It’s too early in the year to be offended this much. Tomorrow I’m gonna wake up, gonna reflect, gonna move along. Ain’t nothing to see her. No broken hearts (or even would be broken hearts), cause there was never any real potential to work off of anyways. But so it goes. Maybe tomorrow I’ll throw in a little music to make it a little better, but for now, I’m going to bed. I’m gonna try and forget I heard anything that was said to me, gonna try and pretend that nothing beyond me and IT exists, it’s just us—the future and the present of education, ain’t got nothing to deal with other people. Nothing at all. The end, goodnight.
I hate the world right now. Especially the male half of it. That is all. That and screw love/crushes. They aren’t worth the hassle. I’m going back to being numb now.
[download Liz Phair's "Fuck & Run", i.e. the anthem of my post-youth youngin days.]
I’m in an Alanis Morissette and Liz Phair mood. Not the sexy kind either. The pissy, shoulda been a lesbian since clearly girls are nicer than boys (obv a lie, but point stands) kinda mood.
But at least I’m baking and reading (even if for thesis). Keep busy. Pretend the jerks don’t exist. Only me, my book, and my sweet potatoes a’ boilin’ in the pot (or three tiny sauce pans actually… how we don’t have a big pan I don’t know.). Nothing else.
I’ll take it out on the potatoes.
That’ll solve it all.
Even if I don’t know quite what I’m solving.
Filed under: Bad Calls, Other people, School, Stupid Boys, Trips | Tags: family drama, New Jersey/New York, thesis hell
Right now I’m on one of my on and off again best friend’s computer making good facebook message choices while stealing her expensive lotion. I ditched my family in favor of relaxing. And I feel very, very expectionally guilty about that. But atleast I’m relaxing, kinda, right?
I’m so angry that I forgot my thesis chapter. I really, really am. But, to clarify, I have my actual chapter, I just don’t have the copy edited by my adviser. And since we disagree on oh-so-many topics, I was actually planning on revising and editing and reworking that piece of shit, but now I can’t. At least, not with her intentions in mind. And that, of, course, amongst other things, is driving me crazy.
We have no car for driving to New Jersey/New York. My friend flaked on fixing her car & so now I’m looking at flying or bussing it, but I don’t even have a ride to the airport (3 hours away in Kansas City)…. oh jeez.
And my best friend via college (the perpetual bad call boy) is failing so very much in being an actual friend right now.
I just am sorta lost. And drinking isn’t really doing anything. Which makes me sad. Kind of.
I’m back in Carthage now. It was a mistake to come back here, even though I sort of had to, but I knew I shouldn’t have and well here I am now hiding out at a friend’s house. My house is ruined, my brothers and mother have destroyed it. They sold everything, including my books (my bible, really?). My bed was a home to kittens and as such it is ruined. I won’t be stepping another foot into that house save to salvage what’s left of my stuff.
I really regret forgetting my thesis draft in my apartment.
A week and a day until I’m headed to New Jersey to use my grant money and maybe learn something.
Oh yeah, Merry Christmas.
200mg later and I think I’ll go for another double-shot. We’ll see where that takes me. From 100 to 200, I’ve broken out the big noise canceling headphones, cranked up the volume, adjusted positions, fixed some more tea, and started write write writing to waste away yet another Buenos Aires night. Although, is it really wasting my life here if I’ve technically bridging the gap the currently exists between the me right now and the potential me that follows in the path of the great Argentine authors? Probably, but maybe (at least for now) I can convince myself that this ain’t the case. But, harder to convince myself of is that I’m not wasting my days. Today, I made it until almost 9pm before stepping out the door. And even then, I almost didn’t do it. Only after Joost offered empanadas as the prize for leaving, did I concede. The closest I got to social interaction today was between me and the black cat that watched as I struggled to hang my dripping wet (but very clean) sheet on the makeshift clothesline I hung out on the big patio a week after moving in. But I don’t feel bad about it. I don’t feel bad about anything and I think that might just be my problem. My apathy towards the increasing social anxiety I have is probably not a good thing. And yet, I just don’t give half a damn. Instead, I relish in it. Taking the day to plan my schedule for the Buenos Aires Festival Internacional de Cine Independiente, watch Blue Crush, and avoid the still too small to bother with stack of reading I’m supposed to be doing as part of my educación in San Andrés.
Today a kid at Reed overdosed on heroin, died, and the only thing I could think was “damn, my arch-enemy misspelled heroin.” I’m clearly going to Hell.
If I ever actually finish a story I start, it might be the one I started today. “Rolex Row” one in a series (apparently) of stories based on various locations spread throughout Argentina, but primarily just Buenos Aires oddities. Such as the street of just joyerías (read jewelry stores).
Espero que yo tenga suerte.
So. I’m obviously now in Argentina. Been here for… 25 days now. Only 150ish left? I’m only updating as a way to bridge the gap between now and when I’ll actually be able to sleep before my 8am class tomorrow morning. Basically, I love Argentina. It is summer and I get to wear pretty clothes and look at pretty boys and walk all over this amazing beautiful HUGE city while eating the best food I’ve ever had. But I can’t help but feel really lonely a lot. Whatever, I’m sure it will go away when actual school starts and I have that to occupy my mind/cute boys with actual potential (!!) But it’s not that bad, I just get sad and have been a bit avoid-y lately.
Kim y Novak was playing “I’ve Been Thinking” when I got there on time before anyone else was at the bar. That made me real happy. Also making me happy:
- cute Colombian boys
- dancing all night
- walking everywhere
- suntanning in February (!!)
- being warm
- the idea of living in my own place next week (!!)
I know now that I’ll never date Hardie again. Things are different. I don’t need him anymore. Instead, I easily go two weeks without talking to him and I think just about nothing of it. And it’s nice to know that when I get back to MO in July there’s someone literally waiting for me.
Below is some awesome story I wrote when out of my mind on something. I believe it was Thanksgiving. All by myself…
Filed under: Bad Calls, Música | Tags: alt-country, decision making, thunderstorms
I’m slightly torn right now between deciding whether I’m making good or bad decisions as of late. Time, as always, will be the final judge, but I think I’m possibly leaning towards the prior. If only it weren’t for the pesky urge to vomit that keeps hitting me every half hour or so. Mainly I think I’m doing okay despite (or inspite of) everything that’s been going down.
Also, summer thunderstorms in the supposed dead of winter are amazing.
And I’m sad that Ryan Adams sold out in Tulsa so now I’m atleast 8 months away from another alt-country show. 
Jeez I’m really sad right now. I just don’t know what to do, also I just don’t want to do anything.
Happy New Year.
This was basically the best Thanksgiving I’ve ever had. No family involved, either. I barely talked to anyone (save those I wanted to talk to). I was exceptionally happy the whole time. I watched I’m Not There in a crowded theatre of people who didn’t like Thanksgiving, either. I wore a pretty dress with pretty tights and pretty flats. I got told I was pretty. I ate pumpkin and a can of cranberry sauce. I got messed up. I watched another movie (yay! Wonder Boys!). I danced. Then I wrote. All of this out of order, of course, except for the writing part. I did that last. Then I saw the sun rise and went to bed.
And now I’m drinking hot chocolate with Irish Cream thrown in for good measure and I’m feeling pretty good. The Christmas spirit almost overtook me on Black Friday when I was at the mall and was almost compelled to call my Mom. No dice, though, not yet.
A week and half of classes left. Tomorrow, I make a move. Or at least, I want to, but won’t really because I’m completely inept when it comes to talking to people I don’t know. But we’ll see, maybe my cocoa will carry me through. And I can hold his hand and kiss him for a while before I leave the continent. That might be nice. His is, after all, my first official real crush since Hardie. Which is saying a whole lot, really. So we’ll see. But mainly I just want to know whether he knows how cute he is or if he’s unaware. That’s what I am really interested in. We shall see.
