,' they say. 'Phoebe Wallingford will pay for what she's done to our family." Sitting here in my bed I know three things are certain.
I will finish school in the spring of 2014.
I will become a theatre teacher at a high school.
I will change minds about art. Everyday.
Looking ahead at my dreams, I need only set my sights. That's easy enough. "You will be mine,' I command."
My mind and body have been growing for a very long time now. Each new experience contributing to where I am now: which is nowhere. I have absolutely no idea where I am right now. I don't know what I want (except the aforementioned goals) and I don't know when I want it.
My summer breakup left me so badly scarred that I changed who I was. The thinking behind that change was due to the fact that the person I had fallen in love with, and whom I believed to reciprocate those feelings, stopped caring for me. My mind convinced me that I was not good enough. I sought escape from that terror by means of expression. I began to drink more (though, no more than any average college student), I decided I would get a tattoo (previously thinking it would never happen) (still hasn't but will), and I became a cynic.
Never once did I feel any need to take my own life, but I did have a very dark view of the world from that moment on. This past year may have been great, but I don't remember it like that. Now that 2013 is upon us, I am forcing myself to come to terms with what happened. I usually just push uncomfortable information out of my mind; I go numb. But reality is I got dumped, I started drinking, I broke laws, and did some bad shit. Nothing that would make me hate myself, but still. Things I'm not proud of.
In facing the truth, I've set a few goals for the new year. Many refer to them as resolutions, but in light of the new digital-quality jokes (1080p) I think we should just call them goals. To make myself a better human, to feel more comfortable as me, I must make myself change. The things I want include a steady mind, a sturdy body, and a functioning liver. To achieve these things, I'll do:
1. Drink less. Only consume alcohol on birthdays and when not in Utah.
2. Get fit. I'm going to try and run everyday: and hopefully do some lifting too.
3. Use clippers. I bite my nails and I don't really want to, so I'll change that.
My hope is that in a week I'll have six pack abs, perfect nails and cuticles, and be sipping a daiquiri by the pool at a friends birthday party in L.A. The reality of this is not anything close. In a week, I'll probably weigh the same as I do now, but be considerably more endurant, have shiny nails, because I'm coating them, and be drinking water in my bed as I read or do homework. Life is a bitch, but to be the better person, I have to change some shit.
I don't expect him to come crawling back after I do these things. I don't want him to. Forcing myself to view our relationship has been eye opening. Maybe I'm remembering it wrong, but as I recall, the only time he ever loved me was behind closed doors. It took a romantic holiday centered around love to get him to hold my hand above the table in a restaurant. That kind of behavior is what justifies closed minds. The notion that gay is related to sex only causes people to lose sight of same sex love.
One day someone will appreciate and love me from head to toe, in any light. He will be my boyfriend in any situation. He will know how hard I've worked to get to where I am and He will appreciate that. He will recognize that it was a very intoxicated December that set all this into motion, and that my six pack abs glisten in the sunlight. He will notice how great my finger nails look and comment that I should be a hand model. And he will get me a glass of juice just as easily as a beer from the fridge in our apartment in the city we love.
These are all the things we can look forward to in the new year. That and more as the world becomes more accepting. Also, working out is hard and eating healthy is even harder! Since sitting down this evening to watch a movie and relax, I've had about three different snacks. And while they are a bit less caloric than my regular foods, they were still consumed well after a time in which food can be healthily digested. Oh well, maybe I'll have better luck tomorrow night.
I love you bitches, you cool cats. K?
Even with a filled day, it becomes increasingly clear that I am meant for art. I love my school and my education it delivers. I love the work I do for my department, and "meh" over literally everything else that has to do with my day. Even during my semester break, I only find joy in those tasks related to art. One day I won't have to worry about trivial things: the most of my shit will be focused on the thing I love to do.
David Sedaris says is it best in his book, Me Talk Pretty Some Day, and it becomes clear that "In order to get the things I want, [I have to] pretend I'm a figure in a daytime drama, a schemer. They ball up their fists and state their goals out loud. 'I will destroy Buchanan Enterprises,' they say. 'Phoebe Wallingford will pay for what she's done to our family." Sitting here in my bed I know three things are certain.
I will finish school in the spring of 2014.
I will become a theatre teacher at a high school.
I will change minds about art. Everyday.
Looking ahead at my dreams, I need only set my sights. That's easy enough. "You will be mine,' I command."
My mind and body have been growing for a very long time now. Each new experience contributing to where I am now: which is nowhere. I have absolutely no idea where I am right now. I don't know what I want (except the aforementioned goals) and I don't know when I want it.
My summer breakup left me so badly scarred that I changed who I was. The thinking behind that change was due to the fact that the person I had fallen in love with, and whom I believed to reciprocate those feelings, stopped caring for me. My mind convinced me that I was not good enough. I sought escape from that terror by means of expression. I began to drink more (though, no more than any average college student), I decided I would get a tattoo (previously thinking it would never happen) (still hasn't but will), and I became a cynic.
Never once did I feel any need to take my own life, but I did have a very dark view of the world from that moment on. This past year may have been great, but I don't remember it like that. Now that 2013 is upon us, I am forcing myself to come to terms with what happened. I usually just push uncomfortable information out of my mind; I go numb. But reality is I got dumped, I started drinking, I broke laws, and did some bad shit. Nothing that would make me hate myself, but still. Things I'm not proud of.
In facing the truth, I've set a few goals for the new year. Many refer to them as resolutions, but in light of the new digital-quality jokes (1080p) I think we should just call them goals. To make myself a better human, to feel more comfortable as me, I must make myself change. The things I want include a steady mind, a sturdy body, and a functioning liver. To achieve these things, I'll do:
1. Drink less. Only consume alcohol on birthdays and when not in Utah.
2. Get fit. I'm going to try and run everyday: and hopefully do some lifting too.
3. Use clippers. I bite my nails and I don't really want to, so I'll change that.
My hope is that in a week I'll have six pack abs, perfect nails and cuticles, and be sipping a daiquiri by the pool at a friends birthday party in L.A. The reality of this is not anything close. In a week, I'll probably weigh the same as I do now, but be considerably more endurant, have shiny nails, because I'm coating them, and be drinking water in my bed as I read or do homework. Life is a bitch, but to be the better person, I have to change some shit.
I don't expect him to come crawling back after I do these things. I don't want him to. Forcing myself to view our relationship has been eye opening. Maybe I'm remembering it wrong, but as I recall, the only time he ever loved me was behind closed doors. It took a romantic holiday centered around love to get him to hold my hand above the table in a restaurant. That kind of behavior is what justifies closed minds. The notion that gay is related to sex only causes people to lose sight of same sex love.
One day someone will appreciate and love me from head to toe, in any light. He will be my boyfriend in any situation. He will know how hard I've worked to get to where I am and He will appreciate that. He will recognize that it was a very intoxicated December that set all this into motion, and that my six pack abs glisten in the sunlight. He will notice how great my finger nails look and comment that I should be a hand model. And he will get me a glass of juice just as easily as a beer from the fridge in our apartment in the city we love.
These are all the things we can look forward to in the new year. That and more as the world becomes more accepting. Also, working out is hard and eating healthy is even harder! Since sitting down this evening to watch a movie and relax, I've had about three different snacks. And while they are a bit less caloric than my regular foods, they were still consumed well after a time in which food can be healthily digested. Oh well, maybe I'll have better luck tomorrow night.
I love you bitches, you cool cats. K?
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