To know you are missed is one of the most heartwarming things in the world. To miss someone is one of the most heart wrenching things you can imagine. When both happen at the same time- it feels like love.
I know love, today.
It has been over a week- and to not set my head on his belly, or have a tooth-brushing buddy, or a snuggle under the covers morning. Those moments that you dont know you are having a moment. (Not like when you are in the sunshine and having a good hair day and share a kiss- where you KNOW you are living a moment that you will want to look back on and revel in. Those are great, kodak, movie- but not what I'm talking about.)
Instead it's all those things that you dont think about. Holding their coffee while they drive, both squeezing from the bottom of the toothpaste because one of you likes it that way, sharing the best pillow on the bed even though it's too small, you want to share the goodness of the Star Wars pillow case.
It's the small stuff. It's knowing what they want to drink when they are in the restroom- it's coming out of the restroom and seeing your favorite drink already on the table.
I dont know if this will ever go away. I know people break up, friendships fade into business and marraiges end- but those small things, where someone KNOWS you, and misses how you leave your towel over the closet door, or how you leave your socks inside the sheets- it cant leave. It's going to be mine, and his forever, whether or not we grow old in the same place, at the same time- I will always love how he knows I want barbeque sauce with my french fries and that when I wake up from a nightmare I want my hand to be held until I fall back to sleep.
I dont care how old, or seperated or how close we become- those are the things that I cannot lose- cannot forget. The moments that dont really count- but that add up to be everything.
They not only make me feel loved- they let me know it.
Anyone can have a perfect date, a perfect day or a perfect moment- in the sun, or rain, inside a cab or on the EL- but who has a rhythm? As unsteady as the whole song might be- the beat stays true. At the begining it was faint, and often skipped- but right now it's like a steady happy thrum.
And without you here- without you next to me- and without me there, next to you- I still hear it. It's low, and hard to hear sometimes, but it doesnt stop- and this week, today, I hear it like I'm laying on your chest listening to your heartbeat.
I miss you. And you miss me. Sometimes you really get me. And that is more than I can ask of anybody.
1/15/07
1/7/07
spoiled
Tonight I went to a bar, where there were bands playing and guys with guitars playing and it was small, and fun and loud- I felt fun.
The first guy who was on, him and his electric guitar alone on the stage- with maybe twenty five people in the audience, and probably twenty of them were there specifically just for him. Cheering him on by name, singing along to his indie-rock and yelling things like, "You're doing great, Nick!" "You sound like a rock star!" "Dont be nervous, you're amazing!"...
It was like it was just him and them in the room. They were his cheerleaders, and the rest of us were eavesdropping on the concert.
I found myself being jealous, he was so loved and supported and I wanted to know his name and have twenty friends at my back telling me, "You're doing great!". I wanted to be a part of it. Of something.
I am spoiled from this vacation. I want to not be lonely out here anymore. I'm sick of this life. If it turns out that Jimmy isnt moving here, and I'm not moving there... I think I'm going to move. Maybe to Vancouver. Maybe to Boston. Maybe to Australia. Maybe to Michigan.
Who knows. I just want out. I want change. I want things to be more like I WANT them instead of how I can tolerate them.
I miss the old me.
The first guy who was on, him and his electric guitar alone on the stage- with maybe twenty five people in the audience, and probably twenty of them were there specifically just for him. Cheering him on by name, singing along to his indie-rock and yelling things like, "You're doing great, Nick!" "You sound like a rock star!" "Dont be nervous, you're amazing!"...
It was like it was just him and them in the room. They were his cheerleaders, and the rest of us were eavesdropping on the concert.
I found myself being jealous, he was so loved and supported and I wanted to know his name and have twenty friends at my back telling me, "You're doing great!". I wanted to be a part of it. Of something.
I am spoiled from this vacation. I want to not be lonely out here anymore. I'm sick of this life. If it turns out that Jimmy isnt moving here, and I'm not moving there... I think I'm going to move. Maybe to Vancouver. Maybe to Boston. Maybe to Australia. Maybe to Michigan.
Who knows. I just want out. I want change. I want things to be more like I WANT them instead of how I can tolerate them.
I miss the old me.
12/12/06
aged
Today is the last day of my 22nd year. Tomorrow morining I will wake up and be 23.
Not such a big birthday... but it's still another year that I've been here.
I dont think that I could have imagined that I would be where I'm at at this time last year.
This time last year I was in Chicago, freezing and going to class. Waiting for the Holidays to go home, see Sara, see Tom.
I was pissed at Jimmy, who was pissed at me about Wicked tickets and giving gifts when we were both poor and unhappy.
This year, I'm in LA. Shiny, sunny LA. Jimmy was here this past weekend, and he got me Wicked tickets to replace last years unused one's... same seats, for New Years Eve.
I cried like a little baby, I was so surprised and so amazed and so in love with the man.
(Thats right, I called him a man.)
Anyway, tomorrow is a new day, a new year in my life and nothing will really change.
It's just going to be me, my Wicked tickets, and some friends from work going to see the Pirate show after work.
I think that is a pretty decent way to usher in the 23rd year of my life.
Pirates, friends, work and knowing that people far away love me... I think that is enough of an accomplishment for any 23 year old.
I'm fine with that.
PS. I miss DX.
Not such a big birthday... but it's still another year that I've been here.
I dont think that I could have imagined that I would be where I'm at at this time last year.
This time last year I was in Chicago, freezing and going to class. Waiting for the Holidays to go home, see Sara, see Tom.
I was pissed at Jimmy, who was pissed at me about Wicked tickets and giving gifts when we were both poor and unhappy.
This year, I'm in LA. Shiny, sunny LA. Jimmy was here this past weekend, and he got me Wicked tickets to replace last years unused one's... same seats, for New Years Eve.
I cried like a little baby, I was so surprised and so amazed and so in love with the man.
(Thats right, I called him a man.)
Anyway, tomorrow is a new day, a new year in my life and nothing will really change.
It's just going to be me, my Wicked tickets, and some friends from work going to see the Pirate show after work.
I think that is a pretty decent way to usher in the 23rd year of my life.
Pirates, friends, work and knowing that people far away love me... I think that is enough of an accomplishment for any 23 year old.
I'm fine with that.
PS. I miss DX.
11/30/06
flattered
This morning at Starbucks I was standing in line with my new scarf over my black corduroy jacket and my silver jeans and my blue sweater, waiting to order my Venti Pumpkin Spice Latte (WITH whip, thank you). And a man, who I have never seen before, or even noticed in the packed little place- came up to me and handed me a note.
At first I thought it was a flyer or something so I took it and smiled and barely glanced down to notice it was the back of a receipt, written in a scrawling hand-
"You are the most perfect shape in the whole world. Everything about you fits, the things you are wearing compliment you in a way that only makes you look more beautiful."
I couldn't help but feel overwhelmed and blushing, then he said, "I don't mean it to be improper at all. I just thought you should know."
And then he left with his latte or coffee or muffin and that was that.
And I was shocked, stunned even, that a perfect stranger would take those two minutes out of his life to tell find a spare receipt from his pocket and scrounge for a pen to write me a note just to tell me that, I am, in fact- perfect just the way I am.
At first I thought it was a flyer or something so I took it and smiled and barely glanced down to notice it was the back of a receipt, written in a scrawling hand-
"You are the most perfect shape in the whole world. Everything about you fits, the things you are wearing compliment you in a way that only makes you look more beautiful."
I couldn't help but feel overwhelmed and blushing, then he said, "I don't mean it to be improper at all. I just thought you should know."
And then he left with his latte or coffee or muffin and that was that.
And I was shocked, stunned even, that a perfect stranger would take those two minutes out of his life to tell find a spare receipt from his pocket and scrounge for a pen to write me a note just to tell me that, I am, in fact- perfect just the way I am.
11/16/06
deserted
I am seriously in need of this Thanksgiving vacation.
I saw Jimmy a few weeks ago, and mom a week before that and Sara and Tom a month before that... and now- I am ready to take a break for the unrelenting LA weather and people and lifestyle and go home.
Where I can lay on the couch and pet the dogs and bake and see family and be alright with cranky grandma Kate.
Right now I feel like I am itching to get out of my skin- that this body isnt mine anymore and I dont want it. I want mine back. I want my hair to be shiny and my eyes to be bright. I dont want the dark circles and the sags and the lack-luster skin. I would like to be regular 22 year old me.
Instead when I am back to Kate- I'll be 23. A whole year older, none-the-wiser and a lot more disgruntled.
I am sick of this nonsense.
I miss having a life. I miss my family. I miss weather. I miss sleep. I miss Jimmy. I miss feeling young.
You know that scene in "Prelude to a Kiss" where the old man is in Meg Ryan's body and is standing at the ocean and yells, "It is wonderful to be young!".
Well, I get it right now, too.
All the aches and pains, all the sleepless nights, the dizziness, the exhaustion, the difficulties with simple tasks; opening jars, using a can opener, coordinating medicine with meals and every little mundane detail that I can no longer take for granted.
Instead- I am forced to be sore, tired, grey-skinned and slow.
I am not used to it. How much my hands hurt after using a screw driver. How hard it is to actually stay awake at night. How hard it is to stay asleep in the morning. How often I actually have to remember to take fiber and vitamin C and D and B and E and Iron and Potassium... and the list goes on.
I feel old. I look old. My skin has no elasticity... I will be an ugly old lady. Sag'in bag'in Kate. Only I wont have an airplane in my pants.
I saw Jimmy a few weeks ago, and mom a week before that and Sara and Tom a month before that... and now- I am ready to take a break for the unrelenting LA weather and people and lifestyle and go home.
Where I can lay on the couch and pet the dogs and bake and see family and be alright with cranky grandma Kate.
Right now I feel like I am itching to get out of my skin- that this body isnt mine anymore and I dont want it. I want mine back. I want my hair to be shiny and my eyes to be bright. I dont want the dark circles and the sags and the lack-luster skin. I would like to be regular 22 year old me.
Instead when I am back to Kate- I'll be 23. A whole year older, none-the-wiser and a lot more disgruntled.
I am sick of this nonsense.
I miss having a life. I miss my family. I miss weather. I miss sleep. I miss Jimmy. I miss feeling young.
You know that scene in "Prelude to a Kiss" where the old man is in Meg Ryan's body and is standing at the ocean and yells, "It is wonderful to be young!".
Well, I get it right now, too.
All the aches and pains, all the sleepless nights, the dizziness, the exhaustion, the difficulties with simple tasks; opening jars, using a can opener, coordinating medicine with meals and every little mundane detail that I can no longer take for granted.
Instead- I am forced to be sore, tired, grey-skinned and slow.
I am not used to it. How much my hands hurt after using a screw driver. How hard it is to actually stay awake at night. How hard it is to stay asleep in the morning. How often I actually have to remember to take fiber and vitamin C and D and B and E and Iron and Potassium... and the list goes on.
I feel old. I look old. My skin has no elasticity... I will be an ugly old lady. Sag'in bag'in Kate. Only I wont have an airplane in my pants.
10/18/06
distracted
Today I am bored.
Bored of my life. Bored of my work. Bored of my droning dying depressing deadthly drier daily routine.
I am as low as it gets one minute and the next I feel like maybe you know, I'll wake up any second from this nightmare that is my life.
I am falling apart at the seems and everything I've ever wanted is falling into my lap.
Money. Friends. Work. Love.
It's just that it means nothing to me. All of it is garbage.
And right this minute that makes me laugh at the irony.
All I wanted. All I worked for. I have.
Ha. I dont want it.
As soon as I sit down for a minute I'm sure this mirth and comedy will dissolve and I will be a muddle puddle of huddled Kate.
My title will finally make sense. I will be Kate-less.
I am missing and my body is just trying to walk itself through everyday until I get back from my I-couldnt-give-less-of-a-shit-vacation to depress-o land. A-la drugs and chemo and crap that I hate and the bruises pilingup isnt helping. Frankly, the one on my face may just be the last straw.
I am a mess.
But from the outside. From their view... I am just dandy. Clean hair and a smile distract almost everybody from myself.
That I'm great at. Distraction.
Bored of my life. Bored of my work. Bored of my droning dying depressing deadthly drier daily routine.
I am as low as it gets one minute and the next I feel like maybe you know, I'll wake up any second from this nightmare that is my life.
I am falling apart at the seems and everything I've ever wanted is falling into my lap.
Money. Friends. Work. Love.
It's just that it means nothing to me. All of it is garbage.
And right this minute that makes me laugh at the irony.
All I wanted. All I worked for. I have.
Ha. I dont want it.
As soon as I sit down for a minute I'm sure this mirth and comedy will dissolve and I will be a muddle puddle of huddled Kate.
My title will finally make sense. I will be Kate-less.
I am missing and my body is just trying to walk itself through everyday until I get back from my I-couldnt-give-less-of-a-shit-vacation to depress-o land. A-la drugs and chemo and crap that I hate and the bruises pilingup isnt helping. Frankly, the one on my face may just be the last straw.
I am a mess.
But from the outside. From their view... I am just dandy. Clean hair and a smile distract almost everybody from myself.
That I'm great at. Distraction.
10/3/06
found
Today at work I found out something interesting.
In the year 2013, on Friday 12/13/13 I will turn 30.
If only there were a thirteenth month, I would turn thirty on the perfect day.
I think that's pretty bad ass. I'll be 31 on 12/13/14. That almost as cool.
And on 12/13/21 I'll be, like really old (38). But I guarantee a palindrome birthday beats all the rest.
In the year 2013, on Friday 12/13/13 I will turn 30.
If only there were a thirteenth month, I would turn thirty on the perfect day.
I think that's pretty bad ass. I'll be 31 on 12/13/14. That almost as cool.
And on 12/13/21 I'll be, like really old (38). But I guarantee a palindrome birthday beats all the rest.
9/26/06
hoped
I feel like if you really cared you would find a way.
I wrote a million sentances and erased them all.
That is all my mind keeps saying. You should find a way.
If you really cared you would be here. It's how I felt at the hospital. It's how I felt at home after surgery. It's how I felt at graduation. It's how I felt way back when.
And now, I feel it.
But I think it's different, because I know that isnt you. You arent that guy.
I love you and I should stop trying to make you that person that is there. That is HERE. Where I am.
I know, logically, that you care. Even if my heart is saying something else at the moment. I cant control what I feel right now and I need to remember that. I need to be reminded why I am here. It's just so blank.
I just feel so desolate. So so empty.
I dont know how to tell you to make it better, or what to say, and I'm not going to ask you to do anyhing. I know, logically that you cant.
I just need to reconcile my brain with my emotions again. Maybe now that I have my medicine again I can do that. I dont know.
I wrote a million sentances and erased them all.
That is all my mind keeps saying. You should find a way.
If you really cared you would be here. It's how I felt at the hospital. It's how I felt at home after surgery. It's how I felt at graduation. It's how I felt way back when.
And now, I feel it.
But I think it's different, because I know that isnt you. You arent that guy.
I love you and I should stop trying to make you that person that is there. That is HERE. Where I am.
I know, logically, that you care. Even if my heart is saying something else at the moment. I cant control what I feel right now and I need to remember that. I need to be reminded why I am here. It's just so blank.
I just feel so desolate. So so empty.
I dont know how to tell you to make it better, or what to say, and I'm not going to ask you to do anyhing. I know, logically that you cant.
I just need to reconcile my brain with my emotions again. Maybe now that I have my medicine again I can do that. I dont know.
8/31/06
planned
So this weekend is going to be amazing. I have decided.
The tentative schedule:
Thursday: Work:Poker then Mom and Dad at the airport to their hotel.
Friday: Work:Poker (Mom and Dad come to set to see), then Jimmy at the airport, Dinner with him and Mom and Dad
Saturday: Day out with Mom, Dad and Jimmy, mall/beach- then to the airport to pick up Tom late-night.
Sunday: Brunch with Mom, Dad, Tom, and Jimmy. THEN to the airport to pick up Sara. Dinner out, movie,Malibu?
Monday: Mom and Dad and Jimmy to the airport. Beach/Park/Movie/Naptime with Sara and Tom
Tuesday: Work: Poker, dinner with Sara and Tom.
Wednesday: Work: Poker, dinner with Sara and Tom.
Thursday: Work: RH3, Dinner/Hang out. Venice?
Friday: Sleep in! Cheese and beer party with Sara and Tom in rememberance to Amsterdam.
Saturday: Pool/Beach/Mall/Movie/Bookstore
Sunday: Same ol', Same ol'
Monday: Tom and Sara to airport
Tuesday: Look for work.
Wednesday: Look for work.
So that is the plan as of now.
Huzzah.
I cant wait! I seriously feel like I did at ten waking up in the middle of the night before Christmas.
The tentative schedule:
Thursday: Work:Poker then Mom and Dad at the airport to their hotel.
Friday: Work:Poker (Mom and Dad come to set to see), then Jimmy at the airport, Dinner with him and Mom and Dad
Saturday: Day out with Mom, Dad and Jimmy, mall/beach- then to the airport to pick up Tom late-night.
Sunday: Brunch with Mom, Dad, Tom, and Jimmy. THEN to the airport to pick up Sara. Dinner out, movie,Malibu?
Monday: Mom and Dad and Jimmy to the airport. Beach/Park/Movie/Naptime with Sara and Tom
Tuesday: Work: Poker, dinner with Sara and Tom.
Wednesday: Work: Poker, dinner with Sara and Tom.
Thursday: Work: RH3, Dinner/Hang out. Venice?
Friday: Sleep in! Cheese and beer party with Sara and Tom in rememberance to Amsterdam.
Saturday: Pool/Beach/Mall/Movie/Bookstore
Sunday: Same ol', Same ol'
Monday: Tom and Sara to airport
Tuesday: Look for work.
Wednesday: Look for work.
So that is the plan as of now.
Huzzah.
I cant wait! I seriously feel like I did at ten waking up in the middle of the night before Christmas.
8/23/06
called
Hey, you. Sara Grady. Call me. E-mail me. Are you coming to visit me? Are you coming home, ever? Are you alive and well? I miss you.
That is all.
End transmission.
That is all.
End transmission.
7/21/06
flew
I am in Dallas at Jimmy's work and I want to pour this scalding coffee on myself so I have something to talk about with these people.
You know how awkward it is to meet strangers, who apparently know who I am, and I've heard their names- but have a hard time remembering which name is who... it's wierd. I hate awkward.
Last night was kind of awkward. I felw from LAX to Denver and thenDenver to Dallas. It blew. I really hate to fly and when we went through two different thunderstorms I thought I was going to have a heart attack or puke all over the guy next to me who refused to wear his shoes.
It was frusterating.
Then I got to see Jimmy, which was very nice. We went to dinner (had some Texas BBQ), went swimming in his pool and then slept.
Since there is a two hour time difference, when Jimmy wanted to go to bed it was only 8:00pm my time. Which meant I didnt sleep much and then had to get up really early. (about 5:00am my time) and now I think I'm typing while I sleep.
It is dark in this room and chilly and it makes me want to lay down and nap.
That and I got a severe work out last night.
I've missed him. It's nice to know I've been missed, too.
My tan really is pretty bad-ass though when my skin is darker than his Colombian natural hue. I get a kick out of it.
I still hate flying. Sometimes I think that I'd be an awesome spy or something and then I realize that if I cant handle a simple 787 to Denver, then the whole Jetplane thing is out. I'd have to be a spy that travels by train, or boat. It would be an ok substitution.
I dont even know what I'm talking about anymore. I need some rest.
You know how awkward it is to meet strangers, who apparently know who I am, and I've heard their names- but have a hard time remembering which name is who... it's wierd. I hate awkward.
Last night was kind of awkward. I felw from LAX to Denver and thenDenver to Dallas. It blew. I really hate to fly and when we went through two different thunderstorms I thought I was going to have a heart attack or puke all over the guy next to me who refused to wear his shoes.
It was frusterating.
Then I got to see Jimmy, which was very nice. We went to dinner (had some Texas BBQ), went swimming in his pool and then slept.
Since there is a two hour time difference, when Jimmy wanted to go to bed it was only 8:00pm my time. Which meant I didnt sleep much and then had to get up really early. (about 5:00am my time) and now I think I'm typing while I sleep.
It is dark in this room and chilly and it makes me want to lay down and nap.
That and I got a severe work out last night.
I've missed him. It's nice to know I've been missed, too.
My tan really is pretty bad-ass though when my skin is darker than his Colombian natural hue. I get a kick out of it.
I still hate flying. Sometimes I think that I'd be an awesome spy or something and then I realize that if I cant handle a simple 787 to Denver, then the whole Jetplane thing is out. I'd have to be a spy that travels by train, or boat. It would be an ok substitution.
I dont even know what I'm talking about anymore. I need some rest.
7/19/06
learned
I went to the pool this morning and tanned a little- tried not to be too anxious for my trip in the morning and swam a little.
People who lay by the pool are usually doing one of three things:
-Sleeping
-Reading
-Watching evryone else
I like to listen to audiobooks on my ipod and turn over ever ten to fifteen minutes (as not to burn).
Toady instead I mostly watched people be selfconcious. It is very heartening to know that everyone feels that twinge of nerves before they take off their clothes to reveal whatever body they have been graced with. It is universal.
The one thing that is saved solely for LA are the people who sit by the pool with books that are obviously not thiers, and they pretend to be studious.
A guy, tan, buff, tall- was lounging by the pool with a copy of "Catcher in the Rye". He started out by pretending to read, while watching others and then as I was leaving he looked like was really trying to read the words on the page.
How did I know?
His lips were moving and he looked very confused.
Somehow, I found it endearing.
People who lay by the pool are usually doing one of three things:
-Sleeping
-Reading
-Watching evryone else
I like to listen to audiobooks on my ipod and turn over ever ten to fifteen minutes (as not to burn).
Toady instead I mostly watched people be selfconcious. It is very heartening to know that everyone feels that twinge of nerves before they take off their clothes to reveal whatever body they have been graced with. It is universal.
The one thing that is saved solely for LA are the people who sit by the pool with books that are obviously not thiers, and they pretend to be studious.
A guy, tan, buff, tall- was lounging by the pool with a copy of "Catcher in the Rye". He started out by pretending to read, while watching others and then as I was leaving he looked like was really trying to read the words on the page.
How did I know?
His lips were moving and he looked very confused.
Somehow, I found it endearing.
7/17/06
rotted
I have lived in LA for seven weeks. I still have no job, but am looking everywhere- for now, though I am doing just fine
The fridge inmy food though, is not as happy.
Somehow when I go grocerey shopping, I dont eat the food I buy. Like my mother before me- when all i have in the fridge is a gallon of milk- it isnt enough. I need bread and cheese and cereal and all these things I dont happen to have.
When my fridge is full, I dont eat anyof it. The bag of salad goes black in the back of the crisper drawer, the cheese has a chunk out of it and then slowly hardens on the edges utnil mold creeps in little tiny spots like Jack Sparows hand.
The eggs just sit, and I wonder how long it really takes for them to start to smell (recalling a Calvin and Hobbes comic) and realize I dont think I want to know. The hamburger meat truns brown overnight like the banana that sit untouched.
I am a food hoarder. When I dont have any food in my house I am starving and would kill for a simple sandwich- when my cupboards are stocked, I am happy as a clam, I dont eat very often and I forget that some of the things need to be eaten or they will stink up my house.
I have a wierd thing, I think, about food in the fridge. I want it to stay there. I want to know that it is there. It is comforting somehow.
And yet I have the problem with it going bad.
Is that very strange?
The fridge inmy food though, is not as happy.
Somehow when I go grocerey shopping, I dont eat the food I buy. Like my mother before me- when all i have in the fridge is a gallon of milk- it isnt enough. I need bread and cheese and cereal and all these things I dont happen to have.
When my fridge is full, I dont eat anyof it. The bag of salad goes black in the back of the crisper drawer, the cheese has a chunk out of it and then slowly hardens on the edges utnil mold creeps in little tiny spots like Jack Sparows hand.
The eggs just sit, and I wonder how long it really takes for them to start to smell (recalling a Calvin and Hobbes comic) and realize I dont think I want to know. The hamburger meat truns brown overnight like the banana that sit untouched.
I am a food hoarder. When I dont have any food in my house I am starving and would kill for a simple sandwich- when my cupboards are stocked, I am happy as a clam, I dont eat very often and I forget that some of the things need to be eaten or they will stink up my house.
I have a wierd thing, I think, about food in the fridge. I want it to stay there. I want to know that it is there. It is comforting somehow.
And yet I have the problem with it going bad.
Is that very strange?
7/12/06
told
So.
It turns out that my smooth conversation with mom last night about my choices and everything... about he and I, about growing up was for nothing.
I told her everything... accept that I had already bought a ticket and was leaving in a week to see him.
She told me she was happy for me. Happy that I was happy. She told me that she thinks he's my Gary.
I cried, she cried. It was great.
Dad was something I was going to have to broach another night... and we hung up wishing eachother the best and to talk soon.
Little did I know that soon was this morning at 8:30, the crack of fricken dawn- with her yelling at me:
"You're leaving on the 20th?! I just got a currier here with boarding passes for you! What is this?"
I replied sleepily, "It's early here, mom- and we talked about this last night." Hoping she would accept that and stop yelling like Judy.
"You did not tell me you had already bought a ticket- dated, THE ELEVENTH!" (Yesterday)
"Well, I did. It's not going to be long." I said sitting up in bed and trying to wake up enough to concentrate-
"You're coming back the 25! Five days!" I said nothing and probably yawned.
"Where do you want me to send these?" Her voice calmed and I could hear Tom in the background.
I remember telling her my address and saying again how early it was here and then I woke up an hour later with my alarm, trying to figure out if it was a dream or a nightmare- or both.
I have yet to call home today, to... check up on things. I dont know exactly what is going on. But, then- if she didnt kill me over the phone... it cant be that bad.
It turns out that my smooth conversation with mom last night about my choices and everything... about he and I, about growing up was for nothing.
I told her everything... accept that I had already bought a ticket and was leaving in a week to see him.
She told me she was happy for me. Happy that I was happy. She told me that she thinks he's my Gary.
I cried, she cried. It was great.
Dad was something I was going to have to broach another night... and we hung up wishing eachother the best and to talk soon.
Little did I know that soon was this morning at 8:30, the crack of fricken dawn- with her yelling at me:
"You're leaving on the 20th?! I just got a currier here with boarding passes for you! What is this?"
I replied sleepily, "It's early here, mom- and we talked about this last night." Hoping she would accept that and stop yelling like Judy.
"You did not tell me you had already bought a ticket- dated, THE ELEVENTH!" (Yesterday)
"Well, I did. It's not going to be long." I said sitting up in bed and trying to wake up enough to concentrate-
"You're coming back the 25! Five days!" I said nothing and probably yawned.
"Where do you want me to send these?" Her voice calmed and I could hear Tom in the background.
I remember telling her my address and saying again how early it was here and then I woke up an hour later with my alarm, trying to figure out if it was a dream or a nightmare- or both.
I have yet to call home today, to... check up on things. I dont know exactly what is going on. But, then- if she didnt kill me over the phone... it cant be that bad.
7/11/06
switched
He and I are in a whole new place. I have a flight to Dallas on the 20th.
How exactly does one tell her parents that she and her boyfriend are not only together (when they thought they werent) and in love (which they dont put much stock into) and that she is going to visit him 20 hours away for five days?
How do you approach that subject with your father? Or mother, in fact? Much less over-protective and knife happy younger brother?
How can you express it to them where they dont see it as a Lifetime movie?
How the thought of seeing eachother is so huge and amazing, that it is all you dream about? That moment in the airport when you see their face and know that it's real? Holding hands in the car ride to who-cares where?
And then... how do you tell them that he is moving here and we are getting an apartment together? How do you tell your uber-religious family that you are living in sin? Is it sick that I think it might be fun?
How do you know for sure? (They'll ask.)
There is no for sure. Not ever, but there's sure enough. And that's what I am. Sure enough that it's worth it.
How exactly does one tell her parents that she and her boyfriend are not only together (when they thought they werent) and in love (which they dont put much stock into) and that she is going to visit him 20 hours away for five days?
How do you approach that subject with your father? Or mother, in fact? Much less over-protective and knife happy younger brother?
How can you express it to them where they dont see it as a Lifetime movie?
How the thought of seeing eachother is so huge and amazing, that it is all you dream about? That moment in the airport when you see their face and know that it's real? Holding hands in the car ride to who-cares where?
And then... how do you tell them that he is moving here and we are getting an apartment together? How do you tell your uber-religious family that you are living in sin? Is it sick that I think it might be fun?
How do you know for sure? (They'll ask.)
There is no for sure. Not ever, but there's sure enough. And that's what I am. Sure enough that it's worth it.
7/9/06
starred
This weekend I went and saw Pirates- so much fun! I really enjoyed it.
After the amazingly light fun peice of Johnny D. I went to the bathroom and ran into Gary Oldman. His accent was wonderful, and he looked older- but happy with a little five year old asking him all the innane questions that usually come from a five year olds mouth.
It was fun, today I went to the flea market on Fairfax and was shooping around in the little bodegas and tents. While rummaging through some really hideous dresses in hopes of finiding one that wasnt so hideous- I heard a voice I recognized but couldnt place.
I looked up and next to me was a tiny waif of a girl with a gruff yet peircing voice. Parker Posey was rummaging in the same tiny tent, on the same dirty rack as me. She had on enourmous sunglasses and a dress that would make Mary-Kate Olsen's taste seem bland.
She was yelling to one of her friends about belts and broaches. I paused, stared for a second and then realized that she was really standing next to me. Then I continued to rummage.
Somehow star watching isnt nearly so exciting out here. It's everyday.
Seeing "Steve" from Sex and the City in Chicago was HUGE.
Outhere it's impossible to go anywhere and not see someone famous. It's strange that it's become normal.
It is strange though, to note how very normal celebrities are. It shouldnt be a shock- but somehow knowing a celebrity has holes in their sock, too makes it all the more interesting.
After the amazingly light fun peice of Johnny D. I went to the bathroom and ran into Gary Oldman. His accent was wonderful, and he looked older- but happy with a little five year old asking him all the innane questions that usually come from a five year olds mouth.
It was fun, today I went to the flea market on Fairfax and was shooping around in the little bodegas and tents. While rummaging through some really hideous dresses in hopes of finiding one that wasnt so hideous- I heard a voice I recognized but couldnt place.
I looked up and next to me was a tiny waif of a girl with a gruff yet peircing voice. Parker Posey was rummaging in the same tiny tent, on the same dirty rack as me. She had on enourmous sunglasses and a dress that would make Mary-Kate Olsen's taste seem bland.
She was yelling to one of her friends about belts and broaches. I paused, stared for a second and then realized that she was really standing next to me. Then I continued to rummage.
Somehow star watching isnt nearly so exciting out here. It's everyday.
Seeing "Steve" from Sex and the City in Chicago was HUGE.
Outhere it's impossible to go anywhere and not see someone famous. It's strange that it's become normal.
It is strange though, to note how very normal celebrities are. It shouldnt be a shock- but somehow knowing a celebrity has holes in their sock, too makes it all the more interesting.
7/7/06
chilled
Today I felt better than I had in a week. I felt good, healthy.
When you have a cough you think, "God! When will this end!" and you cant remeber what it was like to sleep at night without waking up on phlem- and you get used to it. And you sleep through the coughing, you wake others but not yourself-
And then one dday you realize- you stopped coughing. That day is the best day of your life. How long had it been since you stopped? You dont know, but do you even care? And then, in a few weeks, months, days, wahtever- you start to cough again. And You cant sleep.
I am that person all the time.
Today I realized how great it is not to "cough". How good it feels to feel good.
I laid on my new floating pool toy and read the new Kelly Armstrong book and got a great tan and went to Burbank and bought a summer dress (covered in apple designs and it is so cute!) and I ate at Hooters and got hit on by some guy who's pick up line was:
"Are you related to Heather Graham? Ahsnt anyone ever asked you that? It's remarkable. I'm _______, what's your name?"
One: If you are going to use that line, wait for a response before you dive into your spiel.
Two: If you are going to use that line pick a celebrity that I actually, maybe resemble.
Three: If you are going to use that line pick a celebrity that is attractive.
Four: If you are going to use that line you shouldnt be talking to me unless you are expecting laughter in response.
Five: If you are going to use that line, dont follow it up with, "I'm a magician- want to see a trick?" and pull out a big set of silver rings from your back pocket. (seriously, it happened.)
Six: If you are going to use that line at a Hooters, dont stare at mine, I dont work there.
In conclusion:
I felt better today, getting hit on is usuallly a fun pick-me-up until someone trys to do magic badly and tells me I have huge hands. Thanks. No, I do not want your number.
As a day ender, I got a call from Jimmy, who may or may not remember making it in the morning, but it is nice to hear that you are missed from very far away. I miss him, too. He is sleeping with my pillow tonight, the one I left on his bed with the Star Wars pillow case- he took it from his closet shelf and is snuggling with the pseudo-replacement-me for the night. It is a sad and very warming thought, I wish it didnt have to be psuedo-replacement.
I am chilled from too much sun, I'm going to put on P&P and turn down the A/C and pretend I'm in Chicago and hadnt left my Garciaparra poster there to rot.
When you have a cough you think, "God! When will this end!" and you cant remeber what it was like to sleep at night without waking up on phlem- and you get used to it. And you sleep through the coughing, you wake others but not yourself-
And then one dday you realize- you stopped coughing. That day is the best day of your life. How long had it been since you stopped? You dont know, but do you even care? And then, in a few weeks, months, days, wahtever- you start to cough again. And You cant sleep.
I am that person all the time.
Today I realized how great it is not to "cough". How good it feels to feel good.
I laid on my new floating pool toy and read the new Kelly Armstrong book and got a great tan and went to Burbank and bought a summer dress (covered in apple designs and it is so cute!) and I ate at Hooters and got hit on by some guy who's pick up line was:
"Are you related to Heather Graham? Ahsnt anyone ever asked you that? It's remarkable. I'm _______, what's your name?"
One: If you are going to use that line, wait for a response before you dive into your spiel.
Two: If you are going to use that line pick a celebrity that I actually, maybe resemble.
Three: If you are going to use that line pick a celebrity that is attractive.
Four: If you are going to use that line you shouldnt be talking to me unless you are expecting laughter in response.
Five: If you are going to use that line, dont follow it up with, "I'm a magician- want to see a trick?" and pull out a big set of silver rings from your back pocket. (seriously, it happened.)
Six: If you are going to use that line at a Hooters, dont stare at mine, I dont work there.
In conclusion:
I felt better today, getting hit on is usuallly a fun pick-me-up until someone trys to do magic badly and tells me I have huge hands. Thanks. No, I do not want your number.
As a day ender, I got a call from Jimmy, who may or may not remember making it in the morning, but it is nice to hear that you are missed from very far away. I miss him, too. He is sleeping with my pillow tonight, the one I left on his bed with the Star Wars pillow case- he took it from his closet shelf and is snuggling with the pseudo-replacement-me for the night. It is a sad and very warming thought, I wish it didnt have to be psuedo-replacement.
I am chilled from too much sun, I'm going to put on P&P and turn down the A/C and pretend I'm in Chicago and hadnt left my Garciaparra poster there to rot.
7/5/06
did
I am losing my mind. It has only been five days where I have had nothing to do. Where I am in this strange psuedo-city with no schedule, or purpose, or plan.
I have tried to cure this feeling in a number of ways.
- I went to the peir.
- I went on a really tiny rollercoaster made for small children and pussies who have never heard of something called. "Cedar Point".
- I went to a Promenade and felt like I belonged in an episode of "Seventh Heaven".
- I window shopped.
- I cleaned my kitchen.
- I cleaned my bathroom.
- I stared at my laundry and contemplated doing it, but decided it was better kept incase I get REALLY bored.
- I started a blog and wrote too many entries in too litte days.
- I played board games.
- I got a haircut and loved it until I tried to replicate what the stylist had done.
- I went to Blockbuster.
- I outstayed my welcome at a party.
- I drove aimlessly at five in the morning listening to a CD my brother made me.
- I went to the pool and laidout.
- I went to the beach and swam.
- I ate a corn dog.
- I ate a hot dog.
- I read a book.
- I cried and called Sharriese.
- I read another book.
- I went to the gym. Six times.
- I refilled my brita filter.
- I straightened my hair.
- I checked the mail.
- I watched Pride and Prejudice.
- I saw "Superman"
- I called my mother.
- I slept until I was bored with it.
And now, I'm still waiting. Still bored. Still anxious.
Only now I have a sunburn on my back, a smaller bank balance, a headache and some laundry to do.
I have tried to cure this feeling in a number of ways.
- I went to the peir.
- I went on a really tiny rollercoaster made for small children and pussies who have never heard of something called. "Cedar Point".
- I went to a Promenade and felt like I belonged in an episode of "Seventh Heaven".
- I window shopped.
- I cleaned my kitchen.
- I cleaned my bathroom.
- I stared at my laundry and contemplated doing it, but decided it was better kept incase I get REALLY bored.
- I started a blog and wrote too many entries in too litte days.
- I played board games.
- I got a haircut and loved it until I tried to replicate what the stylist had done.
- I went to Blockbuster.
- I outstayed my welcome at a party.
- I drove aimlessly at five in the morning listening to a CD my brother made me.
- I went to the pool and laidout.
- I went to the beach and swam.
- I ate a corn dog.
- I ate a hot dog.
- I read a book.
- I cried and called Sharriese.
- I read another book.
- I went to the gym. Six times.
- I refilled my brita filter.
- I straightened my hair.
- I checked the mail.
- I watched Pride and Prejudice.
- I saw "Superman"
- I called my mother.
- I slept until I was bored with it.
And now, I'm still waiting. Still bored. Still anxious.
Only now I have a sunburn on my back, a smaller bank balance, a headache and some laundry to do.
read
this list is for my sister, who enjos terribly awesome books just as much as I do.
I have been doing a lot of reading of bad books- and here are a few you need to pick up. (Okay I've been on a Vampire kick, sue me.)
1. Twightlight, by Stephanie Meyer:
It's a vampire book, the first three or four chapters almost killed me- but it was worth it. I liked it, a lot more than I should have.
2. Blood Ties: The Turning, by Jennifer Armintrout:
Vampires, Vampire Politics, Dark like Blake only less sex and more plot.
3. Full Moon Rising, by Keri Arthur:
Vampires, Warewolves, you name it. I heard it on tape- and the Australian accents really make it. Otherwise it'd be pretty mediocre and over-sexed. But no where near the Blake level.
4. Undead series, by Mary Janice Davidson:
Like Stephanie Plum, only sillier and about vampires. My cup of tea.
5. Sloppy Firsts; Second Helpings; Charmed Thirds, by Megan McCaffery:
Non-Vampiric. This series is really great. Just trust me, ignore the cover art and read it.
thats all for now.
I have been doing a lot of reading of bad books- and here are a few you need to pick up. (Okay I've been on a Vampire kick, sue me.)
1. Twightlight, by Stephanie Meyer:
It's a vampire book, the first three or four chapters almost killed me- but it was worth it. I liked it, a lot more than I should have.
2. Blood Ties: The Turning, by Jennifer Armintrout:
Vampires, Vampire Politics, Dark like Blake only less sex and more plot.
3. Full Moon Rising, by Keri Arthur:
Vampires, Warewolves, you name it. I heard it on tape- and the Australian accents really make it. Otherwise it'd be pretty mediocre and over-sexed. But no where near the Blake level.
4. Undead series, by Mary Janice Davidson:
Like Stephanie Plum, only sillier and about vampires. My cup of tea.
5. Sloppy Firsts; Second Helpings; Charmed Thirds, by Megan McCaffery:
Non-Vampiric. This series is really great. Just trust me, ignore the cover art and read it.
thats all for now.
7/4/06
celebrated
Today is the fourth of July.
I am going to Jeff's house to celebrate with his girlfriend, Derek and Joe. It is strange. Kendra is gone to Arizona- and I am a little more than relieved.
I have been so annoyed with her- my stress level is through the roof and having her attitude about everything get worse and worse and worse, I just want to scream and push her out of the car.
and- I guess I just want to vent and relax and not think about the e-mail I have yet to recieve and the possibilities andthe scary things that are just around the corner.
There are no eal fireworks here. It feels less like a Holiday here- since every day in hot and sunny and beachworthy. At home day like that it rare and is pretty much declaired a holiday anyway,but you can always expect it on the fourth- but this year it seems like a nothing day. They play "Born in the USA" on the radio.
Great.
______
I am home. We barbequed. We played trivial pursuit (I came in second and am sorely dissapointed in myself, it was a close race there at the end). We drank Lemonade and watched the end of the Italy/Germany game.
At one point one of the questions was, "What color did Crayola create in the 90's inspired from the song, 'America the Beautiful'?" And so we all started humming it and then singing it and then laughing.
It was a bad movie moment, but it was honestly the most I've felt at home here. It felt nice to be singing the cheezy song that reminds me of singing in the car with Sara, Mom and Tom- I just felt better I guess.
It was the most patriotic I've felt in years.
By the way, the answer is: "Purple Mountains Majesty"- you may have thought it was "Amber Waves of Grain", but you'd be wrong.
I am going to Jeff's house to celebrate with his girlfriend, Derek and Joe. It is strange. Kendra is gone to Arizona- and I am a little more than relieved.
I have been so annoyed with her- my stress level is through the roof and having her attitude about everything get worse and worse and worse, I just want to scream and push her out of the car.
and- I guess I just want to vent and relax and not think about the e-mail I have yet to recieve and the possibilities andthe scary things that are just around the corner.
There are no eal fireworks here. It feels less like a Holiday here- since every day in hot and sunny and beachworthy. At home day like that it rare and is pretty much declaired a holiday anyway,but you can always expect it on the fourth- but this year it seems like a nothing day. They play "Born in the USA" on the radio.
Great.
______
I am home. We barbequed. We played trivial pursuit (I came in second and am sorely dissapointed in myself, it was a close race there at the end). We drank Lemonade and watched the end of the Italy/Germany game.
At one point one of the questions was, "What color did Crayola create in the 90's inspired from the song, 'America the Beautiful'?" And so we all started humming it and then singing it and then laughing.
It was a bad movie moment, but it was honestly the most I've felt at home here. It felt nice to be singing the cheezy song that reminds me of singing in the car with Sara, Mom and Tom- I just felt better I guess.
It was the most patriotic I've felt in years.
By the way, the answer is: "Purple Mountains Majesty"- you may have thought it was "Amber Waves of Grain", but you'd be wrong.
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