what a stupid day.

proceed to venting:

1. on my way to mayfair to pick up some altered pants, i went to the bank to cash a check - only one - refraining from cashing more in hopes i can hold on to money for a tish.

2. while waiting for said cash to be spit out of that little tubular thing, something goes bang under my hood. never a good sign... i look at the lady next to me, who is staring, mouth agape, at the little bit of smoke coming from my car. interesting.

3. i call my mom, and in the process, take the little cylinder thing with my money in it away with me... instead of opening it, retrieving my money, and leaving it with it's rightful owner. carefully i drive. no more smoke. drop the cylinder thing back off, the man asked what i was doing. "sorry... i took this with me... my car... something... i was flustered." drive on.

4. mom says i must get my oil changed now and have them check it out for me.

5. i wait for an hour to hear them tell me i am not allowed to use my air conditioning until something or another is hooked back up. thanks for showing it to me, guys, like i'm going to remember in 10 minutes. i don't even know what an engine is, let alone the terminology you are throwing at me. thanks for pretending for me, though.

6. my front side orange lights are out.

7. proceed to the emissions station, where i again wait a hefty amount of time for them to hook my car up to some other tube thing. hooray for half-passing... no go for the gas cap. why do i need a good gas cap, anyway? for those of you who knew me when i first got this car, i was extremely incompetent regarding my gas cap. i have probably went through about four of them because i just sort of drove off with out them. interesting, i know. so the cheaper they were, the better.

8. autozone supplied me with a new, non-faulty gas cap.

9. dentist appointment. SUPER. there's just something about having someone scrape the bone inside your mouth with various metal tools while you lie flat on your back. it feels primitive or something. are your hands really supposed to be in my mouth? is all that metal scraping up my teeth really beneficial? i'm pretty sure i hate everything about the dentist. i thought i'd grow out of it, but the excessive posters on the wall with stupid, stupid sayings, nature scenes, and animals [how long do you want me to stare at the panda bear, honestly.], scraping, and stupid small talk really just kill me more everytime i go. at least i got a toothbrush... that i'll never use... b/c i am very particular about my toothbrush.

10. emissions again, only to wait in line for approximately 15 minutes. boy tells me to wait in the box lobby to the side. i get out of my car, go to the box to watch. 10 minutes later man comes in, tells me to move my car all the way through; that i don't need to get out again. thanks for making me get out of my car, boy, only to wait and be told to get right back in, right where i left my little a.c. inequipped car.

so, all in all, i pretty much decided today was lame.

c'mon get happy

things i love:

~ songs with the kind of lyrics that somehow say it better than i ever could.

~ the fact that the people i love have unique smells... the kind that once you get, you never really forget... the kind that they don't even know about b/c it's just... them.

~ when i'm woken up by arms snaking themselves around me. comfortably tight. when nothing can get to me.

~ a stiff captain and coke.

~ unexpectedly good dreams. the kind where i don't want to wake up; the kind that make me wish they were real.

~ smiling; it's my favorite.

~ being stared at. in that way.

~ feeling appreciated.

~ possibility.

~ rainy days, where all you see are clouds. when it's gray, and you can curl up.

~ consistency.

~ when harry met sally.

~ people that make me smile without fail.

~ facebook. the opportunity to keep up with random people's lives... "stalk them" if you're going to get specific.

~ dinner and a movie.

~ creativity.

~ paula deen on the food network.

~ cold, white wine.

~ being the little spoon.


[just in case you were wondering.]

the aftermath.

as i sit here and attempt to pick apart the inner workings of my mind and what the hell i'm doing with my life, i happened to look up and notice a writing piece i had cut out of a magazine god knows how long ago and posted on my bulletin board. i think i posted it because i liked the writing, and when i was into the whole "creative nonfiction" thing myself i enjoyed looking at things that inspired me. however, looking at it now, after so many months, years, what have you, i find it to be positive advice for the greater good of breakups, and thought i'd share it with ye blog-readers. if bored, plow forward.

Getting Over Her
[by Steve Friedman]

Some of the things I did:

Explained to her why her pathological need for a father figure had doomed our relationship.

Bad-mouthed her.

Defended her against friends who bad-mouthed her.

Watched college football with the mute button turned on while she screamed at me over the phone.

Explained to her that I would always love her, that I wished her well, but that it would probably be better if we didn’t see each other or talk for a while.

Remembered the way she’d cry when she laughed, the delicacy of her wrist, her lustrous hair.

Called her and hung up.

Suggested that now that the expectations and ambiguity and fears and all the other irritating accoutrements that go with love, much as nausea goes with oceangoing voyages, had vanished, we could perhaps see a movie and share a pizza and simply enjoy each other’s company, because after all, we’d always been good friends and it would be a shame to throw away that connection.

Admitted I was still attracted to her.

Had sex with her.

Listened to her cry the next day and tell me I was manipulative and narcissistic.

Apologized, and then, when the apology wasn’t received with the appropriate amount of gratitude, accused.

Proposed.

Listened as she told me, over hamburgers and fries, that she had a new boyfriend, “and it’s so wonderful to finally be in a mature, healthy relationsip.”

Accused her of expressing hostility.

Asked her if she would mind if I asked out one of her friends.

Maintained a bemused smile as she said, “I think she’s had just about enough of emotionally stunted, selfish men.”

Asked her if she was mad.

Ducked when she said, clutching a heavy piece of Pyrex, “I really want to break this pie plate on your head.”

Received a naked picture of her over the Internet labeled “one last thought.”

Admired her vengeful pluck.

Admired the picture.

Watched too much television.

Ate too much.

Solicited advice.

“Have sex with as many different women as possible,” said one friend.

“Don’t date for a while,” said another.

“Do nothing,” said a third.

“Nothing?” I’d been contemplating returning every gift she’d ever given me, but torn, shredded, defaced, or otherwise ruined.

“You think that by hurting her,” he said, “you’ll feel better, but you won’t.”

“Oh yes I will.”

“Okay, you will for a second. But then you’ll feel bad about that. More importantly, the rage and despair are both just shades of grief. You’ll be sad, and then you’ll think you’re over it, and then you’ll be angry and you’ll want to tell her how she hurt you, and then you’ll feel better and you’ll want to see her. My advice is to do nothing, to simply grieve. Then it’ll be over.”

So now I try to do nothing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

question: when contemplating reentering a relationship, should one push forward, ignoring the obvious risks and inevitable consequences, or simply refuse to let the head have any part of it, pushing forward only with the heart, albeit a torn and bleeding one?

you reap what you sow and other new and exciting learned things.

• you can't complain about what you ask for. if you make a decision, stick with it. or change your mind. either way, own it. don't falter, don't misunderstand. don't settle.
• there is an extremely gratuitous graphic sex scene in "a history of violence" [a movie which, by the way, i thoroughly enjoyed, as well as the verbose special features.]... right up there with the one from monster's ball. i could make a case for it, saying that it directly contrasts with the sex they had in the first ten minutes of the movie... showing a change in character... but i almost choose not too. you should take a peek.
• shakespeare, my good man, is flipping ridiculous. i think the tempest is the most useless play i've ever had to read... and i think i've had to read a lot of plays in my lifetime.
• my dad thinks i need to make more friends. or, rather, "make friends that find it easy to make friends." i'm perfectly content with my handful, thankyouverymuch.
• i have missed the real world two weeks in a row. unacceptable, really.
• grey's anatomy on sunday was thoroughly disappointing.
• my birthday is on saturday. i'm "celebrating" friday, leaving me alone on the actual day. super excited about it.
• "don't wait on the other line." aka silence is, by default, nice apparently. to get a message across, be straight up. be frank. [or garth.]
• my heart hurts.
• the asshole gene derives from the penis.
• if a boy seems, or claims to be, "nice" you only have to wait to figure out where they go wrong. they will. promise.
• damn the system... who says you should go to school sixteen years in a row. unacceptable. lauren = burning out.
• "scotty doesn't know" is a great song that will never get old.
• sandy lyle falling on the dance floor in the first five minutes of along came polly still makes me laugh outloud. every. time.
• i read in Glamour that there's a new term for people who get less than seven hours of sleep a night and try to catch up on the weekends... "somnorexic" or something. if that's not it, it's close. i kid you not. i read it while running on similar hours.

mmm... all i've got. just bored of the never changing entry.