Theft

I stole the idea of a 'double puberty' from Dana.
She just wrote about it and you should read it, it isn't nearly as gross as it sounds, more just an interesting idea. Second puberty being how your body changes into something ready for adult life and child bearing and stuff. Post 'settling down' type stuff.
Pear shaped body and child bearing hips type stuff.

There's nothing wrong with pear shaped. Not at all. A dress size ten is certainly not shameful. These things are adult and shapely and curvy and sexual in a way that I'm not, never have been, and am not ready to be. There's not a single thing wrong with it, I'm just not prepared for what it represents.
I don't want to grow up, I don't want to get old. I feel like I have so much more to do for myself, selfishly, before I can 'settle down', bulk up, learn to cook, and re-produce.
This 'second puberty' represents something beautiful and lovely and life-changing, but I'm a baby...

Chekov

This extended weekend I:

slept in my bed once
ate sushi
watched 'where the wild things are'
got my friends drunk
worked
learned a new song
worked
jumped on beds
slept it off
locomoted around a store using only the joints in my ankles
fell down the stairs
fell off the couch
watched Dexter
stole a phone
smoked cigars
drove around, windows down, heat on
made plans
broke plans
dance danced
smashed super bros
wore boots
cleaned rooms
loved friends

Dexter

I just need to talk about Dexter.
I don't really know what to say but I love it.

so much

My Violet Hill

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.

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.

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.

Oh Dear God

I make mistakes. I say dumb things. But Dear God is there to make it all go away, right?
Right.
Sorry.

Mi mi mi mind

I've been doing a lot of sitting on the balcony and thinking today. It's so so nice out. No humidity for once this summer. So, I've been sitting and thinking and writing and napping. All good things. My head is getting a littler clearer for it, and my heart a little lighter.
I try to keep things pretty surface over here at Special Homecoming Outlaws, I need some lightness in my world of words, so I'll try not to go into too much right now.
But
Sitting in the sun and thinking about the coincidences in the past couple of days in my life has really, really, I don't know, given me something. I'm not sure what this is. Good, I think, but unusual. I've made some pretty shoddy decisions lately, and said some pretty stupid things, which I regret. In the moments that they're are said or done, it doesn't seem to matter, like it's some alternative world and I will in no way be held responsible for my actions. My words.
Which is a shame because it's a lie. And a waste of perfectly good words. As Hope would say, 'it's like the words are dying...' oh emo.

I really am getting better. The cold jealousy that starts in your belly and runs to your heart, that's going away. I'm feeling much less like a gutted fish when I look at you. My face no longer burns with what I want to say and my heart has stopped skipping when you walk into the room.

I know now that I love him, but no more than I've ever loved the others. And while that could be quite a bit,

it's not.

Summer Skin

I cannot keep my skin from peeling off. That's how I know my summer is going well. Usually, I'm pale as sin and don't get sun at all. Not that there's anything wrong with that, it's my norm. But but but, this summer, I've been getting out and about a lot. Float trip, pool-side time, balcony writing. Good things, good things.
However, I look like a lizard person and it's not cute.
Such is the price.