Wednesday, December 29, 2010

it's most horrible time of the year

the holidays, that is.

maybe it's the forced interaction. maybe it's being snowed in for days upon end. maybe it's simply being away from my own space.

or maybe it's all the work i've done in psychoanalysis that has me realizing how the environment in which i was raised has really fucked me up.

i believe to an extent that your happiness is your own responsibility. and so, i will not be held responsible for other people's unhappiness. not anymore.

i realize that, in part, the reason that i wake up everyday feeling like i am a bad person is a function of being raised in a house where you were constantly criticized. i all day long. where nothing you did was ever good enough. and where you were expected to apologize for yourself even when you hadn't done anything wrong just so that there wouldn't be any conflict.

except there was always conflict. and the person shoving all of this nonsense about appropriate action down your throat was someone that never once took responsibility for their own hurtful ways. and to this day still has not.

once while we were in paris, we were walking down the street this creepy guy grabbed me. my mother told me it was my fault for wearing a tight shirt. it was always my fault. all i heard growing up was how what would people think when they looked at me if i wore tight clothes. or a shirt that showed any skin at all.

once, i was in bed with my ex-boyfriend. we had just started dating. i sat up and started crying. i just remember saying 'i'm so sorry. i'm a bad person.' he didn't know what to do. he told me later that it shocked him.

i dated this guy a couple of years back. i told him after the second or third date that he should forget about me. i would only bring him unhappiness. he said that he just thought we should go out again. that it was way to soon for me to say something like that. but i knew the truth.

i don't know where these random stories came from.

Sunday, December 26, 2010

the one-dog wolf pack

people let me tell you 'bout my best friend...


this morning the other dogs were having a wild rumpus in the snow. so i took inga outside to join in. i let her off the leash, assuming she would just pack up with the others and run around all crazy like.

but she just stood watching. for a while. as the other dogs ran back and forth and back and forth.

so i was all like "inga. go ahead. go on..."

and she took off. but not with the other dogs. down the hill. across the field. with me sliding after her.
and then we went and played in the
snow by ourselves. apparently, i am the only other member of the pack.

i should really thank her though. i mean,i look outside at the frozen expanse and all i think of are
apocalyptic cormac mccarthy visions a la 'the road.' no. i have never actually seen this movie.

or read the book. but i remember bleak imagery that possibly involved snow.

the point is...i go out and come back in.

i wonder if i might be a touch agoraphobic. is it possible to be just a little agoraphobic? or is it like being 'a little pregnant'?

while i contemplated this, inga searched for every snow drift. but, without luck. the mice were buried deep today.

when we finally trudged back up the very tall hill to where my parents live, ingas face was covered in snow and ice from sticking her snout into so many drifts. and my mother exclaimed 'oh! POOR inga!!' and looked at me like i was the worst person imaginable.

and she didn't believe me when i told her that inga wanted to stick her nose in the snow.
it was a good day.

Saturday, December 25, 2010

i wasn't dreaming of a white christmas...

but i am having one anyway.

we are snowed in. officially unable to get in and out of the driveway. at car. we tried this morning, prior to major accumulation and we basically slid down the driveway. it was not fun. my sisters and i pretty much refused to get in a vehicle after that. we even forced my father to leave his truck at the bottom of the hill.

i am, as we speak, preparing to set forth on foot across the frozen tundra. to grandmother's house i go.

my thought, as my mother told us that if it keeps snowing we will lose power, was...i should have bought a bigger bottle of bailey's. i don't think it's going to last through this.

Thursday, December 23, 2010

i'm a mean one

just because a person hates snow...

or can't stomach 'it's a wonderful life'...

or cringes at the sound of christmas music....

and doesn't go to church...

or doesn't get the thrill of the dickens light up christmas village...

or could care less about how appropriately spaced the ornaments on the christmas tree are....

does that REALLY make said person a grinch?

personally, i empathize with mr. grinch. first, every who down in whoville was fucking annoying. most especially cindy lou who. second, who-hash sounds super nasty. the whos should have thanked him for taking it. the roastbeast, however, looked boss. i would have eaten all myself.

finally, and most importantly, i too hate joining hands in the group setting. it's just weird. not to mention all those germs.

but as the grinch learned, you can't fight christmas. so you might as well just suck it up. at the very least you might get to carve the roastbeast.

i've gotta lotta problems with you people...and're gonna hear about 'em...

this is the way to do it. instead of everyone keeping it bottled up and bitching about this thing or that thing. or even worse...arguing about politics.

it is safe to say that the holiday stress is upon us. big time. the stress is palpable. i, for one, feel that the feats of strength would be a great way to get out the tension.

in lieu of airing grievances, i have baked two kinds of fudge (cherry chocolate and raspberry truffle) , divinity (which i don't even like), bourbon pralines, and dozens upon dozens of sugar cookies.

my fingers hurt from rolling the cookies. from the flour. and on that note, let me air a grievance with mr. alton brown....powdered sugar does not work as a good replacement for flour when rolling dough. it just doesn't.

i can't even remember what the point was. could be i've had too much bailey's. gotta keep those grievances in somehow.

Tuesday, December 21, 2010

i've got to stop. really.

today, while writing about critical junctures and the like, i watched 'the lovely bones' and 'my sister's keeper'.

oh yes...i cried for a better part of today.

i thought 'the lovely bones' was good. really good. i love movies set in the 1970's. i think it's the clothes.

and 'my sister's keeper' was also good. alec baldwin was on point. i can't stand cameron diaz, though. and whoever did the soundtrack should be taken out in the woods and shot. that movie could have used some tom waits in a BIG way. but it made some very interesting points about technology, particularly genetics.

and about love and letting go. which isn't really my strong suit, as you may or may not have noticed.

through the magic of facebook, i also found out that people really do those elaborate marriage proposals that involve hyper romantic/outrageous shennanigans.

that didn't make me cry though. it just pissed me off. mostly because i want that, but will never have it.

where the fuck is my christmas miracle?

but as i learned from my cinematic forays today, miracles just don't happen. we simply must accept the futility of it all.

maybe tomorrow i should watch something happier.

Sunday, December 19, 2010

the homage vice pays to virtue

in my last entry i shamelessly called out drew barrymore, arguing that holly wood and the film industry would be better off if she just accepted her station in stead of trying to shove worthless cinematic endeavors down our throats. i totally meant those things.

but i realize that i am, in fact, no better.

i can't even accept my own feelings. most especially towards the other. i am so uncomfortable with even feeling emotion that i can't even be honest to myself about what i feel. i find myself making small talk.

and i fucking hate small talk.

i make jokes instead of saying my feelings. because i'm afraid.

and any talk is better than no talk.

Thursday, December 16, 2010

the magic of satellite television

the magic of satellite television is that even with two hundred channels there is never anything on. and this is counting the premium movie channels that my parents now subscribe to.

i'm not complaining though. because of the expanded channel selection and the fact that is too cold to even go outside, i have been able to catch up on some movies that work has prevented me from seeing. such as...

training day day: new, i mean...'brooklyn's finest.

oh, antoine came so dangerously close to playing yourself with this film. but somehow, by the skin of your teeth and the help of some of the top actors in hollywood (richard gere, i'm not talking to you), you managed to not do so. i've got to say that it took me a minute to get into this film, which might have had more to do with my mother complaining about the excessive violence and richard gere's lack of acting ability than the fact that the film itself was bad.

i insightfully explained that fuqua's juxtoposition of the police department/crack dealer narratives was to highlight their inherent similarities and that violence was a necessary part of that. i also explained that richard gere always, always, always plays the confused middle aged white guy and that as long as you don't expect more from him than that, the there should be no problem with his acting abilities.

she didn't buy it.

she did, however, provide the perfect synapsis of the film for my father. he fell asleep in the middle of the movie and when he woke up we were watching 'hotel for dogs.' he was all like "this isn't the same movie, is it?' and my mom was like 'no. the other movie ended. everybody got shot except richard gere.' and that was pretty much what happened after two hours of character development.

strangely, don cheadle is in both 'brooklyn's finest' and 'hotel for dogs'. so i could understand the confusion.

i also watched 'whip it'. ok. that's a lie. i watched it for like 20 minutes. enough to reaffirm that ellen page is the worst actress of her generation AND drew barrymore has no business in or around the film industry. she can't act, is NOT a cover girl, and needs to quit tarnishing her family's hollywood legacy.

drew, the path to a healthy self begins with acceptance. accept that you are a marginal actress (at best). accept that you should NOT ever have cast yourself in charlie's angels, as you are no farrah. accept that you are the spoiled heiress of an otherwise imminently talented family. accept that you should not be going around preaching self love while knowing that you have, yourself, had cosmetic surgery (breast reduction counts). is very easy to preach self-love when everyone's telling you how great you look now that you've dropped 40lbs. the only people buying it are fat girls that want to be thin. it's so tragic.

i also watched steel magnolias. i have seen it a thousand times, but i still cried just as hard.

Wednesday, December 15, 2010

baby, it's cold outside

so cold i can see my breath. so cold there is snow on the ground and ice on the roads. so cold you have to warm yourself by the fire. so cold that my icy heart feels warm in comparison.

for some reason, though, it was not so cold that it prevented my sister and i from making my mother take us to get ice cream after dinner.

ah east i know why i went west in the first place. fuck wintertime. i mean, there's just no need for it.

and to clarify my christmas miracle comment...

i don't expect this to happen. i think what i was trying to say was that for my signal to go through as intended and for the desired response to occur, it would take a 1940's hollywood style gen-u-ine christmas miracle.

is that too much to ask for?


is it to much to hope for?

no. because, as i said hope is apparently inexhaustible for me. although, not in the sense that my christmas is ruined by the absence of miraculous intervention. don't get it twisted. you simply cannot let your happiness depend on things you have no control over.

GODDAMMIT why did my mother make us watch 'it's a wonderful life' every christmas when we were growing up? or 'miracle on 34th st'/'white christmas' for that matter...

the time change is fucking with me. good night.

deep in the heart of texas

waiting at the airport in houston. which is kind of like purgatory, but less exciting.

yes. i tried to order a drink at 5:30 this morning. yes. i got a strange look from the bartender who explained that they can't serve liquour prior to 6am. yes. i was sad about it. yes. i stared at the bartender until 6 on the dot. when she promptly poured my bailey's.

i am currently eating a lunch of potato chips and starbucks caramel brulee latte. i am on a major sugar high. i am going to crash eventually, but at 30,000 feet.

i also sent a very costly signal to the other. to which i do not expect a response. to which it would be unfair of me to expect a response.

but i am hoping for a christmas miracle. the terrible thing about hope is that it springs eternal.

ugh...two more hours and i'm home.

Saturday, December 11, 2010

leeway is the path to all-out disorder ain't fucking kidding.

big ups to some sports blog called 'ball don't lie' for pointing this out. yes. i was reading sports blogs. THAT's just how boring today was. literally nothing happened. even on the internets.

i've never been one for letting things slide. in that sense i am THE rational actor. not in a flexible, preference formation interpretation of rationality. but in the most economic sense possible. the equilibrium path for me has always been the path of least resistance. especially when it comes to relationships.

i have, in the past, practiced a very strict zero-tolerance policy. i've stopped dating, sleeping with, and even speaking to people for the slightest inconvenience. things like using questionable grammar. or ordering the wrong thing in a restaurant. or making a lame joke. or wearing an ugly shirt. or not understanding a word i used. or not picking up the check fast enough.

these things cause me annoyance. if left unchecked, annoyance leads to stress. this is inefficient. and if you let one thing go, then all of the sudden things are building up and then it becomes a big deal.

but apparently love, not casual encounter but L-O-V-E love, is not only ex post inefficient, but ex ante inefficient as well.

in short, love is at all times inefficient except as an ideal type.

what the fuck have i become?

now i'm sitting around listening to sad bastard music and wallowing in quasi-unrequited sentiment. quasi, because this other give exactly enough so that i don't tell them to fuck off. and exactly not enough to make me happy.

and like diana ross said...there ain't nothin' i can do about.

Tuesday, December 7, 2010

the kids are (mostly) all right

it's been a bit since i've had time to write. i've been finishing up school things. work things. grading things.

today, at the exam, some of the kids hugged me. which was unexpected. some of them told me thank you for being their TA. and thank you for helping them.

some people complain about students endlessly. but i think that they are all basically good kids. at least to me they were. i like all of them. i like talking to them. i like working on things with them. even if it was the same problem over and over and over again. i like turning international relations theories into high stakes poker metaphors at their request (it works better with some theories than others).

i'm going to miss them. but i get all new ones next quarter. still, some of them i will miss seeing.

i was the happiest when i was with them. even on days when i didn't want to go to class and teach. i always felt better once i got there.

even on days when i was the most saddest.

Sunday, November 28, 2010

the things we carry

i'm carrying a lot right now.

in the words of an overly sentimental pop song, the only kind of song i seem to listen to these days, you have to leave all your love and your longing behind. you can't carry it with you if you want to survive.

i heard this song a lot of times before i actually listened to the words.

but it's true. like jonah's whale love will swallow you whole. until you're stuck in the belly of the beast, with no way out.

and god can't help you.

you can't carry it with you if you want to survive. love is one more attachment. but it's not one i want to let go of. even though it is weighing me down. i'm sinking. actually, i already sunk.

the question is how to do it.

Friday, November 19, 2010

too busy to write

no time to write.

i am trapped in a hell of my making. in more ways than one.

more to follow.

Sunday, November 14, 2010

on pain

this time it's physical.

my new glasses haven't come yet. my eyes feel like they are going to explode.

it's horrible.

i've been sick all day. i laid in bed an cried. i ate and threw up. that's how bad it hurts.

why am i blogging about it?

because i'm alone. and it's scary and i don't have anyone to talk to. these are the times when i hate being alone. i just want someone to tell me it is going to be ok. that the pain will stop. someone to put their arm around me would be nice too.


is kind of what i'm doing. kind of.

i've also been doing a lot of work. reading about calculus. and considering game theoretic models.

i regret not having taken math seriously when i was younger. in my foolish youth, i though 'oh. i'm going to study political science. i don't need math.'

turns out the joke was on me. i wasn't laughing as i was reading 'ez calculus'. as it turns out, there is no such thing as ez calculus. that's a lie they tell you to sell you a book.

but calculus is not bothering me that much. i just need to know the logic and representation, at the moment.

i have, at long last, reconciled myself to formal modeling. i can appreciate the beauty of the models and the relationships they represent. and they are very beautiful. some more so than others.

my resistance came from a place of not understanding their purpose and function. that is partly my own close mindedness and partly the way it is taught to you. or at least the way it was taught to me.

these models have a particular purpose and function. you can't expect more from them than they are.

this is what i do to distract myself. calculus. game theoretical models.

alternately, i find myself dissecting gordon lightfoot lyrics. take for example the song 'steel rail blues'. you're feeling all down for this guy trying to get back to the one he loves. but if you really listen to the song, you see that he's not trying that hard at all. he gambles his ticket away for fuck's sake. is that how love is? why can't he just get his shit together and get on the goddamn train? if he loves her. or is it about something else all together? maybe he's just scared.

wow. i totally just outed myself on the 1970's folk rock. go ahead and judge. but think about your own life. think about how emotional stress leads you to do unattractive things.

now...shut the fuck up with your judgement.

Thursday, November 11, 2010

the wreck of the nina fitzgerald

i am sitting here. at 3:30 in the afternoon. drinking wine and listening to gordon lightfoot.

i think that it is safe to say that i have officially crossed the line from beautifully tragic to just plain sad.

1970's folk music?

fuck me.

remember when i said that love was bullshit? i think that this is as good an exposition as any for this thesis.

if you could read my mind, love...

i have spent so much time trying to figure this one out. why i would even care about this other. i've been trying to forget them. as hard as i possibly can. i've made this conscious effort not to acknowledge their existence. not in word or in deed.

but it isn't working out for me.

i never thought i could act this way and i have to say that i just don't get it.

i'm not comfortable with these feelings. no matter what i do they won't go away. i can't drink enough to drink them off my mind. not that i'm binge drinking, know what i mean. know what goes really well together? this dry red sparkling wine and kettle crisp chipotle barbeque chips. i'm just sayin'...

so there it is. now you know the truth. laying in bed. eating kettle chips. drinking sparkling red wine (not lambrusco). listening to gordon lightfoot.

just trying to understand the feelings the other lacks.

Tuesday, November 9, 2010

the eternal sunshine of the spotless laptop

i had computer drama today. again.

my wireless driver malfunctioned. or became corrupt. or whatever. every time i tried to turn the driver on, my computer crashed. straight up blue screen.

so i had to do a windows recovery.

no. i did not just come to this conclusion on my own. but i executed the plan myself. even though it was scary. scary because...well...the computer seemed so serious about the whole thing. and i didn't know what would happen.

and now?

my computer is good as new. right as rain. healed of its affliction.

and best of all...none of it was my fault. at least, i've been assured that there was nothing i could have done to cause this.

i wish i could force my brain into recovery. to revert it back to a better state. i've thought a lot about the past year. especially in terms guessed it...the other.

i've said a lot of things about wanting to do it over.

it's true in a way. but...i don't want to erase the other. or the feelings i have for them. even though i have a lot of pain associated with them. and frustration. frustration directed at them because i can't have their attention. frustration directed at myself that i want their attention so badly.

i've tried to block them out. it every way that i could think of. until the act of blocking became and act in and of itself. the more i try to forget, the more i am remembering through a sort of negation. and all the while, hoping fervently that they haven't forgotten me as i imagine that they have.

i just want things to be as they were. i miss them so.

Sunday, November 7, 2010

peace like a river?

is stepping on the scale after binge eating your feelings for like two weeks straight and finding out that you've dropped weight. there is a silver lining to stress, i suppose. i look fucking amazing.

on the downside....everything hurts. my sadness is becoming physical. and also i have been without glasses for like a week now. my new ones should be here in another week. my head hurts like constantly.

cried all morning. literally. i just lay in bed crying. after i went to coffee bean. i called tb crying. i said i wished i was a better person, maybe the other would want me. he said i was beautiful and smart and much better could i possibly want to be?

i went back to the psychic. that was encouraging. i like this one. she keeps it real and doesn't try to sell me anything.

i think i just wanted the conversation. seriously. i was so lonely this weekend. i've been beyond lonely lately. and i'm someone that likes being by myself. i truly enjoy my own company.

but it is getting to me.

it isn't really about the other. as in the one i talk about here, from time to time. or most of the time as of late. as much as i want to blame them, as sad as i am...i want them to be happy. it is the only thing i wish for them. an this isn't their fault.

which leads to the greatest paradox of all. i want to talk to them, but i can't because if talking to me make them unhappy, then i don't want to do it. it isn't like with my ex-boyfriend. i would have forced him to stay with me, if i could have. i begged him not to leave me. BEGGED. it wasn't pretty.

i can't this time.

that's how i know i really love them. i would get out of their life forever, if that's what they said they wanted.

love is bullshit.

Saturday, November 6, 2010

once again, without emotion...

i write. then i re-read. then i write again.

i talk a lot about the other. but it isn't about them. not entirely.

they didn't break my heart. it was already broken. maybe what i was hoping was that they could put it back together. that's why i miss them so much. because when i was with them, i felt...i don't know...different. i felt like nothing bad had ever happened to me. like i had a clean slate. nothing else mattered except that moment. i didn't have to be someone else. i wasn't too fucked up for someone to want to be with. i felt good about myself.

i've never felt that with anyone else.

but...this sadness. it was there even before they were, so to put it on them isn't fair. or accurate, really.

what i wrote earlier...that's what i DON'T want to be. and is what i am. needy. afraid. scared to death, actually.

i want to be better than what i am. i'm tired of being alone. i realized just now that i've on;y had two actual conversations today. one was with the kid at coffee bean. the other was with the girl working at macy's.

THIS is why i blog.

i'm the one that i want

so i'm going to preface this entry with an acknowledgement. just know that when you read the things i am about to write (about myself) and you are all 'wow. this chick is either 1.) crazy or 2.) super lame. maybe both. no wonder she's alone.' just know that as much as you think this about me for writing this, imagine i feel upon writing it.

i do feel super lame.

here's another little thing about me courtesy of the enneagram institute ....

As a Four, you tend to cope with problems by being emotionally intense and expressing your feelings. Your message to others is: "I feel really hurt and I need to express myself." Expand your coping skills by being competent, taking practical action, and adopting a positive outlook.

i do feel hurt. someone i let get very close to me hurt me a great deal. but i still miss them. i still feel so much for them. and i don't know what i make of that. i don't know what the appropriate way to deal with that is.

i get a lot of advice. move on. they're just a bad person. fuck them. forget about them. take the lesson and grow. you have to stay open.

i can't see the lesson. there's no reason for it. i didn't do anything wrong. i believed someone that i had no reason not to trust. and it affected me.

i don't even know what happened. i do know that i deserve to be treated a certain way. even if i am overreacting. even if i am being overemotional. even if i am just wrong.

the truth is, i shouldn't feel anything for them. but i still do. i still love them very, very much. and i still believe the things they told me.

but i shouldn't. because i believe that if you tell someone that they hurt you and they don't even acknowledge that, then they don't feel anything for you. you're not even worth getting angry at. you're not even worth expending the energy it would take to tell them to fuck off.

and THAT is devastating.

there is a part of me that wants to say 'why am i not good enough for you? tell me what you want me to be and i'll be it. just stop ignoring me. please. just say SOMETHING. i don't care what it is. just acknowledge me in some way.'

but...fuck that. i hate myself for even thinking those things. i think i say it here, so i don't say it to them. i have to get those feelings out. because i'm not that person (at least not all the time). there are so many wonderful things about me.

and i want to know why. why this one? i get approached all the time. people tell me i'm pretty. people tell me all kinds of things that are great. but why? why am i hung up on the one person who can't or won't give me those things?

and i feel like i can't trust my own judgment anymore. i fully trusted someone that probably lied to me. i say probably because i don't know. how can i trust someone else? i'm tired of feeling stupid. because i do feel really foolish at this point.

and yet...still i love. at the end of the day, after all of my doubts i do not feel that i misjudged them that severely. i'm just so afraid. and fear makes me act really, really poorly.

wow. i AM super lame. i'm going to go try to assuage my lameness with material possessions. as in clothes shopping. it hasn't worked so far, but if at first you don't succeed....

Wednesday, November 3, 2010

on a clear day you can see tomorrow

but i can't see anything at all. literally.

my glasses broke this weekend. and they are past the state of repair. but...i needed new ones anyway. i've had those for three years. i bought them with the money i made working at the thai joint during memphis in may. i remember that i was so happy because i made just enough to cover the exam and the glasses. and a large smoothie. it took me two full days of work. (roughly 20 hours).

i found out three things today...

first. having insurance is WONDERFUL. i can get my eye exam for only $20. AND i can get $30 off my glasses. totally affordable. i can get the recommended yearly exam now. which is great, because...

second. my eyes are fucked up. i have an astigmatism. it's especially bad in my left eye.


did you know that nowadays you don't have to get your eyes dilated?!? they just take a picture of your eye with a computer. and then you get to look at it with your doctor. it is awesome. i just wish you got to take it home with you...i want to put it on my fridge. or the wall.

and finally a point of clarification...

upon rereading my blogs, i feel that my overemphasis on my feelings for the other might be misleading. it sort of makes it seem like i am pining away. which isn't exactly accurate. at all.

i go out. with people. i do things. but i just can't shake these feelings.

i just wish that either things were different or that i could have less feelings. i don't know if it is normal or not to have feelings that last this long. i don't know why i can't just not feel anything. but i'm not ashamed that i feel them. at least i feel something. and..i am who i am.

and i miss them so much.

Tuesday, November 2, 2010

day of the dead

dia de los muertos.

my most favorite day of the year.

i finally know what i want for my funeral. i want a dia de los muertos celebration. with a huge altar and as many candles as possible.

today is the day of the altar. altars altars everywhere. and candles. and food.

but it's not sad. it's a celebration.

i want that after i'm gone. every year for someone to make an altar to me. a beautiful, colorful altar. with the most beautiful pictures of me. and candles with the blessed virgin. and skeleton statues of the blessed virgin.

and some cigarettes. some liquor. and food. i want some bread of the dead. and tamales. and incense.
i want the most beautiful altar ever.

it also made me think about being alive.

my last blog was hate, hate, hate.

i should clarify that. i don't hate that i believed in someone. i'm just really hurt. because...i miss them. i actually care about them very much.

and i want them to miss me. i just wish we could talk. they were super, super important to me. but i'm not to them. or maybe i am. i have no idea.i want to be important to them.

life is just so short. and i'm afraid that they are gone forever. and that makes me very sad.

but not so sad that it ruined my dia de los muertos.

Sunday, October 31, 2010

...and back to me.

fuck the middle. seriously.

if i have to read one more thing about this jon stewart rally i am going to scream.

wake. the. fuck. up.

are you happy with the status quo? if you are, then keep on extolling the virtues of the poor underrepresented middle. keep sweeping important issues like women's reproductive freedom, gay rights, immigrant rights, or the shockingly uneven distribution of wealth in this country under the rug. and by all means, keep on rallying. because catering to the middle WILL ONLY perpetuate the way things are. it will not now, nor will it ever, usher in the way things could be. the way things should be.
because i'm not happy with the way things are. i will not cling to the middle out of fear that things could go farther to the right. that's what THEY want. some things are non-negotiable. and if some people get alienated then too fucking bad.

yes. i am in hater mode today. and more than anything...i hate that everyday i wake up hoping that i will hear from someone that i miss terribly. i hate that i miss them. i hate that i let them into my life. i hate that i am so incredibly blind when it comes to people and their intentions. i hate that i can't trust and that when i do it is wrong. i hate that i gave them the benefit of the doubt. i hate that i believed them. i hate that i meant so little to them that they can't even tell me to just get out of their life. i hate that i'm not even worth a conversation to them. i hate that i was so easy for them to let go of. i hate that even thinking about them makes me start crying out of sadness. and mostly i hate the fact that i can't hate them. i hate that i can't even be angry at them.

i hate that despite everything that has happened to me in my life, i still cling to this beautiful george harrison type love ideal. the way i felt about them. the way i thought they felt about me.

see? i told you i would bring it back to me.

Saturday, October 30, 2010

the revolution will not be televised

or did you forget?

i am writing this on the day of the john stewart rally, which i mentioned briefly in my last entry. at the risk of pulling the race card, this is some white people bullshit. and i am white. actually. to be more precise it is some upper middle-class, (white) liberal bullshit.

i like jon stewart. his show is hilarious. i appreciate the sentiment. but to these people who are out gathering on the mall declaring your actions to be "the most American thing [you've] ever done" and that you're "so glad to be part of something" (see washington post), the fucking joke is on you. literally.

in one sense you're entirely correct in the assertion that this is THE most american thing ever. the pretense of social action. the total co-option of meaningful action. politicians couldn't be happier. as long as people are devoting their resources to watching the roots and listening to tv personalities, they aren't actively challenging the radical right.

those tea party assholes are completely frightening, completely insane, and completely wrong about, well, everything. but at least they are genuine in their attempt to engage in civil action (at least until the glen beck co-option). they are organized locally and they give their time and energy and money on a daily basis. i fear i cannot say the same for the people gathered today.

as i write this, i am reminded of something that noted comparativist robert bates said in an interview, which is that if he could teach people one thing it's that material wealth matters. when asked who says that material doesn't matter, he answered "rich white kids."

just think about how much money/time/other resources people spent on going to this 'rally.' what could we have done with those resources to affect genuine change in this country? in france, protests have turned disruptive and even violent over a raising the age of retirement two years. in contrast, many americans consider gathering on a lawn to watch the roots step and fetch it (that's right. i fucking went there...say i'm wrong...) to be this highly politicized and deeply significant act.

something is dead wrong with this picture.

Friday, October 29, 2010

revolution is no tea party

this is what we learned in my sociology seminar yesterday.

i already knew this. i have gone back and forth with the idea of violent revolution. it's very hard to advocate for this, at least in the current socio-academic climate. no one wants to be the one that endorses terrorist activity. it's...frowned upon.

but, when push comes to shove (perhaps quite literally), it might be the only viable option. in order to change the institution, you have to destroy the institution. the form this destruction takes is up for debate. i, along with most of the so-called revolutionaries (of which i would not designate myself) operating in western-liberal societies, do not have the stomach for this type of revolution. that's why you can get white people to participate en masse in bullshit like jon stewart's 'rally to restore sanity' or whatever the fuck it's called. that shit is RIDICULOUS. if you can't see why, then i'm not even going to bother.

this, however, is not why i'm writing this. i'm writing this because a funny thing happened on the way to the revolution...

i ordered two books from ebay this morning, written by urlike meinhof and the red army faction. i realize that this probably places me on some sort of watch list. and that writing about here raises these chances from "probably" to "absolutely." but while violence freaks me out, i've never been one to let the man keep me down. and the man stays the man by keeping people afraid of knowledge and the narratives of the other. believe that shit.

so i bid on these books. when i received my confirmation email, ebay kindly showed me other items in which i might have interest. know what THE item was? none other that 'eat, pray, love'.


get fucking real. if the raf were functioning today, i can almost assure you that they would not support the commodification/commercialization of enlightenment as represented in this abysmal contribution to the pathetic genre of chic lit. in fact, i'm quite certain that if they reacted to it, at all, it would be in the violent destruction of any venue that showed the movie version.

Wednesday, October 27, 2010

i forgot more than you'll ever know

i'm no good at goodbyes. i'm no good at letting things go. i'm also no good at statistics or spacial modeling.

but that's besides the point.

i have spoken previously about cutting someone out of my life. still holding to that. they have to atone. or perhaps 'atone' is too severe...but they MUST make amends. they must treat me like i matter to them.

but..despite all of my efforts to the contrary, i miss them a great deal. more than i can even say. i finally know what it is to truly regret something. i 've never really felt that. good or bad, choices are choices.

but if i could take back the last year of my life i would do it in a second. if it meant that we could be the way we were. if it meant we could talk.

but enough about that. i am trying to not even give them the space here. because, as of right now, they don't deserve it.

Sunday, October 24, 2010

so much drama in the l.b.c.

last night, my continued avoidance of work took me all the way out to long beach. it was well worth the trip. i went to a zombie pub crawl. it was a very revealing night.

the first revelation was that zombie is my new go to costume. the make-up is easy to do (although very greasy). and you can put any kind of variation on your attire that you want. for example, i was a disco zombie. 123654 was a zombie girl scout. zombies can be anything. and that's super convenient.

the second thing wasn't so much a revelation, as just weirdness.

we were at this one bar. and i was talking to this guy, whom i know through mutual friends. at which point this other guy interrupts to tell me...that i have a really great rack. the guy who told me this was gay (i think/hope), so that made it slightly less creepy. but then he started telling the guy i was talking to that he should totally feel them.

for a second i didn't know what was going to happen.

i don't really now the guy i was talking to very well. i've only talked to him a couple of times at random parties. but he seems like a really nice guy. totally legit. smart...has a good job...etc. and i don't like being objectified in front of guys like that.

the point is that things could have gotten really awkward, really quickly. like even more awkward than they were.

but the guy i was talking to was totally cool about it. he didn't just grab me. and he didn't even ask if he could. even though the guy that pointed out my great rack insisted that the guy i was talking to feel them. for like 10 minutes.

now that's a horse of a different color.

then he started asking us all of these questions. like why we weren't together. it could have been very weird. but...

it wasn't. the guy i was talking to was actually very cool about the whole thing. he managed to not objectify me, without making it seem like i was undesirable or something.

i totally respect people who can maneuver through tricky situations in a graceful fashion.

Thursday, October 21, 2010

forever the object

the full moon is fast approaching. which explains SO much. my rapid cycling emotions. my impatience with everyone and everything.

my crazy ex-boyfriend sweating me.

we broke up almost three and half years ago. after almost three years of dating. we were long distance and i called him one day and he told me that he didn't love me. he never had. he was tired of living a lie. he also said that we wanted different things. that i wanted to settle down and he didn't. the truth was he just didn't want to do that with me. he was totally able to do that with someone else.

he is also totally able to let me know that he still misses sleeping with me.

the truth is, i feel nothing for him. he is gone from my life. but...he keeps coming back. why? who the fuck even knows.

it was, in a way a compliment. but in another way, it really hurt. of all the things about our relationship...that is what he remembers. not how much i loved him. not the nice things i did for him. all he remembers is my body.

he would sleep with me 'no strings attached'. in a second. but i'm not good enough for him to date. or be with.

i should have told him to go fuck himself. but i didn't. because it is nice to feel wanted. it's just that's the only way anyone ever wants me. or at least the only way that ever gets expressed to me.

you know the other that i am always going on about? the thing is...i really, truly thought that it was different with them. and i am slowly beginning to think that it wasn't. and that is extremely discouraging to me. heartbreaking, actually.

i'll just have too try not to think about it.

what say you valles...

the revolution will not be televised...

there will be $12 cocktails and a $16 burger (which is made with sirloin, by the way) and celebrities such as candace bushnell will be there. if you even consider her to be a celebrity. i mean sure, she created 'sex and the city', but she also created 'lipstick jungle'. and that show was trifling. to say the least.

as much as i appreciate the kitschy/ironic communist references in the logo, somehow i'm thinking that latest incarnation of 'the paris commune' is NOT what the communards of 1871 had in mind.

the simple visual provided should clarify this.

Wednesday, October 20, 2010

talk to me like someone you love revisited

the hormonal mindfuck of pms has me dwelling on feelings this morning. i might have been doing this anyway, but in this case i have an excuse other than 'i'm just emotionally imbalanced'. so i'm gonna to use it. pms it is, then.

and it is pouring rain here. for like the third day in a row. so already, i woke up and wasn't in the best of states. if i wanted to see rain, i could have stayed on the goddamned east coast. for real.

and then i read my horoscope and apparently the past figures prominently into my state of mind.

this whole body image thing is really a sticking point for me. and i'm so sensitive about it that i couldn't even talk about it with my analyst. because i didn't want him to see me that way. he is someone i respect intellectually and i don't want to draw any attention to my body at all in that environment.

i realize that i bring that burden into every romantic relationship. i inwardly cringe when persons in that context compliment my body. because i'm so scared that is all they see. no matter who they are, no matter what they do, i am always secretly thinking that the only reason they are talking to me is because i have a certain body type. and as the charm of that wears off, so do their feelings. and i become not worth the trouble.

i have to get to such a high level of trust before i am able to let people talk to me about my body and not be uncomfortable.

this ties directly into the idea of talking to me like i'm someone you love. or rather, i wanted a very specific other to talk to me like i was someone that they loved. not as someone who just filled some fantasy rooted in the marilyn archetype. i wanted them to do more than just objectify me. i wanted them to take me seriously.

i had that trust with them. it took literally years to build. and now...i don't know for sure, maybe i never will, but i don't feel like like what i had with them was ever real. the only one taking it seriously was me.

i feel ridiculous. how could i have been so stupid? i should have known better. i'm usually so careful. but the thing is, i'm also usually never wrong about people.

when i say i wanted them to talk to me like i am someone they loved, i mean that i wanted them to say i mattered. that their life was better with me in it than with me not in it. that they miss me.

because i miss them so very much. and it's not too late. i'm not that kind of person. but i can't keep putting my feelings out there like that. they have to give too. and until they do, i can't have anything to do with them.

i took their picture down. i blocked any social networking phenomenon that would inadvertently pop up their picture.

it's not because i hate them. it's because it makes me too sad to see them. because after everything, the only thing i feel is love.

i don't know why. is it because i really love them, or because i really hate failing at something i really tried at?

the psychic asked me, "what is it about them, mija? are they really good looking? they have a lot of money?"

neither. i mean to me they are beautiful. but definitely not rich.

i just felt like they understood and believed in me. in a way that no one else really ever has. that they saw past the outer and saw, instead, my beautiful heart.

Tuesday, October 19, 2010

totally bringing it back

i reported a few months ago that i had developed a fondness for vintage lingerie.

i don't care if i do look pointy...i'm bringing this look back. it makes me look much smaller in the bust, and therefore more svelt all around. the silhouette is very high and this elongates the torso. making me look longer. makes for a much easier fit into vintage dresses.

i could give a fuck what people think. i like the look an THAT is what matters. however, it is always nice to have confirmation on one's forward thinking.

yesterday i was at the beverly center and i saw that the new guess ads feature models in vintage shaped bras. i couldn't find the exact picture, but i have included the above photo as an illustrative example.

and in case you ever wondered what the beverly center is wasn't the worst experience of my life, but...let's just say that if you ever want to feel too short, too fat, too unbeautiful, or too poor then this is your place. most of the girls walking around looked like models. i would say the mean size was a 1-2. and they were all like 6ft tall. the only reason i even went was to get some cosmetics that ended up not being available there.

then i mixed up what side of 3rd i was on. that's how i ended up in beverly hills. 90210.

on a semi-related note, i finally had the body image issue with my analyst. i could barely even talk about it. i'm so ashamed of my body. even though i think it is super beautiful. it IS super beautiful. fact.

but i still have a lot of shame there. i don't want to be an object anymore. not to another person. not ever again. but i can't control other people.

and so i'm at am impasse. a really stylish impasse, but an impasse just the same.

bad lighting

LA in the rain and gloom is the saddest thing i've ever seen. it's like when you stay at the bar past last call and and closing time comes and the lights come on. and you see everyone how they really look, with harsh overhead lighting illuminating every flaw. that's what it's like.

somehow...the blinding sun and the never ending blue skies that normally accompany LA manage to hide all of that.

i understand, LA. i look better in soft lighting too.

i got lost in beverly hills. now that area looks good no matter what the lighting.

Sunday, October 17, 2010

handsome, dubious eggs

i should begin by saying that i should not have started the day thinking of marilyn. it made me too sad.

emotion took over and i spent half the day in bed crying. if i think about the sadness of others, i get really down. i start to imagine what they felt.

example...i had to leave lecture the other day. we were watching 'the fog of war'. and then came the part about fire bombing tokyo during world war two. i had to leave the room. i couldn't bear to think about all the people being burned to death. like when i read about the armenian genocide and how the turks burned the armenians to death and drowned them in the river. i can't read about the holocaust.

that's how sensitive i am. it is a gift. but also, a terrible burden. that's what i was trying to say in the earlier blog. i feel my way through life. i get hurt a lot. but...i feel the good things so much more too. i feel everything.

so i lay in bed, trying to figure out what exactly i am so unhappy about. yes. i got hurt. but this isn't just about someone else. not at all. as far as that goes, i just have to try to show them the kindness that i wish people had shown me. because, at the end of the day, i only want them to be happy. and i can understand how that wouldn't be with me.

i do realize that when i told them that i couldn't be friends with them, unless they could treat me the way i deserve that i really, really wanted them to say 'please, don't go. i want you in my life. you matter to me.' but they didn't.

i miss them because...with them i felt as i did years ago. not so burdened. not afraid or anxious. just myself. but like a really good version of me.

but this isn't just about someone else. it would be ridiculous to pretend that it is. i don't know where the sadness comes from.

i forced myself to leave the house. but only so that i could go to the antique store. i bought a great chair. it was on sale. very mod.

this is how i do lately. buying my happiness $50 at a time. but my house is coming along. i finished cleaning out my room. i washed every mirror and every framed picture. now only the kitchen is left.

i am back in bed....hopefully to read more about democracy. but at this point i can feel a migraine coming on from somewhere in the distance. so i lit the candles in front of my lady fatima statue and hope for serenity to find me.

i am trying to take happiness from the simple things, so i am very pleased to report that for the first time ever i successfully poached the perfect egg. two eggs, actually. and by this i mean i REALLY poached them. without the silicon cups. the cups make it easier, but you don't get delicate consistency. something gets lost. i have tried and failed so many times at poaching. but not today.

i also had a really good night out last night, with people i really like. so there is that.

the only truth that sticks

everyone who took an english class in high school remembers having to suffer through one god awful arthur miller play or another.

if his boring, utterly bland depictions of failure in america weren't enough to leave you with a lifelong distaste for his work, the latest news story re: miller should be enough to leave you with a distaste for him as a human being.

probably the most interesting thing he ever did was marry marilyn monroe. however, apparently being married to the most desired woman in the universe was not enough for this sad bastard. in his diary circa 1956, he describes being, get this, "disappointed" in his wife and...that at times he felt embarrassed of her in front of his friends. now, if you're thinking to yourself, "wow. arthur miller was a fucking asshole", then you'd be thinking right.

according to the story, marilyn was absolutely devastated when she read this. who wouldn't be? to find that the person you trusted most in the world was secretly ashamed of you? and for what? because of an identity that was forced on you because of your body? because of the very thing that drew you to her in the first place? it's so unfair. and it had a price.

miller describes marilyn as having "the vitality of a force one does not understand but seems on the verge of lighting up a vast surrounding plain of darkness." and based upon this, i am pretty sure i understand what happened. it's happened to me too. people are attracted to the passion, to the energy. but then they find out that it isn't like that all the time. there are positive and negative aspects to that energy. that is the burden of intense feeling.

i'm not nearly as bad off as poor marilyn, but i can empathize with how she must have felt. nothing, and i mean nothing, feels worse than when someone you love is disappointed in you for being who you are. when you let them see who you are and it isn't good enough for them.

it was arthur miller that wrote that a suicide kills two people. well arthur, it in fact mostly kills one person. the dead one. so let me end by saying this to you...

you know what was a disappointment? death of a salesman. it was quite possibly the most boring play ever written. you know what was an embarrassment? the crucible. the salem which trial as a metaphor for the HUAC. wow. how fucking creative.

you're no tennesee williams, that's for fucking sure.

Saturday, October 16, 2010

saturday, it's saturday-ay (is the word, is the word, is the word)

things to do today...

i won't waste your time with my revelation(s). i try to keep my life as consistent as possible.

on saturdays i sleep in. at least until 8. i go to the coffee bean. i do work. today, this means i will read about elections. which bore me to tears. in fact, the whole idea of "democracy" is super boring. which makes me a poor match for the discipline of political science, i realize. i also realize that fate dealt me into a world where i get the luxury of taking democracy for granted. that's not my fault. i could feel guilty about that, but it is what it is.

this morning i will go to the farmers market, where i will buy oil for my skin and some hummus with black beans and harissa. possibly some fruit. it is pomegranate season. but really i just want the first two things.

then comes the really good part of my saturday. the part where i go to the chaat shop. there i will buy 1/2lb spicy cashews and....1/2lb of jalebi!!!! my favorite part of the week. even though jalebi are so sweet that they make me feel sick, they taste SO good. i just love them.

i'm also going to get a massage. they have weekend specials. last week there was no one there. i think this is because from the outside it looks like a rub and tug. but it totally isn't. i went there last week and it was amazing how much i carry around in my muscles. emotional pain. stress. and who knows what else. after last week i felt...lighter. it was amazing.

no, i am not rich. but i have to start thinking about my well being. and this is one way i can do that.

Friday, October 15, 2010

i'm good, i'm gone.

i'm hurting.

and i can't make it stop.

in an attempt to alleviate my emotional discomfort, i have been indulging myself. within the cozy confines of the capitalist word economy.

in other words, i've been buying whatever thing i feel will translate into even 10 seconds of happiness. clothes, mostly. i realized today when i was buying an a la mid-1990's trapeze dress that i have truly reached a good place with my body. if i can buy non-tailored items, without feeling like a walrus, then i am good. to be honest, i love my body right now. the stress of teaching game theory to 18 year old's has taken those pesky five pounds RIGHT OFF. it's amazing. every rib is visible and accounted for.

judge all you want. i made the choice a long time ago between being healthy and being thin.

i joking (sort of). i'm not cocaine/refugee thin, or anything like that. i look quite healthy. i am perfectly hour glass shaped. so much so that today i had a disappointing incident at ann taylor. i wear a size four at this shop, as i do with most designer labels. they had this beautiful dress on sale that i have been wanting for like a month. it fit perfectly. except in the hip/thigh area. my body is obscene.

and i continue to try to make my house a place where i want to be. a place that attracts love, as opposed to repelling it.

my (faux)gold plated, feng shui mandarin ducks came. i put them next to the lady fatima.

i have made my bed every day, as advised by the feng shui experts.

i went to the plant nursery today. i bought two succulents. and a violet.

but...nothing fills. i have never met an emotional obstacle that i couldn't overcome with purchasing power.

until now.

don't get me wrong, i am not sitting around crying all the time. but i miss someone very, very much. and all the things in the world cannot replace them. even though, yes, i cut them out. but at the same time, i left the door open to them. but they have to want to come back.

i want to beg...PLEASE, PLEASE...come back.

but i refuse to do that. it isn't fair to them or to me.

Wednesday, October 13, 2010

the game of love

the game of love is best captured by an extensive form game of uncertainty. behold the game tree...

isn't it magical? ok, the formatting got a little dicked up in the translation. if you're still confused, don't be i'll talk you through it. confronting the other in the romantic context, fate has selected me into either a world in which the other is honest (p) or a world in which the other is dishonest (p-1). the problem is i don't know which world i'm in.

there are two players. the first player is myself and the second player is the other. i have two strategies: to believe the other or to not believe the other. the other has two strategies: to follow through or to be a total fucking asshole (ie: not follow through).

based on the payoffs, the subgame perfect equilibrium is {believe, don't believe; follow through, be a total fucking asshole}. the best path is in the honest world, the world in which i believe and the other follows through.

sadly, there is no way of knowing. i'm not going to solve for p. i've been doing that all day. essentially, you would calculate the expected utility for believing and not believing, based on the probability of being thrown into either world. if EU(believing)>EU(not believing), then you trust. is like a nuclear weapon. if you guess wrong and the person you trusted acts like a total fucking asshole, you're obliterated.

game theory is fucking useless.

Sunday, October 10, 2010

you may not bring me flowers...

but that's ok.

because nina dalloway said she would buy the flowers herself.

i have spent the day cleaning out the old things to make room for the new. i went to a psychic yesterday. she told me i needed new energy. to bring new things. she told me a lot of useful things.

she told me that i am the person that people fall in love with. because of my beautiful heart. i can read cards too, so i could see that she was telling the truth. but right now, i need to take back my energy and be strong again. then i can deal with this other thing. and on that note...she told me, and i quote..."oh...don't worry. take your time and do what you need to do. that fool's not going NOWHERE." in other words, they'll be back.

but that's not what i need to worry about right now. what i need to worry about is myself. she also told me i was very picky. which is also true. but, there are other people coming into my life.

i have to make room for love. i looked up how to bring love into your life. you have to make your home somewhere people would want to be. you have to make it somewhere that you want to be.

i'm not going to wait for someone to bring me flowers. i went out and bought them for myself.

i bought a table today. a wooden table from the 60's. painted blue. cleaned out my room. got rid of everything i didn't need. clutter blocks love. i moved my bed so that neither side was against the wall. that's stifling.

i put my lady fatima statue on it. surrounded by flowers and candles. by my bed.

i also bought some shelves from the 70's. brass with yellow ceramic-ish bottoms. and put those in the living room. with more vases of flowers and and orchid plant.

so...we'll see. if nothing else, i feel better.

Saturday, October 9, 2010

talk to me like i'm someone you love

that's what i wanted. this whole time.

i was dicking around on the internets (as opposed to reading about vote counting or making votes count or whatever thing i'm supposed to be learning), and i ran across this new book the name of which i took for my blog title today. it's about, you guessed it, relationships.

i had to cut someone out of my life this week. i've never done that before. i've never said 'i can't be your friend'. not to anyone. i have so many issues of my own that i've wished people would be understanding of that i just can never do that to another human being. not someone that i loved.

now...before i paint an overly altruist picture of myself i should say that i don't really like people. i have extensive trust issues. so it's not like i approach people with this totally open heart. or i'm even especially nice.

but i am fucking honest. i keep it 100. all day, everyday. so, perhaps somewhat foolishly, i expect that from other people. it's the only expectation i really have. everything else is, to some extent, negotiable.

i didn't want to cut this person out. i hate making emotion contingent on reciprocity. but...when it becomes a matter of respect (or disrespect, as the case may be), then you have to do what has to be done. i don't want it to be this way. i said that too. i am trying to keep in mind that this is on them.

i will say much as it hurts that even though it feels like i meant nothing to them, given that i have heard nothing from them even though i expressed how much they are hurting me, it hurts less than continually putting your feelings out there and getting half-assed, bullshit responses.

i wanted them to talk to me like i was someone they loved. because they said they loved me. i looked at this book thinking maybe it could help me understand, but it was contingent on there being communication going both ways. so the book couldn't help.

but the title pretty much sums it up.

Wednesday, October 6, 2010

new dawn

yes. i just wanted to use a twilight reference. yes. i know that makes me...something that's the opposite of cool. and not in an ironic way.

but overrated.

today is a new day. for the past six months i have tried my hardest with someone that meant a great deal to me. i was understanding. i was patient. i was considerate of their feelings and their situation.

but that day is over.

at some point, no matter what your circumstances, you have to have reciprocity. and now is that time. reciprocate or there is no you and me.

tb told me along time ago that sometimes you have to take a black marker and cross people out of your book of life. that's what i did. sort of. i gave them a choice. but i can't continue to give. and they have to treat me a certain way.

i realized that friendship is not one sided. neither is love. at some point, it is up to the other person to give a little. regardless of their situation. because if you love someone, that is what you do. even if it is hard.

123654 has been the best friend anyone could have. yesterday, her boyfriend brought her a plum. and i was like 'oh! that looks good'. and she said 'i want you to have it. you know why? because i love you. and when you love someone, if you have something that can make them happy, you give it to them.'

she has also told me everyday that she loves me. all day. every time i see her. and she said she would keep telling me that until i felt better.

that is love. not just telling someone, but meaning it. giving them your fruit.

i will add that this new assertion of what i deserve isn't an instant fix. my heart is totally broken. and it hurts. but i hear that gets better with time.

Tuesday, October 5, 2010

piece of my heart

i'm like a broken fucking record these days.

i have left so many pieces of my heart all over the place. but this past year has been the absolute worst. i've lost a huge chunk. and once it's gone, you can't get it back.

i needed that piece. it made me whole.

i believe that my heart is the best part of me. i have so much love. i also have a great ass and an extremely refined sense of aesthetic, but that is beyond the point.

my heart is beautiful. i can feel everything. i can feel things others can't. i don't show that part of myself to anyone.

well, hardly anyone. but i did. i thought they were different. i trusted them. more than anyone in the whole world.

and... i got really, really hurt. and that's all i can really say about it. i just have to wait for it to stop hurting.

people tell me that in time this will happen, but i don't know.

i know that i want this person to be happy. so i am just going to let them go. even thought the selfish part of me wants to yell at them. and point out all the ways i loved them and demand to know why they can't see that.

but when you love someone, when you really don't use guilt or bad feelings as a last ditch effort to get them to come back. it doesn't work.

but sometimes, it does make you feel better.

but i don't want that. that's how i know at least my feelings were real.

it's little consolation. let me tell you.

Saturday, October 2, 2010

eventual history

if you had told me a year ago the things i would have had to process in the interpersonal relationship area...

i would have laughed in your face.

things i once thought impossible because they were asking too much. things i once thought were on the list of impossible things that would never happen. all these things have happened.

i don't know how much more i can...process.

my emotional life is like a blues song...except about a person, rather than heroin. addiction would be preferable. i'll take dopesick over lovesick any day. dopesick i can fucking handle. lovesick is just...hurting.

it's this constant waiting. i lack the virtue of patience. i lack the comfort of knowing.

even my horoscope is mocking me....

Open your heart and your arms to someone you've missed. Forget whatever happened to split you apart in the first place. That was then. This is now.

my heart never closed. but how much can i forget? what can i forgive? there was nothing major, it's just a lot of small things that add up to a lot of personal pain.

at what point does it stop being understanding and start being just making excuses?

i trust this person. but i can't shake the feeling that i will come to regret that. i'm scared. i have no idea what will happen.

i also can't shake the feeling of love i have towards them. and that may be the problem, after all.

totally phoning it in

political science, i gave you all and now i'm nothing.

i feel like an academic sociopath. now, in the rest of my life, i have WAY too many feelings to be an actual sociopath. but when it comes to academia, i feel nothing. i have no interests. i have no motivation.

could be i'm just not a political scientist. could be the struggle has taken it out of me. i've worked myself to death the past three years. to better myself. to take proactive steps to assure my future. and then realize that the things that should have put you ahead, really didn't mean anything. i had to start over. i could have spent the two years prior to coming here at the bar drinking. and i would have gotten the same deal. i feel so defeated.

could be the realization that the pursuit of knowledge is like the biggest sham makes the continuation of this path meaningless.

it wasn't always like this. but at this point it is what it is.

but like dexter, i work very hard at academic normality. i am VERY good at faking it. i am the most prepared, the most engaged. the most participating person. but when it comes to my own work....i feel nothing.

i don't know who i am anymore. i just wish i could find something for me.

Sunday, September 26, 2010

ooo, ooo, oooo

we've all been rejected. here's the appropriate response. it's also a superfly video, demonstrating once again the ATL's awesomeness.sometimes there's just no better way to say it.

sometimes there's no better way to say it.

Saturday, September 25, 2010

ritual capitalism

take comfort in rituals.

when i was in starbucks yesterday, i saw these words on what has to be the most disconcerting sign ever. it was advertising their latest sugar loaded fall flavored lattes.

touche starbucks. way to play on my inner-most desires for mental stability through ritual. the fact that i compensate for an increasingly strong sense of alienation with the same iced latte. day after day. morning after morning. like being able to depend on the consistent reproduction of a beverage can assuage the discomfort of severe inertia in my inter-personal relationships.

i couldn't count on you, but my iced latte will always be there. every morning. without fail. it will never leave me. it is always available, always just $4 away.

i'm also thinking that there must be a lot of OCD people at starbucks for this to be an effective marketing campaign.
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