In Which I Get Nervous and Nostalgic All At Once

So these deadlines are zooming upon me much faster than I am comfortable with. In a week and then a week after that, I will find out if these people see potential in me. This is utterly terrifying. I try to avoid wanting things too badly, because it tends to end in disappointment. But oh my god, I want this. I. Want. This. As a result, the closer the deadline gets, the more nervous I get. Sleep is almost a joke (although to be honest,I've never been good at sleeping longer than 5-7 hours), as of late, food has been cool, but not the obsession that it usually is (even though that might be the tobacco remnants from monday still kicking around in my system).

I'm worried that virtually every single bad thing I do is going to count against me karmically.

That reminds me, I should call my mom.

Let's hear it for this heat wave! I think that maybe Austin's not ready for me yet. But perhaps the cool factor woruld balance the hot factor and I'd be okay after all.

Sometimes I wish I wasn't an only child.

Sometimes I wish I was a mind reader.

This makes me smile though:

In Which I Learn My Lesson (Disclaimer)

Which is to say, the master creeper has been creeped. It's a weird feeling, because I'm not sure of the logistics of how I got creeped in the first place, even though it is entirely possible to do so. I guess I shouldn't say things if I can't handle the fallout. Welcome to the internet.

But that being said, I am not going to apologize for how I felt a particular moment in time, nor am I going to apologize for how I currently feel. I can't help those things, and that's why they're feelings and not rational reactionings. I think I'm allowed to "blow things out of proportion" out here because that's how it is in my head. That's where I spend a lot (bordering on too much) time. I have a thought, it either amuses or bothers me, I vomit it out, and move on. Its either that or She-Hulk out on everything and everyone around me and that can't be healthy.

Anyone who legitimately knows me knows I have a mouth on me, and I can shoot it off quite proficiently.

This is the death of auto-tune, moment of silence.

Last night, Kenny was back to do a comedy show. Of course I went. The comedians were pretty funny, but I mean get a few adult beverages in me, and of course everyone's a fucking riot. It wasn't as validating as the last one, but it was still a good time. Even Mini showed up, which was cool because I don't get to see her that often. After the show, Mini and I called her friend Cody for snacks. But before the snacks came the hookah. Far too much hookah. The last time I had hookah was around the time that dares not speak its name four years ago. I came home feeling like hell at 3:30 and passed out shortly thereafter. It was worth it. I feel fine now, but it was touch and go for awhile. I gotta learn to pace myself. On the upside, I came out of it with a fantastic potential dancing buddy. One that will go to the gay bar with me no less! Lord knows I love dancing. Lord knows I love a gay bar.

Today might be a day for swimming. But that means shaving. We'll see.

I should stay in and clean, but this weather is making me forget how to act.

In Which I Regret That Time Travel is Not Yet Possible

More insecurity vomit. Adjust yourself accordingly.

New blog post with 25% MORE NEUROSIS!

This thing is like my therapist. I like talking about my problems, just not out loud. Verbalizing them just makes me feel weak. Is there such a thing as an e-therapist? I think that unloading my problems on a select few, or on a world that just silently listens is something comforting and appealing. I can be as weak as I need to be for a few minutes and then I can go back to my ballsy-take-no-prisoners persona. But anyway, back to the show!

I trust Matt. I really do. I can trust him all I want until the cows come home, but that's not going to change the behavior of other people and I don't like having hope as my only option.

That's the essence of trust, I guess. And I'm finding I don't like trusting other people when it comes to the big major stuff.

The Problem
This time the trigger was a simple photo. His friend (yeah that one that has been the bane of my existence and the root of all my insecurity for the past few/several months) changed her profile photo on facebook to one of her and Matt. And her last few statuses have been really flirty and cryptic. (Oh, the joys of having an indoor cat job and not having anything better to do other than hitting refresh on facebook.) And I know better than to read into it as much as I am, but I can't help it. Lord only knows why. I'm soothing myself with the fact that this girl changes her profile picture several times a week, and soon I'll be seeing another picture of her stupid, gorgeous mug all over my stalkerfeed. I looked at the album, there were 81 pictures. EIGHTY FRIGGING ONE. Not all of them were of her and not all of them were of Matt. I realize that they're really good friends but WHAT THE FRIGGING HELL. (please pardon my tone, the yelling may continue.) DID SHE HAVE TO CHOOSE ONE OF HER AND MY BOYFRIEND? I know it's stupid and petty and one of the hazards of dating in the modern age, but I still want to punch a baby or kick a puppy. And then smoke a cigarette.

What Fucking Solution?
The logical conclusion one who is not me may draw is to talk to him (or her) about it. The logical retort I deliver is and say/do what? What's the next step? None are apparent. And besides, I would just look crazy and insecure and possessive, and while I do not deny my possession of all of those traits (often at once), I like to keep the visible evidence of that to an absolute minimum. But we all knew this. There is no solution, or even compromise to be reached. I thought I could just suck it up until August, when she was supposed to be leaving for LA, but alas, she won't be leaving until December. I think it won't be long until my crazy reaches critical mass. But raise your hand if you are loving bearing witness to my descent into madness!

My solution is this girl needs a boyfriend. Done and done.

Or is this whole ordeal some sort of test? What am I supposed to be learning? Is the true solution that my blood sugar's probably low and I should just eat something?

I'm going to read and forget that this ever happened. I do need to read more and spend less time on that sanity trap Facebook.

God Bless you, world. God bless you, Folk Implosion.

In Which Everything and Everyone Pisses Me Off, Including Myself

Yesterday was bad, mentally. The weather was gorgeous, which I greatly appreciate in Michigan, but oh my GAWD (yes the broad New England accent was necessary), I thought I was going to end up on the 11 o'clock news for a homicide spree. I think its my period, but I am pretty sure I would have been cranky even if my chemicals were ricocheting (when did I become such a horrible speller? this does not look like the correct spelling, but apparently it is). Coworkers, roommates, people at the bus depot (I thought I was going to have to clock this dude because I thought he looked at me funny, but in my defense, it is the bus depot.) Jill and Keith and I went out for dinner and drinks on the mall, but Jill was being difficult, and nothing looked good on me. I felt fat and like buying into the notion that I was less than because of my weight or my race or whatever.

But other than that, the food was fantastic (went to Kalammazoo's other tapas restaurant...who knew?), the drinks were expensive but tasty (a $7 mojito?!?), and the weather was chilly but pleasant.

I think some of my parade rain came from the fact that whenever I go out with Jill and a boy, or multiple boys, I inevitably get ignored in favor of her. Trite, petty, selfish...myriad other unpleasant and immature adjectives come to mind to describe the notion that I articulated, but it is the truth. And I know that it should only matter that a few people love me, but I can't help that I want to be everyone's favorite person all the fucking time. And apparently this is the way I really feel (as opposed to kind of feel) because I literally am choking back tears.

Fuck you too, hormones.

One day my blues will be a bitchen shade of teal.

This is not helping my positivity. But you know what did? I talked to Matt this morning, and we were looking at this calendar of free events at Millennium Park in Chicago. I said something about scheming to get off work, and then he said something along the lines of for most of these you'll already be here. Apparently, positivity can be contagious.

I think part of my birthday present from somebody is seeing Vampire Weekend in Chicago on the Sunday before my birthday. I am determined to have my birthday be a big deal this year. I'll be twenty-five, and goddammit, someone besides me should be glad I'm alive.

Apparently all I needed was to vomit verbally a little bit.

I do feel better. I am going to create my own feel good hit of the summer.

So The Kenyon Review Rejected Me, But I Am More Than Okay With That

I just have to remember that "adventure is just one mistake away". (A Softer World no. 334)

In Which I Am Thinking Positively

So its all sent. And now its all a matter of waiting. I bought a pack of smokes, and they are going pretty quickly. I have 17 and 23 days before I know anything, but I bought a pair of shoes and a pencil skirt for an interview, I started looking for an apartment and a boyfriend blazer, and at least the apartments look optimistic.

It looks like I can pick up a couple extra hours at work for the next few weeks. This is very very good.

I know I've said it before, but I keep thinking it: I think I like worrying. If I'm not worrying about my body, I am worrying about my future, if I'm not worrying about my future, I'm worrying about my finances, if I'm not worrying about any of those things, I am worrying about my relationship, if I'm not worrying about that I'm worrying that I don't have anything to worry about. Somebody give me a paper bag.

Aside from the ship business, right now I'm kind of back in this whole "is he losing interest" bullshit. I take the slightest pause, every unreturned text as a sign that Matt's having second thoughts. I have no idea where this comes from. Maybe its PMS, maybe its the crazy amplified by the hormones, maybe its because my mom's right and I am "depressed" and looking for yet another reason to hate myself.

As if I needed to look.

Holy emo.

I'm going to pretend that those words were never typed, but not really because if I really wanted to do that, I could just backspace the shit out of it.

I just had a moment where that was the opposite of staying positive. Fuck that shit.

This is not going to be a cruel summer.

In Which I Might Start Smoking and Eating Old Pills Again

This weekend was awkward. Among the events that occured:

- cock blocked by a law enforcement officer
- while avoiding a lecture on sex, got a lecture on aesthetics and piercings and tattoos

All aboard the trippin train. I was supposed to secure my nomination materials for this fellowship yesterday. It is now tuesday, and I have not heard anything from these people...er...person. The deadline to have everything submitted is by 5pm on friday. Three days from now. I'm getting really anxious because if I don't secure all the things I need to apply, everything will be riding on my This American Life application, which I am the opposite of comfortable with. Let's stop thinking about it becase the more I think about it, the more I want to cry.

Also, if one's long distance, long term significant other were to inquire as to the next rendezvous, and one repied with a potential time frame, and then one's SO replied to the reply there will already be six people staying at the apartment, what would that imply?

I guess somebody's not getting laid until june. Its just as well, the finances would be a lot of work anyway.

Gossip Girl is like crack and I am so late to that party and I am so mad, because I love it. My politics hate it, but my TV watcher loves it.

xoxo

In Which I Am Bruised and Happy

I made a semi-impromptu trip to Chicago this weekend, just to blow off some stress. And the fact that Boyfriend is there never hurts either. I haven't felt that liberated in a long time.

Friday was low-key after I got in 30-40ish minutes later than expected. We had snacks, TV, cocktails, and sex (sorry, that just worked too well). More or less in that order. Saturday was nice, so we went to free comic book day, walked around and went to the movies. Kick-Ass was really entertaining and I have not been that entertained by a child actor in a long time. I am totally going to be Hit Girl for Halloween. The bottles of Sutter Home stashed in my purse weren't hurting things either. We came back, I took a wine nap while Matt watched TV, and I woke up and watched more TV. And then...wow.

Two hours later its close to 5 am, and we decide we were going to try to watch the sun rise through the rain on the lake. We made it a few blocks, said fuck this, and grabbed breakfast instead. Soaking wet, we took the long way home (yes, I'm alluding to exactly what you're thinking I'm alluding to).

The rest of Sunday, we slept it off until it was time for me to get ready to go.

I finished my This American Life internship application. For better or for worse, its sent, and now all I can do is cross my fingers and hope for the best around and on June first. My fellowship application isn't due for a bit, so now I'm taking it easy before I hop on the trippin train again.

For the first time in a really long time, I'm excited about the future on several fronts. I'm excited for the impending exhaustion of working 2 jobs four days a week, the challenge of working with whichever 'ship I land and by extension, living in the same city/state/time zone as my boyfriend, and my future with someone who loves me. Bring it on, world!

That's all, mini-vacation until the 17th. I'll probably be in touch anyway.