I had something specific in mind when I sat down to write this, but now, of course, it elludes me.
Damn.
I guess I'll just go where the words take me then.
I think I'm going to put some tortillas in the oven and see if I can make my own chips.
I don't want to go to those parties anymore. I'm all responsibility and no fun. It's gotten to the point that I envy the other kids their fun because they're rocking out and I can't get into it. It's actually a pretty hard loss. But. I think I'd rather take your company in larger, more private doses. I'm really one of your friends, dear boys, and not just some chick at your party. Although that does cut down on the liklihood of being one of your shameless hookups, well, that's kind of a plus now, isn't it?
I don't know why, but this letter, to me, seems to be taking a rather melodramatic twist. How unfortunate. I cannot properly express my love for all my Loves.
I was talking to my wonderful roommate Liz, the other day and we spoke on the matter of friendships. How, for example, there are many kinds of friendship and many ways in which to express it. The two of us tend to express our caring and our love through Service. There are few things that I enjoy more than doing something to help out one of my friends. Or, not even help, just doing something nice. Renting you that movie, burning you that cd, buying you lunch. Making you dinner. Helping you clean. It just brings me joy and brings me closer to my loves.
However,
there are times when it can wear one a little thin. If it is expected. If it is overlooked. If it is unappreciated. Then it's much less fun and there's much less love. I've seen how it wears on people. I've seen that horrible look in a friend's eyes when something they really invested in is skimmed over or tossed aside.
What I'm really trying to say is this:
I love you.
Yes,
dear reader,
You.
Also, don't put your presents in the freezer. It's rude.
Sunday, August 30, 2009
Monday, August 24, 2009
So, I've been thinking and pondering and pandering lately and it turns out that the majority of my friends (who are my age) are getting married. Or are at least in serious, committed, we'll-be-married-by-the-end-of-the-year type relationships. Which is great.
If you're into that sort of thing.
The turning point of this here blog happens now, as it turns out, I am, in fact, not into that sort of thing. Not at all.
However,
it does make one think about thier own dubious relationship status when everyone around you is seeking lifelong bliss thru holy matrimony.
Don't get me wrong, I've nothing against marriage, I've only a few things against 'love' and I've zero against tax breaks. But, if that's the headliner on why I want a relationship, well, I may need to re-think things.
I was facebooking, like you do, and I happened upon an old flame, as it were, who just got married. Honeymoon in the bahamas and everything. Such a dream. For me, it turns out to be only the stuff of pipes. This kid, (let's pretend you don't know him) was supposed to lead me around on the white sandy beaches of "Sandals Resort". HAHAHA. Thank God for those small blessings, eh?
Anyway, all these folks are pairing off, and while I don't think there's anything wrong with me, I do wonder what all the fuss is about.
If you're into that sort of thing.
The turning point of this here blog happens now, as it turns out, I am, in fact, not into that sort of thing. Not at all.
However,
it does make one think about thier own dubious relationship status when everyone around you is seeking lifelong bliss thru holy matrimony.
Don't get me wrong, I've nothing against marriage, I've only a few things against 'love' and I've zero against tax breaks. But, if that's the headliner on why I want a relationship, well, I may need to re-think things.
I was facebooking, like you do, and I happened upon an old flame, as it were, who just got married. Honeymoon in the bahamas and everything. Such a dream. For me, it turns out to be only the stuff of pipes. This kid, (let's pretend you don't know him) was supposed to lead me around on the white sandy beaches of "Sandals Resort". HAHAHA. Thank God for those small blessings, eh?
Anyway, all these folks are pairing off, and while I don't think there's anything wrong with me, I do wonder what all the fuss is about.
Monday, August 3, 2009
There's something here, something that needs to be said, needs to be let go, but it's all wrapped up in there. All twisted and digging into the coils of my brain. It's one of those days where the backspace key is the one i hit the most because my fingers can't correctly keep up with the trip my brain is taking. Things have been shady, but it's only because of the light that there are ever shadows.
"If you wanna be their friend, be honest and un-merciful"
"Rock and roll can save the world, the chicks are great. I sound like a dick!"
Okay, so that last one didn't have a thing to do with a thing, but it's something I wanted to write. Because it's awesome. I have no moods these days. At the beginning of this page, I'm all emo and dark and then, two sentences ago, things are awesome. What the eff. Who the eff is this kid, this girl, this silly thing? Hahahaha
I don't know.
You don't know.
You don't know who you are!
That reminds me of a mewithoutyou song, but I can't remember the lyrics. I sound like a crazy person. This happens sometimes when i need to write. i just write the things that come up, they dont make sense, maybe, later, if i think any of it was any good i'll go back and dig some stuff out and add capitals (capitols?) {I think it's with an a} and puncutation. Do you see what happened there? i got all caught up in that shiz i was writing that i lost all sense of grammar. It comes and goes. like that. see? Did it again. hahahahahahaaaaa
I.am.a.crazy.person
i/am/a/writer
There's this sense of restlessness in the air for me right now. i want to travel, i want to eat, i want to write. but i dont want to work for any of that to happen. i guessi grew up dreaming that if i wanted something badly enough it would just sort of happen for/to me. i think it stems from the following incident:
I'm 6 or so years old and i'm at this christmas crafts fair (my mahmaw {mom} used to make stuff to sell and people ate that shit up!) and i really really really want this hand painted wooden cut out of a rocking horse. some old lady was selling them. i wanted it soooo bad. you have no idea. we mature adults never want things the way kids do. sure, we want things in a different, more hormonal way, but it's not stronger. not stronger, just deeper. grosser. (more gross?)
anyhow, i wanted that cheap little ornament, but my mom wouldn't give me the cash and my dad said i could have money, but only for a hotdog. actually, i think that's a lie. i don't remember my dad being there that day. i think he was at work. maybe. or he was sleeping. the night shift, you know? SO. I'm looking at this rocking horse with my pockets turned out and i'm conciously letting this old bird know i want this thing. she notices me looking, picking it up, turning it about, making it gallop down the display. and i remember, i swear this is true, i remember thinking, if i look cute enough, she'll give me this horse.
and she did.
she gave me that fucking horse because i was 'such a sweet, cute little girl'
sucker.
but really, that old lady ruined my work ethic.
"If you wanna be their friend, be honest and un-merciful"
"Rock and roll can save the world, the chicks are great. I sound like a dick!"
Okay, so that last one didn't have a thing to do with a thing, but it's something I wanted to write. Because it's awesome. I have no moods these days. At the beginning of this page, I'm all emo and dark and then, two sentences ago, things are awesome. What the eff. Who the eff is this kid, this girl, this silly thing? Hahahaha
I don't know.
You don't know.
You don't know who you are!
That reminds me of a mewithoutyou song, but I can't remember the lyrics. I sound like a crazy person. This happens sometimes when i need to write. i just write the things that come up, they dont make sense, maybe, later, if i think any of it was any good i'll go back and dig some stuff out and add capitals (capitols?) {I think it's with an a} and puncutation. Do you see what happened there? i got all caught up in that shiz i was writing that i lost all sense of grammar. It comes and goes. like that. see? Did it again. hahahahahahaaaaa
I.am.a.crazy.person
i/am/a/writer
There's this sense of restlessness in the air for me right now. i want to travel, i want to eat, i want to write. but i dont want to work for any of that to happen. i guessi grew up dreaming that if i wanted something badly enough it would just sort of happen for/to me. i think it stems from the following incident:
I'm 6 or so years old and i'm at this christmas crafts fair (my mahmaw {mom} used to make stuff to sell and people ate that shit up!) and i really really really want this hand painted wooden cut out of a rocking horse. some old lady was selling them. i wanted it soooo bad. you have no idea. we mature adults never want things the way kids do. sure, we want things in a different, more hormonal way, but it's not stronger. not stronger, just deeper. grosser. (more gross?)
anyhow, i wanted that cheap little ornament, but my mom wouldn't give me the cash and my dad said i could have money, but only for a hotdog. actually, i think that's a lie. i don't remember my dad being there that day. i think he was at work. maybe. or he was sleeping. the night shift, you know? SO. I'm looking at this rocking horse with my pockets turned out and i'm conciously letting this old bird know i want this thing. she notices me looking, picking it up, turning it about, making it gallop down the display. and i remember, i swear this is true, i remember thinking, if i look cute enough, she'll give me this horse.
and she did.
she gave me that fucking horse because i was 'such a sweet, cute little girl'
sucker.
but really, that old lady ruined my work ethic.
Saturday, August 1, 2009
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