Tuesday, February 6, 2007

For Better or For Worse

The more I think about it, the more I realize that I lead a lonely existance. I am lonely with millions of people buzzing by me every hour! It is ironic really. I have to talk to people, beucase that is the nature of the education system in which i am surrounded, but outside of casual encounters, i don't have the one or two people that i know i can rely on.

I would like to be optimistic and say that I will one day find that person, but i feel like everyone already has that and I am left with nothing. Don't get me wrong, there are numbers in my cell phone adress book, but none of them that I could count on loving me no matter what. It is more along the lines of:

"Oh would you like to go to dinner?"

"Sure I don't have anything else going on"
as time grows closer and it is just a few hour before the time of meeting...
"Oh I'm sorry I double booked, can we reschedule?"

TRANSLATION: I'm sorry, something better came along.


It is lonely. i think it is the area, There are so many people, so many oportunities, that my opinon of fun is over thrown by someone else's. It is tragic.

Every weekend, almost, we go to our favorite club.

Let me set the scene:

US - hot, being grabbed by people dancing with them.
Go out to cool off, talk to them for a while....their other friends come along....they dissapear.


This is my life, a series of dissapearing acts. I should prolly go through my phone book and delete people, they probably have moved.

I mean I am a fantastic person to hang out with, ask my old friends back home. i am not understanding why the people hear are so flaky. Even the people that I have have hung out with several times, they still flake. It almost seems that people are intimidated or annoyed by me. The people that I am closetest to treat me like I am their younger brother that they are forced to hang out with.


I just want someone, ANYONE, that will be there for better or for worse. Not just until something better comes along.

Why is he doing that?

I am currently taking a Bible History and Literature class to fullfill a humanities credit. I like to discuss what I leard to the people around me and I suppose I sometimes inspire other to read, or investigate something.

As I was discussing this class to one of my friends online, i saw out of the corner of my eye my boyfriend flipping through the pages of my Bible. Let it be known that I am not a deeply religious person by any means. The friend I was talking to kind of is, on the basis of his past. I think he has gained a greater respect for religion since his mother's passing this past Christmas time. But since he was so interested in my class i sent him the materials that I have to read for him to look through.

12:28 AM

My boyfriend is still flipping through the Bible while I am trying to fall asleep.

He says aloud, "I don't know why but this certain verse has been stuck in my head today."
I look up and see that he is holding my Bible with the front cover wrapped tightly around the spine for easier holding. As he reads the scripture I want so badly to make him stop. "Stop doing that to my book, your break the spine or even worse, bend the cover!!!" I think to myself.

i was vaguely paying attention to him as he read, but I was familar with the verse and I told him that it was very inspirational and that we should sleep. He continued to stare at the pages and as he does he tightens the cover around the spine. I wince inwardly at the sight of this.

What is interesting about this situation is that if you know me and my boyfriend you would understand that this is not the way this gernerally occur in our house. I am the messy clumsy one and he is the one who believes who heartedly that everything we own has a specific place and why on Earth would we ever move it to someplace new and not put it back. There are few things in life that I would like to be prestine, my hair, my bag (I always have a messenger bag at all times-currently a Tumi Flow Color:Moss), clothing, and my books.

I was relieved once he finally stood up and put the book back on the shelf in the next room over. When he came to be and shut out the light, I had a sudden urge to go check on the damage and to make sure that when he returned it to the shelf the corners of the cover were not bent by the other books. At this same instant I was reminded of my Chemistry lab that I have in 2 hours and the quizes that will take place in said lab. I allowed my responsibility win and I followed suit with his heavy breathing and drifted to sleep.


THE POINT:

Well I am not sure that there is one, but I do belive I have a version of ADD in which i am constantly confronted with new thoughts that lead me to other non related thoughts and ultimately I am forced off the course in which i was headed. Another example of this is the blog entry I am writting right now, i was studying, was reminded of the quiz which made me think of the event with the boyfriend, which ultimately made me want to write, which is now wasting my study time.


Until my next great distraction.

Monday, February 5, 2007

A Familar Smell

I just walked from the parking garage, where I parked this morning, to the library, where I am supposed to be studying, and in front of Duncan hall of Science they were doing yard work. The smell of gasoline, from the cars and the leaf blower, mixed with the smell of fresh cut grass felt nastalgic to me.

Growing up in the midwest, Indiana more specifically, we always had a large lawn mower to help cut the 8 acres of mowable land from the totalling 32. Early in my childhood I anticipated cutting the lawn as a priveledge as opposed to a chore. Later, when I became wiser and knew that my job of mowing the lawn was labor, the anticipation moved to dread. When i began outwardly refusing to mow the lawn, my mother would do it. Since I didn't have the responsibility any longer, I would instead sit in my overly heated and humid room and watch television. It wasn't until I saw how much energy that it took from my mom that I felt badly and began volunteering once more. When my sister got older, she started doing it. To my understanding she still likes to do it, so I don't have to worry about my mom.

Now that I live in the San Fracisco Bay Area I am beginning to realize how much of my previous life I missed. The smell of gasline and freshly cut grass was not a treat, then, but more a daily occurance, during the season.

Despite the smells of home I miss what it looked like. There are fully grown trees and a seemingly endless supply of people who are not mystified by the glamours of city living and are not jaded by such things as Louis Vuitton, BMW, Gucci, and Prada. I miss the time when before I realized what these items really were and longed for simplier things in life like acceptance, a girlfriend, most importantly - a way out.

I am realizing more and more that my off and on feeling of being trapped here is ironic becuase of how badly I wanted to be anywhere but where I was when I was in grade school. I often think of moving back home, but when i go to visit I am depressed by how much different it looks to me. I am not sure if the land has changed of if I am expecting more out of it than what it ever was.


What is more depressing than nostalgia, is a realization that you, too have become jaded and mystified.

Running With Scissors

Yesterday I finished Augusten Burroughs' memoir called "Running With Scissors". I found it strikingly similar to the experience I have had in life, thus far. Not the pedophile part but his mother and their relationship. The quirky, innaporpriate, and overall firghtening demenor of his mother and her way of life. More importantly her feeling that she was normal when, so obviously, the opposite is true.

Since I finished this book last night I have since began the sequel, Dry. I am excited to read how he rocovered, dealt with, and moved on from the terrifying childhood he lead.

Will update as I read more.