Impossible you say? Nothing is impossible when you work for the circus.

So, it would seem that Matt and I are together. For real.

I am equal parts thrilled, terrified, apprehensive, and disgusted. I feel like such a hypocrite because most of my life I have been shitting on love, and the minute the potential for love comes to me, what do I do? I turn into an eternally sappy ball of mush. Its gross. There's sap, and on the whole mushy stuff that makes me want to barf.

I have never welcomed nausea this readily in all my life.

So far, we're perfect.

I think we've both grown up since the last time we dated. I mean, I always (always = since 2005) told myself that I would never date someone twice, or date a drummer, or someone who was born with a 7 letter name that could be shortened to a four letter nickname (ie Anthony to Tony, Gregory to Greg, Michael to Mike, etc). Those rules are based on patterns in my life, and now I am kind of spitting in their face. I'm not sure what this compulsion for rules and order is, but its hard to say if I will keep them all. But I digress. I'm happy, and that's a start.

We build momentum with the fact that he seems more willing to invest himself too. When we last dated, I was just a kid, barely 20, which would put him at 21. Very self-centered ages. We both seem to have grown out of a lot of the dumb shit. He's talked about righting some of the fuckups he's made, not because I ever asked him to, but because it would bring us closer together.

When I was in Chicago, he said to me once, "you seem more like yourself." I keep trying to decipher that and coming up with nothing of substance. I blame philosophy class. I feel like it's profound, but can't tell why.

I love pop music again.

Now Playing: "Creepin Up On You" - Darren Hayes

the chicago trip, 67-100

part six: it's all terribly French.

68. return to the apartment.
69. listen to music in Matt's room.
70. watch weird music videos on youtube.
71. start making out.

part seven:I can sleep when I'm dead.

72. realize its 1:30
73. notice that nobody that was supposed to call called.
74. stopped caring.
75. carried on.
76. passed out for approx. 2 hours.
77. resumed activity # 71.
78. realized the sun was coming up.
79. resumed activity #71 again.
80. realized it was 10 am
81. realized I was starving.

part eight: I am sick of committing to the concept, I am fast forwarding.

82. ate breakfast.
83. napped.
84. for obvious reasons, it took an hour to get directions and put my shoes on.
85. wished I hadn't made prior arrangements to pick up Jill so I could leave on Monday instead.
86. left for downtown.

part nine: glory fades

89. made a NASCAR loop around downtown for 20 minutes.
90. swore at Chicago drivers.
91. swore at street signs that were more deocrative than functional.
92. finally made it to where I was supposed to be.

part ten: Indiana, why bother?

93. decided Jill's GPS was a better idea than my other directions.
94. GPS smoked crack.
95. took an extra 15 minutes to get on the damn expressway.
96. got on the damn expressway.
97. watched as it started to snow.
98. played the radio game*
99. stopped driving.
100. smiled.

Anyone else find it pretty fucking silly that Beyonce titled her new album I Am...Sasha Fierce?

I love the city always.

Driving is for poor people and I am not that big of a fan. At least in my homeland of Chicago.

I can't wait to be home. That's where my heart is.

So, what happened:

Part one: in transit.

1. packed a lunch
2. started driving.
3. realized somewhere around New Buffalo I forgot my glasses.
4. Decided it was unnecessary on a scale of 1-10.
5. didn't die despite efforts from wind and looming thoughts of ominous deer.
6. sarcastically thanked mom for putting the thoughts of the deer in my head.
7. listened to genius lite rock radio coming out of South Bend
8. asked if I was there yet
9. realized I hadn't made it to Indiana.
10. made it to Indiana.
11. decided Valparaiso is just fun to say.
12. thought about stalking Kevin, my old english teacher.
13. thought better of it.
14. asked if I was there yet.
15. paid tolls.
16. tried not to think about what would happen if the road were to collapse over a given body of water.
17. thought about what would happen if the road were to collapse over a given body of water.
18. made it to Illinois.
19. paid tolls.
20. Listened to genius radio out of Chicago.
21. tried not to think about what would happen if the bridge were to collapse over a given body of water.
22. thought about what would happen if the bridge were to collapse over a given body of water.
23. entered Chicago city limits

Part two: in the city, I think

24. had mild panic attack anticipating the twattiness of Chicago drivers.
25. realized my fears were only kind of founded.
26. got into a traffic jam.
27. jammed to "Copacabana" by Barry Manilow
28. missed my exit due to Illinois no knowing how to label exits.
29. sat at the world's longest light.
30. cursed Chicago's urban developers.
31. jammed to "Cath" by Death Cab For Cutie
32. tried to stop at a Starbucks.
33. found zero parking anywhere nearby.
34. found a Starbucks at the Dominick's at the other end of the parking lot.
35. got coffee.
36. tried to read.
37. got bored.
38. found the liquor aisle.
39. found 1.75 liters of Skyy vodka for $20.00
40. Purchased vodka and chips.
41. got back in the car.
42. got lost (the fun kind)
43. got lost (the less fun kind)
44. got un-lost
45. tried to visit Devon.
46. refused to pay for parking.
47. found zero parking.
48. had the urge to pee.
49. regretted driving.
50. paid thirty-five cents for a pack of juicy fruit and pissing privileges at a very well lit BP.
51. got frustrated.
52. smoked in an IHOP parking lot.
53. got a call from Matt.

Part three: I finally stop driving.

54. locate Matt.
55. locate Matt's apartment.
56. collapse with joy that I have finally stopped driving after five hours.
57. start drinking.

part four: our weekend starts halfway into Saturday night.

58. continue to drink while Matt showers.
59. realized I was drunk off of one drink.
60. hung out with Matt's roommate and tried not to be awkward.
61. was only moderately successful.
62. decide on dinner plans
63. leave for dinner.

part five: of mice and Kanye

64. buy Yellow Tail pinot noir for dinner
65. get amazing thai
66. make loose plans to meet up with other friends later.
67. pay bill.

It makes me think I'm going for some sort of record.

Okay. More things straightened out. More things to fret over.

Leaving Saturday. Check. Staying with Matt (whatever that means). Check.

However, I now have the following to worry about: Matt doesn't get off work until 8. p.m. I wanted to bypass weekend traffic by going early. If I go early, I am met with the task of anal rape parking rates, and the daunting task of amusing myself. I made plans to hang out with Devon, but I don't know what time that's going to happen.

I have not called Kenny yet. I'm not sure I want to, considering the shenanigans that happened the last time he was in town. But, he did do me the courtesy of calling when he was here. He could potentially fix my boredom problem. Dammit. The only problem with getting ahold of him is that it is a fucking production. Like if you want to hang out with him, you should call two hours earlier than logic dictates. Fucking ridiculous, those English mafia dudes are.

I've got "Dashboard" by Modest Mouse stuck in my head. Considering the situation I have currently put myself in, I am not sure if that's the best thing. Also the album its on is called We Were Dead Before the Ship Even Sank. Oh it would have been, could have been, worse than you will ever know...

Whatever that means.

You say I'm crazy. I got your crazy. Womanizer. Fucking Britney's army of Swede pop geniuses.

I kind of want to get drunk tonight.

I love the city tonight.

I love the city tonight

yeah I'm updating back to back. Don't get used to it, I've just spent a retarded amount of time in my head, and if I don't get it out, my head may just very well explode.

So I am planning to drive to Chicago (all things go, all things go), and I have no place to stay. On a scale of 1-10, I am not that worried about finding one. I could stay with Kenny, Devon, or Matt. The only place this becomes problematic is where I was attracted to all three of them at one point in time or another. Or now. Which is a point in time. I am also looking at departure times. If I leave right after work on friday afternoon, I am still in Chicago in the thick of rush hour which does not bode well for my mental state of being. If I leave anytime after 5, it will be dark as balls and possibly in the thick of party transit. Weekend traffic is always a biiiiitch. If I leave early saturday morning, I bypass the retarded traffic factor, but I only have 24 hours to get everybody plus my agenda in.

Speaking of agendas, I don't really know what mine is. In regards to the trip, in regards to the boys, in regards to... life. I don't know what I want from Matt, because part of me is undoubetly attracted to him. But let's not be so hasty to forget that he kind of devastated me a little when he broke up with me. I don't know what I want from Devon, because he is undoubetedly cool and kinda crazy, but in the totally cool way. Sometimes I want him. I think he's moving to Japan. Figures.

So I'll go hunting for witches.

Shit, son.

Is the sun out yet?

I will be collecting advice on the leaving/sleeping situation.

Now playing: "Loretta Young Silks" - Sneaker Pimps

There is not nearly enough new wave in my life

So is it really lame that I never realized that "Your Woman" by White Town was about a guy in love with a lesbian?

Shut up, I realize the song is like eleven years old, but still....

Also obsessing about the Snow Patrol single "Take Back the City". This is mostly due to the chorus being catchy and simple as fuck, but also due to the fact that VH1 loves to play the video when I wake up in the morning.

Totally buggin about the roadtrip that I may or may not take. At this point, driving's cheaper than the train, but the thing about driving is I get anxious and paranoid and I need a xanax just to make it to the Walgreens down the street, let alone 150ish miles in a direction I have never driven in before. We'll see. The city met me with a slightly icy reception the last time I went home, but this time already looks to be better than the last. I will watch the weather, and align my planets. Godspeed, you black universe!

Fucking A. Let's watch Hair.

Let the sun shine in.

I miss the old NIN.

Needless to say, today I have had the golden touch in locating old mixes with jams I love. God is an American.

The 80s miss me. 85% of my recreational music happens to be songs sung by for and about robots. Not in the obnoxious Katy Perry way, but in the Depeche Mode/New Order/David Bowie kind of way.

Done with work.

Seacrest out!

Now Playing: "Bizzare Love Triangle" - New Order

Things I am not saying out loud. (you're a slave to yourself and you don't even know)

watch out kids, this could get ugly. The less I see the sun, the more I retreat into myself.

1. I could like Matt again, even though he devastated me the first time we broke up. I generally don't like to repeat dating mistakes, but the more I talk to him, the more I miss him, dammit.
2. I feel like everyone is constantly looking down on me.
3. (Personal pronoun abuse aside,) I feel like with the variety of relationship opportunities that I have had, the only constant is me, which leads to the conclusion that the problem isn't with "them" it's with me.
3a. but what's the problem? Is my personality that terrible? Am I that overweight? Is my fashion sense that askew? Am I that shitty of a person? Am I that smart? Am I that dumb?
4. I was pissy at dinner last night and nobody noticed. We had constructed a plan earlier for me to get fake pissy at dinner, but as the night wore on, I became real pissy. So that one really is my fault, because out of the four other people I was eating with, two were in on it, and one caught on right away. But that doesn't count because a) she was eventually let in on the plan, and b) she's a girl.
4a. I am the type of person to say everything's fine, especially when it's not, and then get depressed when everybody assumes that everything's fine. Ridiculous, I know.
5. I am so jealous of Jill. Everybody loves her and falls all over themselves to be with her and be in her good graces. Everybody likes her so much better and I can't stand it. Well, let me clarify: I can stand it, it just depresses the hell out of me. And I think that is where some of what #2 comes from. Like people only put up with me because I am Jill's roommate.

I told you this was ugly.

This trail mix is disgusting, and now is a good a time as any to do my homework.

Religious views: Devout Playlistism

I thought I was quitting boys. I fell off the wagon twice this summer, and once after school started.

because we count instances, not boys.

I think I am going to quit them again. The entirety of the summer involved my pursuit of a boy named Keith. He's 23, from a small town towards the middle of the state, graduated and now a flight instructor. He gets paid to fly planes. Pretty conservative, and pretty into his faith (Catholic). Of course I had to go and fall for him. Because opposites attract, right? We will call this Mayish, maybe early June. Fast forward to um, September. I have made a bad decision with two boys out in the sticks of Michigan (not as scandalous as it sounds), fallen prey to the syndrome that only affects single girls at weddings, and made out with my neighbor from across the hall (which is a lot of drama all by itself). Word got to Keith that I liked him. Nothing happened. Word got to me that Keith liked me. More nothing, even though the record is till fuzzy as to if he knows that I know.

I don't make the first move.

Fast forward to October. Nothing's changed. Except me. I got bored. To be honest, I think he did too. The thing I will always hate about nice guys (forever and ever amen) is I can't tell when they're flirting and when they are just being themselves. I think he's moved on to my roommate. I can't tell because 1. this kid is habitually nice. All the time. and 2. Every time I project and think that a guy likes her, it turns out to be untrue. Sometimes.

Maybe it is just me.

It's always just me.

I think that's enough navel gazing for one morning.

now playing: " Early Morning" - Britney Spears

a town called malice

malice, malice baby

too cold too cold.

Reading The Brief Wonderous Life of Oscar Wao by Junot Diaz and its pretty fucking brilliant so far. I want to get a bottle of wine (or whatever relaxing beverage I can get ahold of) and just finish the book out.

I'm actually reading a lot of really good books this summer.

I've been recreationally reading On Beauty by Zadie Smith.

I love it.

Love it all.

I should write more this summer. More than my requiste one poem a month.

Apparently there is going to be a movie version of Oscar Wao. Well at least there is talk of it.

...and you coming back to me is against the odds, and that's a chance I'll have to take.

What is anybody afraid of.

Fearless.

The more I think about it I want a huge honkin' sidepiece.

I'm obsessed.

baby, I'm a blur and saying anything

Grades are posted and it looks lke I'm up to my old tricks. I failed my lecture hall course (the one where you are nothing but a first initial and a last name and a number among a sea of 60-100+ people), did ok in my other minor course (CB), and pwned my major courses (B, BA, and A). I will graciously accept the A and the B (due to them being retakes), but that BA bothers me. It was in my 500 level poetry workshop and I did all the work, including outside of class readings, and my poem revision was hella brilliant. Whatevs. Over it. Over it. OVER IT.

I want another tattoo. I want either my Sage Francis quote (live to tell the story), raven, or my numeral 7.I'm thinking on my ankle or on my wrist.

I'm a beautiful little tattooed gum-chewing freak.

Let me tell you about saturday. I was drunk on vodka (which had not happened in years, let me tell you), and I was outside my friend Elena's apartment, having a smoke. I was doing cartwheels and moshing by myself. It's not as stupid as it sounds, my Elena lives on the first floor and her window was open so I could still see and hear everything. But anyway...I was moshing by myself (possibly to Paramore), and I headbanged my way into a brick pillar. Right on my industrial piercing. Son. Of. A. Preacher. Man. Did it ever hurt. I wake up the next day with all kinds of headachey goodness. I touch my ear to check on my piercing, and I find that the ball on the lower end has fallen off. I locate it, and then attempt to screw it back on, only to find that IT WON'T SCREW ON. In fact, nothing short of krazy glue will keep that sucker on. How do you hit your head so hard you break a screw? I was worried I was concussed, but by monday I was fine. My head hurts again today, but I'm going to go ahead and blame that on the two long beaches I had last night. My vision is also blurry, but when I wear my glasses its okay. I'm going to chalk that up to a poor diet.

Also in other body mod related news: I'm going home tomorrow. With a new hole in my head. My mom barely approved of the industrial, let's see how she reacts to the surgical steel jammed through my nose.

revved up like a deuce?

The ugly friend/drum lessons/hello operator

There's this concept I have come to personify: the ugly ftriend. The one that's pretty...cool (outside the bedroom), and may even be attractive, maybe, independent of the others. It hit me thrusday and all I wanted to do was sit and cry. And consume all the booze I could.

It started thursday afternoon, when the cute boy at work started macking on my coworker. And I think she likes him back. She just broke up with her boyfriend for what could be the the 238,348,853,723,762nd time, and she's a vegan and I'm fairly certain that was Handel's Messiah to the boy's ears. So I was really upset by that. And then we went to the bar and I had wine and lots of other booze and I was starting to feel better but then all my friends kept getting hit on and I was like shit goddamn, I can't catch a break, and then I thought I was going to cry in the bathroom (my trademark, I'm startng to notice) but I didn't. I came close and then some girl came in and I have this complex about people seeing or hearing me cry, so I cut that shit out. And then friday, I worked withTheresa, who is my favorite. But she is gorgeous and all the students hit on her, even if they are old and creepy. And she's smart, and she's cool. We went to a party that night, and every one we went with was so pretty and I really just wanted to lay down and cry/die. The only two things those nights had in common were that I was there and that I didn't get hit on, which only led me to the conclusion that I am THE UGLY FRIEND. Everybody has one. I assumed it was someone else.

It really is enough to make a girl invent an eating disorder.

Smokerexic?

Whatever it is is going to kill me and they will have to name the condition after me.

I want to take drum lessons.

The only way to get over drummers is to become one.

This will not be cut-pasted into my myspace blog, because the persona I have constructed doesn't have these issues. She used to wear her heart on her sleeve and then she changed shirts. She rocks a little too hard, drives a little to fast, thinks a little too much and loves life like it's her job.

That's not me right now.

its a start that won't turn over

I am officially nostalgic for the nineties. I love the nineties as a whole but spesifically the mid to late nineties when things lightened the fuck up. They had a zeigeist that I never saw before and have not seen since. Pretentiousness was frowned upon, and it was about how real you could get it. Well, to a degree anyway. There were definite things and guarantees. There was so much color. It's not like it hurts that much anyway.

We are in times of black and gumetal gray. Our paradigm poses the question of "how fake can it be and still exist?"

Blurring the edges so they blend together properly.

So my life is nothing but a giant theme party.

Last week's theme was suck.

This week's theme is AWKWARD.

Monday was the mother of all awkward days, nothing was particularly awkward yesterday (well not in a way that directly affects me), and I am fully prepared for the awkwardness that today and tomorrow and the day after and the day after that will bring.

Let's start from the beginning. monday I was macked on, and romantic advances are always awkward. I won't get into it because my ego doesn't get that big. But then, at the Carl Phillips reading I had to go to for class, I bump into my studies in drama professor. We catch up, its cute. But then. But then. Then he proceeds to correct me on a quote I attributed to him in livejournal. IN DECEMBER. And then I proceeded to get creeped the fuck out because my teacher READ MY LIVEJOURNAL. Well I guess I shouldn't be shocked because its linked on my facebook. Maybe a few other places as well, I can't remember. Maybe he googled himself. I'm glad there's this little sanctuary where I have not shamelessly linked and nobody knows about my horrific crushes and trainwreck love life.

Things that my old Professor now could know about me:
-I kissed a former student of his that I'm pretty sure he is on VERY good terms with.
-I have a crush on aformentioned former student
-I procrastinated the FUCK out of the final paper for his class.
-I secretly aspire to act.
-I had a fleeting crush on a student IN the class
-I got stoned the night of Central/Western
-I have a sobriety problem
-Tony issues.
-I am a shitty, shitty writer.

I can be a poetess.

I wish it was spring.

I wish for Spring to awaken me.

Art is hard.