Several months ago I drafted this to find our perfect friend.
Roommate wanted.
You know, its that thing where you need a place to live and I need someone to live in this extra room. It’s great, because we scratch each other’s backs.
What we’re looking for:
Someone cool
A student
21 or older
must be pretty
must be reclusive
must not smoke
preferably a Slytherine (for complimentary purposes, negotiable)
Who you’re applying to live with:
2 males, 1 female
quirky people
Neat freaks
Super cute
Of course, we’re looking for the ideal roommate. Someone that we never see (at least until we get to know each other, no one likes awkward situations), someone that doesn’t judge us for watching way too much TV, and someone that keeps up on their dishes, diligently. We are 3 open minded people, outgoing and fun, looking for same. Truthfully, we enjoy a glass of wine every once in a while, but sometimes we get bonkers. It’s great. Champagne/pizza/the works.
The walls are sometimes paper thin, so we prefer that you neither have anyone over ever, nor talk about what you hear when we do. We like to entertain, but we hate meeting new people. So if you must bring friends around, do so slowly, and only if these guests are quiet and easily mocked.
Rent and other things to know:
Asking $300 for a bedroom, with around $60 per month for utilities. There is space for storage in the basement and garage, as well as some other areas. There is no option for a pet. House chores are divided among everyone.
Submit application with a $20 bill through mail. Address: [omitted for security reasons]
Wednesday, January 27, 2016
Thursday, May 29, 2014
From the Safety of my Car, I Yell
My new bedroom in Logan has a window that is parallel to the street out front. This is a busy street. The complex we are staying at has a parking lot (full of stalls that are too small for most cars) that fits right between my window and the road. Now I'm not saying I'm incredibly surprised, as this town barely has 2 bars, but when a gang of youths drives by and screams at my friends that are sitting on their porch out front the complex having a good time, I... I start to feel.
The phrase they screams wasn't nice. Rather, the words themselves were harmless, but the tone and context was hurtful. "Look at all those gay kids out front! Look at all those gay kids!" For those of you that don't know, I am working with a theatre company here in Logan, UT for the summer. And yes, many of us are gay. Especially the men. That's what happens in theatre. I can only assume that those in the car driving by were not gay. Or maybe they were... I don't know. What I do know is how it made me feel.
Upon first hearing it, I wanted to chase them down. But as I am in my bed, not wearing pants, and in no way capable of flying or rapid movement, I was forced to feel something else. My second thought was to yell out of my window, "I think you're all beautiful!" But just like that time I tried to sound like a crashing car, I knew immediately that I would not sound like a speeding car filled with more loving support... I instead did nothing. Because that is who we are as people.
We leave each other to deal with our pain alone. Though those jerks were screaming at my friends outside, they were talking about me, too. Because I am one of those gay kids. It reminds me of the time a transient woman lashed out about Ellen Degeneres' alleged divorce. "That's disgusting. Look at this. This is a woman married to another woman. She must of had a shit father." To which I mouse-ly replied, "I'm sure she had a wonderful father." I then completed my transaction and went on my way, only to regret not having a stronger voice in the matter. I don't know how to be the advocate that we need. I want to show people that we are all capable of being good people, that we are all capable of having real and good love. I want to do that without being violent... But my first instinct was to chase those youths down and be aggressive.
This is it. This is the place. The place where we as a society foster a mind set that hurts people.
The phrase they screams wasn't nice. Rather, the words themselves were harmless, but the tone and context was hurtful. "Look at all those gay kids out front! Look at all those gay kids!" For those of you that don't know, I am working with a theatre company here in Logan, UT for the summer. And yes, many of us are gay. Especially the men. That's what happens in theatre. I can only assume that those in the car driving by were not gay. Or maybe they were... I don't know. What I do know is how it made me feel.
Upon first hearing it, I wanted to chase them down. But as I am in my bed, not wearing pants, and in no way capable of flying or rapid movement, I was forced to feel something else. My second thought was to yell out of my window, "I think you're all beautiful!" But just like that time I tried to sound like a crashing car, I knew immediately that I would not sound like a speeding car filled with more loving support... I instead did nothing. Because that is who we are as people.
We leave each other to deal with our pain alone. Though those jerks were screaming at my friends outside, they were talking about me, too. Because I am one of those gay kids. It reminds me of the time a transient woman lashed out about Ellen Degeneres' alleged divorce. "That's disgusting. Look at this. This is a woman married to another woman. She must of had a shit father." To which I mouse-ly replied, "I'm sure she had a wonderful father." I then completed my transaction and went on my way, only to regret not having a stronger voice in the matter. I don't know how to be the advocate that we need. I want to show people that we are all capable of being good people, that we are all capable of having real and good love. I want to do that without being violent... But my first instinct was to chase those youths down and be aggressive.
This is it. This is the place. The place where we as a society foster a mind set that hurts people.
Sunday, May 4, 2014
Sunday, September 8, 2013
Edit In the Morning
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.
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.
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?
Tuesday, October 30, 2012
More Wit Than Hair
“Never Play With The Feelings Of Others, Because You May Win The Game But The Risk Is That You Will Surely Lose The Person For Life Time”
― William Shakespeare
― William Shakespeare
Monday, October 1, 2012
Holiday Hooty Whaty?
Until this year, I've always enjoyed school. It has been challenging, but I got shit done. This year, however, I am so over this shit. I have never considered dropping out as seriously as I am right now. I have absolutely no motivation to do my homework. I don't like several of my classes, two of which are online. And I am already 20+ essays behind.
All I ever do is complain. I wish so hard that I could fix that about me, but when I start to, I just complain about how hard it is. I also wish that I was able to focus long enough to get something done. Now more than ever I am distracted by what is "THE INTERNET." Warn your children now, that shit is zombifying.
I think I have ADHD. I know that is just an excuse for why a student isn't doing well, or a scapegoat for idiocy... But I really think I have it. I refuse to believe I am dumb. Although sometimes I suspect it. I also suspect that this problem could easily be cured by an attention span that I don't have. I just want someone else's mind: I'm sick of my own.
I have a test today. I really should have studied for it yesterday, but as it was Sunday and ample time for doing such activities, I did nothing (all day) instead. Literally. I just sat, did nothing, and complained in my head as to why I was doing absolutely nothing. I looked at my homework list... But ultimately, it was boring, so I did nothing instead.
All of my classes suck. Except one, but I suck at it. I haven't done any of the reading, I haven't done any of the work. I do show up everyday, though... That's got to count for something. Even now I wish I were on FB knowing that FB has nothing new that I didn't see four minutes ago. MYBRAIN.
I will get diagnosed, and I will get medication, and I will do my fucking homework. I have to, otherwise I might as well get used to minimum wage.
Also, a shark.
All I ever do is complain. I wish so hard that I could fix that about me, but when I start to, I just complain about how hard it is. I also wish that I was able to focus long enough to get something done. Now more than ever I am distracted by what is "THE INTERNET." Warn your children now, that shit is zombifying.
I think I have ADHD. I know that is just an excuse for why a student isn't doing well, or a scapegoat for idiocy... But I really think I have it. I refuse to believe I am dumb. Although sometimes I suspect it. I also suspect that this problem could easily be cured by an attention span that I don't have. I just want someone else's mind: I'm sick of my own.
I have a test today. I really should have studied for it yesterday, but as it was Sunday and ample time for doing such activities, I did nothing (all day) instead. Literally. I just sat, did nothing, and complained in my head as to why I was doing absolutely nothing. I looked at my homework list... But ultimately, it was boring, so I did nothing instead.
All of my classes suck. Except one, but I suck at it. I haven't done any of the reading, I haven't done any of the work. I do show up everyday, though... That's got to count for something. Even now I wish I were on FB knowing that FB has nothing new that I didn't see four minutes ago. MYBRAIN.
I will get diagnosed, and I will get medication, and I will do my fucking homework. I have to, otherwise I might as well get used to minimum wage.
Also, a shark.
Tuesday, August 21, 2012
Ring on my Keys
It didn't have to happen, but now that it has I guess I'll just have to deal with it. I would be lying if I told you it didn't hurt all the time. Yes, I hardly think about it, but that doesn't mean the scar isn't there.
The reasons he has given me are that somewhere down the road, far beyond where we were, but not so far that we hadn't foreseen that future, a problem would arise. I don't even know what that problem is. But he was so certain that it would destroy us, so he cut off the head before it could cause this foreshadowed danger.
There are two instances I can think of that may have led him to dislike me. Neither of which, I hope, were his religion. He was, is, will be LDS. I respect that more than most. I didn't, don't, will never care. At one point he explained that as long as I respected his faith, there would be no problem. And while I did on occasion send unpleasant vibes toward the LDS church, it was never toward the faith that its members held. Only the practices executed by such.
I would so love to be over this. Over him. But a part of me knows that if I move on too quickly it will have meant nothing. I held on as long as I could, and a few things remain, but I have discarded and purged as many memorabilia as I could find. That included his friends: which I was not happy to do. But the truth of the matter was being friends with them online caused my facebook feed to feature him as well. Not only him, but his new appearance.
He was always self conscience about his teeth. I could tell because he got quiet when I started talking about mine. The truth is they weren't great, but that didn't stop me from falling in love with his smile. After he changed his smile into something that was actually quite beautiful, I was forever unable to look at him in the same light. He had changed not only his teeth, but what they meant. I know it is the cynic in me that thinks he shouldn't smile more than he did, but he does. He flashes his chompers now more than ever. I honestly hate that. I wish that he would have had the courage to find beauty in what was. I wish he would have smiled more in pictures with his old smile. His new smile makes him a villain in my eyes. A foe to be avoided.
He also started growing out his hair. This is for the show Vernon God Little, for which he plays the lead. This too is unfortunate because long down hair doesn't fair well on him; he always looked so dapper with short. When he first started auditioning I was excited for him, but I didn't really know how to show it. Mostly because I was conflicted. I knew that if he got a good part, he would have less time for me. He got the lead. Where is he now? I probably should have been happier for him, because at the time I think that is what he really wanted. I think this is a contributing factor to our break up: my not having as much excitement over a part as he does. I think this is a factor because this will be his career. If I cannot handle all the good parts he gets, our future would be rocky. I had never considered this before. I wish I weren't a thinker like that. But more importantly, I wish he would have given me that chance.
I always wanted to hold his hand in public, and this, I think, also lead to our end. I wanted to kiss him on the streets. I wanted to be myself in front of everyone. He has always had some sort of guilt built into him; he always felt that by showing affection in public, we would offend people. We discussed it several times. I could never grasp that concept. Who cares what other people think? I wish I didn't push the subject as far or as often as I did (I just wanted to love him everywhere), but more importantly, I wish he could have just been himself to anyone.
I don't know what you're hiding, ***. But you cannot hide it forever. One day your heart will win. One day you'll realize that I loved you. One day you'll regret it.
And now I'm moving on. I'm moving at a much quicker pace than I did last time. Mostly because I don't want my life to be hung up on one person that clearly doesn't deserve my love. I don't want to waste away the opportunities that would other wise disappear. I cannot be sad forever, and forever is starting.
If one day I stop hating you... If. I don't know what I want from you then. I hope that one day I can look at you without getting sick to my stomach. Without feeling the dopamine release within. Without feeling like you were the one to break my heart the hardest it has ever broken. I hope that one day I can forget that you did that. I also hope that day never comes, because if it does, it will make me a liar--Remember when I said I would never stop loving you?
The reasons he has given me are that somewhere down the road, far beyond where we were, but not so far that we hadn't foreseen that future, a problem would arise. I don't even know what that problem is. But he was so certain that it would destroy us, so he cut off the head before it could cause this foreshadowed danger.
There are two instances I can think of that may have led him to dislike me. Neither of which, I hope, were his religion. He was, is, will be LDS. I respect that more than most. I didn't, don't, will never care. At one point he explained that as long as I respected his faith, there would be no problem. And while I did on occasion send unpleasant vibes toward the LDS church, it was never toward the faith that its members held. Only the practices executed by such.
I would so love to be over this. Over him. But a part of me knows that if I move on too quickly it will have meant nothing. I held on as long as I could, and a few things remain, but I have discarded and purged as many memorabilia as I could find. That included his friends: which I was not happy to do. But the truth of the matter was being friends with them online caused my facebook feed to feature him as well. Not only him, but his new appearance.
He was always self conscience about his teeth. I could tell because he got quiet when I started talking about mine. The truth is they weren't great, but that didn't stop me from falling in love with his smile. After he changed his smile into something that was actually quite beautiful, I was forever unable to look at him in the same light. He had changed not only his teeth, but what they meant. I know it is the cynic in me that thinks he shouldn't smile more than he did, but he does. He flashes his chompers now more than ever. I honestly hate that. I wish that he would have had the courage to find beauty in what was. I wish he would have smiled more in pictures with his old smile. His new smile makes him a villain in my eyes. A foe to be avoided.
He also started growing out his hair. This is for the show Vernon God Little, for which he plays the lead. This too is unfortunate because long down hair doesn't fair well on him; he always looked so dapper with short. When he first started auditioning I was excited for him, but I didn't really know how to show it. Mostly because I was conflicted. I knew that if he got a good part, he would have less time for me. He got the lead. Where is he now? I probably should have been happier for him, because at the time I think that is what he really wanted. I think this is a contributing factor to our break up: my not having as much excitement over a part as he does. I think this is a factor because this will be his career. If I cannot handle all the good parts he gets, our future would be rocky. I had never considered this before. I wish I weren't a thinker like that. But more importantly, I wish he would have given me that chance.
I always wanted to hold his hand in public, and this, I think, also lead to our end. I wanted to kiss him on the streets. I wanted to be myself in front of everyone. He has always had some sort of guilt built into him; he always felt that by showing affection in public, we would offend people. We discussed it several times. I could never grasp that concept. Who cares what other people think? I wish I didn't push the subject as far or as often as I did (I just wanted to love him everywhere), but more importantly, I wish he could have just been himself to anyone.
I don't know what you're hiding, ***. But you cannot hide it forever. One day your heart will win. One day you'll realize that I loved you. One day you'll regret it.
And now I'm moving on. I'm moving at a much quicker pace than I did last time. Mostly because I don't want my life to be hung up on one person that clearly doesn't deserve my love. I don't want to waste away the opportunities that would other wise disappear. I cannot be sad forever, and forever is starting.
If one day I stop hating you... If. I don't know what I want from you then. I hope that one day I can look at you without getting sick to my stomach. Without feeling the dopamine release within. Without feeling like you were the one to break my heart the hardest it has ever broken. I hope that one day I can forget that you did that. I also hope that day never comes, because if it does, it will make me a liar--Remember when I said I would never stop loving you?
Saturday, July 21, 2012
My Daemons Tell Me So
One more reason to dislike and distrust smaller and lesser humans: A child has convinced my immune system to compromise its strength to accept a virus of persuasion. Thus, I am ill. The last time I felt like this I was in arms, in a tent, and indoors. That sick was destined to fail because there was someone that took care of me. This sick might win because I refuse to be treated with lies. I feel drowsy, stuffy, runny-nosey... I can't sleep and I don't want to be awake. I can't even imagine drinking. WHAT HAS THIS WORLD COME TO?!
I always thought that I would control my own destiny, but now I think that I only influence it. Upon that discovery, I began making poor decisions, and regretting nothing. I drink more. I drink a lot more. Not to hide my pain, but to distract it. If I reach the bottom of a bottle, then I won't see the bottom of my heart. It's a sad thing really, but I am honestly having fun. Obviously the school year will slow such behavior. It's hard enough being a theatre student without the alcohol addiction.
YOLO comes to mind: You only live once. For that reason, I have a bucket list of things to accomplish before moving into adulthood. For reasons that I wish to neither discuss nor address, I will neither discuss nor address the items on my list.
As one may have noticed, I've become a bit of a cynic. I hate things that I've never hated before. I approve of actions that I've once reprimanded. I've lost even more faith in humanity. But, that isn't going to stop me from doing the things I want. Bitches ain't shit, through and through. Despite disliking happiness in couples and seeing people benefit from coexistence, I will push through with my eyes averted. Careful not to catch that nostalgic bug that is comfort in humanity. For now, I wish to be alone emotionally. I have a lot to do and I can't be held back.
There are, of course, exceptions. I will not be attending festivities on this Friday night due to my impaired health. This is a super bummer, but bummer is as bummer does and sometimes the virus wins.
Wish me luck in fighting my daemons. A tissue is my sword, a bed my steed.
Tuesday, July 3, 2012
As It Were.
I've always known myself to be a little irrational in situations. I get frustrated when waiting, and I am not generally a very patient person. The truth of the matter is I had it all. I loved my life. A great family, a really good education, amazing friends... I still have those things, but I did lose someone very important to me. Not by death or anything as permanent, but through a break up. He initially stated that he wanted a break, but through a string of flaws in this break (lack of communication, no ground rules, no knowledge of anything at all, etc.) the only thing he broke was my heart.
For some time I kept the illusion fresh in my head that one day soon he would come out of the idiot coma and see that I was madly in love with him. In reality, however, love isn't real for those that don't try. After so long of not being with him, I got impatient and I started pushing for answers. He didn't respond right away, instead I had to force out of him that he has no idea what he's doing. That's fine, people are allowed life crises. But when I'm on the other end, looking for that "light" at the end of the tunnel, something needs to change.
I could not just waste my summer away feeling like I could fix something. I knew this long before he said it. Actually, his exact words were, "I hate that I've become your summer." Here's the things about you, J.a.10, you're really cool. Like really really cool, but if you didn't try so hard to be so, it's almost as if you're nothing. So please try and understand that when you excuse yourself from my life completely, safe for the occasional one word text in response to me letting my heart out, you stop being so cool. You are NOT my summer. No one is, no one ever will be. You could have been part of it, but you chose not to be.
I wish you all the happiness in the world, but I wish everyone that luxury. Being unhappy sounds depressing. Let the record show that if you break my heart for a month without giving a meaningful apology, I will get angry and say mean things.
Let us take this moment to look at my future.
I do not deserve:
1. A child for a companion. A certain level of emotional maturity is required for my dating privileges.
2. Someone that is not willing to commit to the things they tell me. If one first says onelove me, stand by that statement. And maybe have some cheese in one's hand.
3. A liar. Do not tell me you're going to do something and procrastinate. That kind of behavior is not acceptable when someones heart is on the line.
4. Someone I cannot trust. "Trust that I love you." Bull shit, if you loved me you would have come to me with said problem and we could have faced it together. You betrayed me.
5. Someone who is too afraid to hold my hand. Man up. We live in a very forgiving society. Sometimes you just have to say to yourself, Bitches ain't shit. Be who you are, un-apologetically.
6. A mute. Use your words, especially with those you care about.
7. A force feeder. If I tell you I don't want a candy, do not buy me a candy. Beside that fact that I really don't want it, I will not eat it because you refused to listen to me.
8. Someone who doesn't know the difference between then and than. Take an interest in proper English. Only then will you learn the proper usage of the word than. (Please forgive all misspelled words and grammar mistakes: this is written out of anger.)
and finally,
9. Someone who dares leave me alone. I am a very loyal person and would NEVER stray, but if you are ok with taking that chance, then you have a lot to learn.
For some time I kept the illusion fresh in my head that one day soon he would come out of the idiot coma and see that I was madly in love with him. In reality, however, love isn't real for those that don't try. After so long of not being with him, I got impatient and I started pushing for answers. He didn't respond right away, instead I had to force out of him that he has no idea what he's doing. That's fine, people are allowed life crises. But when I'm on the other end, looking for that "light" at the end of the tunnel, something needs to change.
I could not just waste my summer away feeling like I could fix something. I knew this long before he said it. Actually, his exact words were, "I hate that I've become your summer." Here's the things about you, J.a.10, you're really cool. Like really really cool, but if you didn't try so hard to be so, it's almost as if you're nothing. So please try and understand that when you excuse yourself from my life completely, safe for the occasional one word text in response to me letting my heart out, you stop being so cool. You are NOT my summer. No one is, no one ever will be. You could have been part of it, but you chose not to be.
I wish you all the happiness in the world, but I wish everyone that luxury. Being unhappy sounds depressing. Let the record show that if you break my heart for a month without giving a meaningful apology, I will get angry and say mean things.
Let us take this moment to look at my future.
I do not deserve:
1. A child for a companion. A certain level of emotional maturity is required for my dating privileges.
2. Someone that is not willing to commit to the things they tell me. If one first says onelove me, stand by that statement. And maybe have some cheese in one's hand.
3. A liar. Do not tell me you're going to do something and procrastinate. That kind of behavior is not acceptable when someones heart is on the line.
4. Someone I cannot trust. "Trust that I love you." Bull shit, if you loved me you would have come to me with said problem and we could have faced it together. You betrayed me.
5. Someone who is too afraid to hold my hand. Man up. We live in a very forgiving society. Sometimes you just have to say to yourself, Bitches ain't shit. Be who you are, un-apologetically.
6. A mute. Use your words, especially with those you care about.
7. A force feeder. If I tell you I don't want a candy, do not buy me a candy. Beside that fact that I really don't want it, I will not eat it because you refused to listen to me.
8. Someone who doesn't know the difference between then and than. Take an interest in proper English. Only then will you learn the proper usage of the word than. (Please forgive all misspelled words and grammar mistakes: this is written out of anger.)
and finally,
9. Someone who dares leave me alone. I am a very loyal person and would NEVER stray, but if you are ok with taking that chance, then you have a lot to learn.
Sunday, June 17, 2012
In One Fashion or Another.
It's that thing when you see everyone around you so happy, and you just want to rejoin them but you can't.
I've been really unhappy this last week, but one may not have been able to tell. I've been keeping my mind extremely busy with friends. Different adventures, movie/dinner nights, parties, etc. All to keep me as occupied as possible. The thing is, when I stop doing and start thinking. I hate when I think. Every time I do that, I get super depressed.
I googled some things this last week. One search revealed that I should try and think of only the bad things that happened in our relationship. But the thing is, I have the most difficult time doing that. Most of the things that suck were happening when he was unhappy. I cannot blame him for treating me poorly while considering a break. I can blame him for considering it, but that isn't really fair either. There were the occasional pet peeves, but even those, I can live with.
The truth of the matter is we never had a fight that lasted more than 2 hours. We always solved our problems together. Discussing the event, expressing feelings, and working out a solution. We never went to be angry, and feelings never had the opportunity to fester and build.
I'm so lost right now. I need him. I need him to come back to me.
But if he's the person I've known for so long, then I know that he will. In one fashion or another.
Monday, June 11, 2012
Once Was Once Again.
It's funny, really. This blog was originally intended to express my feelings after having broken up with my second boyfriend. For a while, a long while (nearly 2 years), I did just that. But just as I began to feel more comfortable with the fact that I had been dumped by a person I cared so much for, my posts about him and my feelings grew fewer. Since that boy, I've been on many dates. Met great people, mended our relationship, and moved on. At one point, around 10 months ago, I met someone new. More than just a single-serving date, I began to see him regularly, then exclusively. As expected of me, I obsessed. Naturally, one gets carried away caring for someone special. I generally amplify those feelings by some immeasurable amount.
Our relationship started out great. I usually tell people we met in a restaurant. I was there with my friends, he with his. Our friends knew one another so we all sat together. He and I sat side by side and began talking, knowing that this just might lead somewhere. Every time we told the story, we would exaggerate a little bit more. Eventually, it became that we met in a suspended booth in a restaurant with fire walls in Vegas. I don't know how believable that was, but no one argued. In all actuality, we met online. He commented on a picture of mine, and we started talking. The relationship went great.
After 4 months, he told me he loved me and put a ring on my finger to prove it. After 9 months, he told me he loved me but couldn’t be with me.
I guess this is what Zooey did to Joseph. That bitch. It hurts. A lot.
I know that every good relationship must end at least once before it can work forever. I knew this around 5 months, too, and one day we broke up for ten minutes to ensure that it would never happen again. In hindsight, it was a waist of 10 minutes; they could have been spent more wisely.
I can’t say I didn’t see this coming. We have been off for some time now. I suppose it began when he told me how much his time alone is precious to him. I resented him for telling me that, knowing that it was because he thought we spent too much time together. I struggled with that resentment until a friend explained that some people just need to be alone. I don’t get sick of the people I love so I want to always be surrounded by them—others need their space. When I began to comprehend, though not understanding, I apologized to him, explaining that it wasn’t fair to think so poorly of the situation. But when the absence became stronger, when I wasn’t able to see him as often, the resentment grew.
The day he told me we are going on a break was the day I was going to tell him that I was unhappy. The only thing I’ve wanted these last few weeks was to be with the man I love. I don’t really know what he’s going through. I’m told that when a gaze is cast upon our future, something doesn’t add up. I’m banking on the fact that he’s bad at math, because when I look, everything seems perfect.
Perhaps we’re to blame, though, for letting the future cloud the present. We should not have committed so soon. Talked less about marriage, graduation, money, house, children, puppies. We should never have started the pinterest page about Our Life Together. Because now I have to go and delete it.
I hate being lied to and I hate being let down. Half of the contribution to our future was him: He seemed to want marriage and a life together just as much as I [do]. In my bedroom, he told me all these things. How we are taking a break (if anyone has any knowledge of what a break entails, please let me know) and how it is too much of me to ask that he not sleep with anyone until he knows that he doesn’t want to be with me. He asked for a hug before departing, and I granted him one. His shirt was soaked in tears, and mine was too. I have never seen him cry before. In fact, I had never really see him emote much more than excitement.
If he can ask me for a hug, I can ask for one last kiss. So I did. He licked his lips thinking that is what I meant, but instead I tilted his head down and kissed the freckle under his right eye. The very freckle that I’ve been kissing since I decided it was my favorite.
Surely were this a hand written letter, nearly every word would be smeared. I’m going to be in a hole for a while. Please be happy.
Our relationship started out great. I usually tell people we met in a restaurant. I was there with my friends, he with his. Our friends knew one another so we all sat together. He and I sat side by side and began talking, knowing that this just might lead somewhere. Every time we told the story, we would exaggerate a little bit more. Eventually, it became that we met in a suspended booth in a restaurant with fire walls in Vegas. I don't know how believable that was, but no one argued. In all actuality, we met online. He commented on a picture of mine, and we started talking. The relationship went great.
After 4 months, he told me he loved me and put a ring on my finger to prove it. After 9 months, he told me he loved me but couldn’t be with me.
I guess this is what Zooey did to Joseph. That bitch. It hurts. A lot.
I know that every good relationship must end at least once before it can work forever. I knew this around 5 months, too, and one day we broke up for ten minutes to ensure that it would never happen again. In hindsight, it was a waist of 10 minutes; they could have been spent more wisely.
I can’t say I didn’t see this coming. We have been off for some time now. I suppose it began when he told me how much his time alone is precious to him. I resented him for telling me that, knowing that it was because he thought we spent too much time together. I struggled with that resentment until a friend explained that some people just need to be alone. I don’t get sick of the people I love so I want to always be surrounded by them—others need their space. When I began to comprehend, though not understanding, I apologized to him, explaining that it wasn’t fair to think so poorly of the situation. But when the absence became stronger, when I wasn’t able to see him as often, the resentment grew.
The day he told me we are going on a break was the day I was going to tell him that I was unhappy. The only thing I’ve wanted these last few weeks was to be with the man I love. I don’t really know what he’s going through. I’m told that when a gaze is cast upon our future, something doesn’t add up. I’m banking on the fact that he’s bad at math, because when I look, everything seems perfect.
Perhaps we’re to blame, though, for letting the future cloud the present. We should not have committed so soon. Talked less about marriage, graduation, money, house, children, puppies. We should never have started the pinterest page about Our Life Together. Because now I have to go and delete it.
I hate being lied to and I hate being let down. Half of the contribution to our future was him: He seemed to want marriage and a life together just as much as I [do]. In my bedroom, he told me all these things. How we are taking a break (if anyone has any knowledge of what a break entails, please let me know) and how it is too much of me to ask that he not sleep with anyone until he knows that he doesn’t want to be with me. He asked for a hug before departing, and I granted him one. His shirt was soaked in tears, and mine was too. I have never seen him cry before. In fact, I had never really see him emote much more than excitement.
If he can ask me for a hug, I can ask for one last kiss. So I did. He licked his lips thinking that is what I meant, but instead I tilted his head down and kissed the freckle under his right eye. The very freckle that I’ve been kissing since I decided it was my favorite.
Surely were this a hand written letter, nearly every word would be smeared. I’m going to be in a hole for a while. Please be happy.
Thursday, May 10, 2012
.Blogspot.Learning
I'm here teaching Jaten how to run a blog. And although I'm not exceptional at this task, I feel as though I'm spreading my .blogspot.knowledge (Clever).
Earnyway, I'll just say that he's cute, handsome, talented (Chinese fortune ending) and really popular. Ok. Now I'll load a picture.
Tuesday, April 3, 2012
Stories Are Better Than Essays.
A long walk in nature? I can do this. Easy. I begin by carpooling to my destination. Not only because I am a thrift-nut, but also because I don’t want to detriment the environment and I don’t think it is incredibly wise to hike alone.
Our adventure begins in the Foot Hills of the Wasatch Front. A trail called Jump Off Canyon. This name initially has me worried, but I quickly follow these emotions with excitement that there will be hang gliders or something as exciting. The trail begins in someone’s back yard: A quant back yard with plenty of oak trees and small purple ground cover. Their dog, although huge, is calm and happy to see us. But we’ve got an adventure to have and we have no time for something as trivial as a fenced dog on this day!
As the trail begins to slope, the trees begin to fade. Suddenly the ground has gone from spring green to a harsh yellow. Perhaps it is because there isn’t very much hydration in the vegetation after a lousy winter like the one we had this year. The trail is dry and dusty, but we’re moving too quickly for it to really bother us. Our main goal is to get to the top of this canyon and back down before it begins to rain. The clouds are heavy and grey lying high in the sky. Surely there will be some form of precipitation on this day.
Before long, the trail that was once as clear as dirt becomes disguised in the vegetation that is the color of, well, dirt. There really has not been much water for these plants to feed on. Luckily for us, there are rocks the size of melons littered about to note exactly where we’re supposed to be going. Although there is a clear difference in the material making up these rocks, one can easily tell they all lead to the same place. Some are Sedimentary, filled with smaller throwing-sized stones in an ice-cream like filling. They look as if a rock-eating monster’s breakfast cereal sat out too long and hardened as is. They’re neighbored by rocks that are incredibly pretty. These rocks are no doubt Igneous, and judging by the color, they’re more heavily felsic. And although the crystals aren’t completely noticeable at a body’s distance, up close, they’re shining in the absence of the sun.
Until now I thought there was going to be a waterfall of some sort, as I was promised by my companion. But noticing that there is a channel bed carved through the earth that the trail is following, but is not filled with water, I can tell that the dry winter has taken its toll on the area. After following the river for some time, we come to a place that the trail seems to end. We cannot figure out if we’ve come to the end, or something else is wrong. We are blocked by a large pile of rocks. This rock pile is ample adventure for climbing. When upon it, we not only notice that the rocks are loose below us, but also that these boulder-sized rocks are break off from the mountain.
A closer look at the mountain reveals that it is not only slanted as from normal faulting, but ultimately was formed from compression. While our gaze is on the material of the mountain face, it is made clear that there is more than one material to see. The face appears layered, not unlike a bean dip at a fiesta. The composition of the rocks is so pretty and interesting. One layer is Igneous/Felsic/Intrusive, while the next is Igneous/Mafic/Extrusive. Throw in some Metamorphic rocks with some Sedimentary, add a little (non)Clastic/(non)Foliated and you have yourself and adventure that is as good as bean dip!
When we reach our destination, we find that there is no beautiful waterfall to admire, and even worse, no waterfall at all. We begin to turn around and have fun climbing the rocks when we see that, in the distance, there is rainfall over parts of the city. We conclude that our best option is to get off the mountain before we get rained on and our sense of adventure gets washed away in the storm.
Our adventure begins in the Foot Hills of the Wasatch Front. A trail called Jump Off Canyon. This name initially has me worried, but I quickly follow these emotions with excitement that there will be hang gliders or something as exciting. The trail begins in someone’s back yard: A quant back yard with plenty of oak trees and small purple ground cover. Their dog, although huge, is calm and happy to see us. But we’ve got an adventure to have and we have no time for something as trivial as a fenced dog on this day!
As the trail begins to slope, the trees begin to fade. Suddenly the ground has gone from spring green to a harsh yellow. Perhaps it is because there isn’t very much hydration in the vegetation after a lousy winter like the one we had this year. The trail is dry and dusty, but we’re moving too quickly for it to really bother us. Our main goal is to get to the top of this canyon and back down before it begins to rain. The clouds are heavy and grey lying high in the sky. Surely there will be some form of precipitation on this day.
Before long, the trail that was once as clear as dirt becomes disguised in the vegetation that is the color of, well, dirt. There really has not been much water for these plants to feed on. Luckily for us, there are rocks the size of melons littered about to note exactly where we’re supposed to be going. Although there is a clear difference in the material making up these rocks, one can easily tell they all lead to the same place. Some are Sedimentary, filled with smaller throwing-sized stones in an ice-cream like filling. They look as if a rock-eating monster’s breakfast cereal sat out too long and hardened as is. They’re neighbored by rocks that are incredibly pretty. These rocks are no doubt Igneous, and judging by the color, they’re more heavily felsic. And although the crystals aren’t completely noticeable at a body’s distance, up close, they’re shining in the absence of the sun.
Until now I thought there was going to be a waterfall of some sort, as I was promised by my companion. But noticing that there is a channel bed carved through the earth that the trail is following, but is not filled with water, I can tell that the dry winter has taken its toll on the area. After following the river for some time, we come to a place that the trail seems to end. We cannot figure out if we’ve come to the end, or something else is wrong. We are blocked by a large pile of rocks. This rock pile is ample adventure for climbing. When upon it, we not only notice that the rocks are loose below us, but also that these boulder-sized rocks are break off from the mountain.
A closer look at the mountain reveals that it is not only slanted as from normal faulting, but ultimately was formed from compression. While our gaze is on the material of the mountain face, it is made clear that there is more than one material to see. The face appears layered, not unlike a bean dip at a fiesta. The composition of the rocks is so pretty and interesting. One layer is Igneous/Felsic/Intrusive, while the next is Igneous/Mafic/Extrusive. Throw in some Metamorphic rocks with some Sedimentary, add a little (non)Clastic/(non)Foliated and you have yourself and adventure that is as good as bean dip!
When we reach our destination, we find that there is no beautiful waterfall to admire, and even worse, no waterfall at all. We begin to turn around and have fun climbing the rocks when we see that, in the distance, there is rainfall over parts of the city. We conclude that our best option is to get off the mountain before we get rained on and our sense of adventure gets washed away in the storm.
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
Around Christmas time, or rather, just after, Jaten learned the secret identity of my blog. I really understand that by writing and posting to the internet, I'm allowing anyone and everyone to read my thoughts, but I always get a little concerned when the person I am writing about is reading it. Granted that the person I was concerned with is my lovely boyfriend and I keep nothing from him, but it still hit that part of my thoughts.
Right now I should be researching information for the 20ish page paper I have to have written in about 2 weeks. The paper is on the cultural differences between being famous in the times of actor, David Garrick and actress, Marilyn Monroe. I could also be expanding my analysis on The Dutchman to be 8 pages long. I could also be recalling as much as I could about the hike Jaten and I did over spring break (Angel's Landing, Zion UT)so that it too can be prepared for the end of the semester. There are a multitude of assignments and projects that I COULD be working on, but let's face it, I'm so over being productive at this point.
So... My birthday is tomorrow. I've been thinking a lot about how all the friends I have at school are really almost only acquaintances. This is done through a series of observation of the behavior they have among each other and with me. Yeah, we're all friends at school, but sometimes I feel like that is the only place people care to befriend me. Everyone else webs their social lives together, they hang out, they get lunch, they party. All the time. I'm hardly ever invited, and if I am, it is on the same day of the event. Only hours prior. Granted, I am extremely grateful that I have a social life outside of the department, it would still be nice to know that these people care enough about me to throw me a birthday party or something... Ya know, like they do everyone else. But it is fine, I get it. And for this reason, I have removed (to the best of my knowledge) the date of my birthday. That way I won't get the superficial texts and wall-posts about something no one really cares about anyway. I don't say that in pity of myself, I say it out of experience. I notice that whenever I learn it is someone's birthday, I find myself trying to convince them I knew all along through a especially perky salutation. It is fake. While I do wish the birthday person does have a lovely day, I don't think it is my responsibility to make that happen. If it were Chelsea, on the other hand, yeah, it would be my responsibility.
Regardless, I postponing my day of birth. Jaten has rehearsal and I really don't want to celebrate without him. In addition, more exciting things can happen if I wait until everyone else is more available too. This means as soon as school is out for the summer, all the liquor stores better watch their shelves because I aim to be 22.
Speaking of Jaten. Ugh. Where to I even start. This boy is incredible. Several friends have exclaimed that we're perfect for one another, just stating the obvious. I'm so fortunate to have him in my life. Everyday I feel how much he loves me, and everyday my love for him grows. Words cannot express. I mean, yeah, they've been doing pretty well, but in the long run, there just aren't enough combinations to help one harness the gravity of our affection.
So, no. I have not purposefully been abstaining from posts just because Jaten found out about my blog, as one reader feared. But rather, I've been preoccupied with other shit. Mostly a boy. :)
Anyway, until next time.
OH! P.S. I thought this was funny. In reviewing my notes on geography (chapters rocks, volcanoes, and earthquakes) I found a word that I couldn't define. This is entirely due to the fact that I didn't understand the professor speaking clearly as she attempted. Naturally, I improvised. It looked something like this: Batholiths- guess, mutha fucka!
Yep. I did that.
Monday, December 26, 2011
Christmas has been over, as of right now, for an hour and ten minutes. Christmas, in my world, has always been a very present filled day. Yes, you're probably thinking, "Duh. It's Christmas!" Well, I've come to notice that my family is especially fortunate. For some reason, under our tree, we have a bajillion presents. I've looked and asked around and noticed a difference with the weight of gifts. That's great. I like things... But really, the thing I love most about Christmas, is giving gifts. I usually make the things I give to people, too. Jaten and I spent some good times on my bed painting 4 paintings for my parents. They're beautiful! For my brothers, I made them a beer-pong table. Something they'll use the SHIT out of. For a few of my lady friends, I've crafted (or will now that I have their size) skirts. For a few of my guy friends, screen-printed t-shirts. A few odd end gifts here and there... But the gifts I was most excited to give were for my man.
We had a gift limit. I broke it. We were only allowed to do 3, and when I remembered this number, I knocked about 3 gifts OFF the list and sized it down to 4. However, I told him it was only 3. First, a 1950's style VINTAGE cardigan of the blue and green faith. Fits him like a charm. Second, a pair of hand crafted moccasins with a detail job fit for Pimp My Ride. "Yo, I heard you like shoes, so we made your shoes, Dawg!" Fourth, a three-piece painting set that resembles the jungle from the children's book, Where the Wild Things Are. He loves that book and is the only one to instantly understand what it was with no explanation. He's smart. Last, and CERTAINLY not least, I made him a Nimbus 2011. Our ban saw was broken, so I sculpted a 2x4 into a wiggly piece of wood using a lot of man. It is about 6 feet tall, dark brown, totally rideable, and incredibly awesome! I wish it were mine. He likes it too, which is really important. I'm actually quite proud of my work, really.
Now, let's talk about what I received for gifts. Clothes. And a lot of them! I LOVE IT! My mom, grandma, brothers, dad, and Jaten's mom (family?) all got me something long sleeved. I LOVE IT! I received some camping cooking ware, a car charger for my phone, a paperback-cover of The Hunger Games, and a few other really great gifts too. I like presents!
From my friends, I've received some of the most thoughtful gifts ever! Scott purchased me some cheese. I'm really excited about that. I hope it is not eaten by the time I get back. I'll be incredibly frustrated. Chelsea and Kristie got me a box of wine. YUM! I received a bottle of rum (DELIC), a memories collage (I LOVE IT!) and an incredibly comfortable, bright green, Zumies hoodie. Thank you, all, very much! I love you dearly.
From my boyfriend, who just happens to be the coolest, cutest, most best person EVER did this for me. The hour it turned to be Christmas Eve, he pulled me aside from a party we were attending and gave me a non-Xmas present. This caught me off guard, but I was ready enough to have a present to exchange. I opened mine first to find a beautiful, shiny-as-hell, silver ring. I put it on the ring that I've always wanted to put a ring on, regardless of the fact that it in no married us. The ring was followed by three words that have changed my life forever. I kissed him, and said it back. Then I gave him a painting (different from the WildThings painting) that said this, "I will catch you at the bottom." So fitting, because it means that I've fallen in love with him too.
Best Christmas ever? I think so.
We had a gift limit. I broke it. We were only allowed to do 3, and when I remembered this number, I knocked about 3 gifts OFF the list and sized it down to 4. However, I told him it was only 3. First, a 1950's style VINTAGE cardigan of the blue and green faith. Fits him like a charm. Second, a pair of hand crafted moccasins with a detail job fit for Pimp My Ride. "Yo, I heard you like shoes, so we made your shoes, Dawg!" Fourth, a three-piece painting set that resembles the jungle from the children's book, Where the Wild Things Are. He loves that book and is the only one to instantly understand what it was with no explanation. He's smart. Last, and CERTAINLY not least, I made him a Nimbus 2011. Our ban saw was broken, so I sculpted a 2x4 into a wiggly piece of wood using a lot of man. It is about 6 feet tall, dark brown, totally rideable, and incredibly awesome! I wish it were mine. He likes it too, which is really important. I'm actually quite proud of my work, really.
Now, let's talk about what I received for gifts. Clothes. And a lot of them! I LOVE IT! My mom, grandma, brothers, dad, and Jaten's mom (family?) all got me something long sleeved. I LOVE IT! I received some camping cooking ware, a car charger for my phone, a paperback-cover of The Hunger Games, and a few other really great gifts too. I like presents!
From my friends, I've received some of the most thoughtful gifts ever! Scott purchased me some cheese. I'm really excited about that. I hope it is not eaten by the time I get back. I'll be incredibly frustrated. Chelsea and Kristie got me a box of wine. YUM! I received a bottle of rum (DELIC), a memories collage (I LOVE IT!) and an incredibly comfortable, bright green, Zumies hoodie. Thank you, all, very much! I love you dearly.
From my boyfriend, who just happens to be the coolest, cutest, most best person EVER did this for me. The hour it turned to be Christmas Eve, he pulled me aside from a party we were attending and gave me a non-Xmas present. This caught me off guard, but I was ready enough to have a present to exchange. I opened mine first to find a beautiful, shiny-as-hell, silver ring. I put it on the ring that I've always wanted to put a ring on, regardless of the fact that it in no married us. The ring was followed by three words that have changed my life forever. I kissed him, and said it back. Then I gave him a painting (different from the WildThings painting) that said this, "I will catch you at the bottom." So fitting, because it means that I've fallen in love with him too.
Best Christmas ever? I think so.
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