Playing House

I was talking to my friend Mark recently and he asked me about my dating situation. This is always (never) a fun question. I'm always "seeing" someone, and then I get bored and then we have The Conversation. This usually comes after they feel like I've really let them in, like they could really get to know me - but that's not true! I'm just an oversharer!

I don't like sleeping (and I do mean sleeping) with people that I'm not into, I don't like cuddling. Your body's warmth is making me hot, and I'm totally fine over here.

Remember, I like making out with strangers and then never talking to them again. The whole relationship thing leads to The Crazy (also found here and here) and finding someone worth risking that for is uncommon. I have an alternative to all of this I like to refer to as Playing House.

It includes all the benefits of a relationship,without any of the consequences because you don't spend enough time together to actually develop real feelings. It only lasts a couple days, or a long weekend, sporadically throughout the year. These "relationships" can be wherever with whomever, but they cannot happen with someone that lives in your city. My favorites of these have includes, The Annapolis Lover, The Russian and West Coast Paul.

You go out as though you are a couple, you might even hold hands. You have breakfast, you go shopping, you discuss things as though you are in a committed relationship, but you're not. You or him, get to go home, back to your single life where you can have the whole bed to yourself and not be irritated by anyone's inability to squeeze toothpaste from the bottom of the tube or leave dirty dishes on the counter (really dudes, why are these things so hard?).

This may sound slightly screwy to some of you, but you probably haven't tried it, or are one of those really obnoxious people that are always in relationships. I would like to spend this decade of my life moving frequently and without reason to stay in any one place, for me, this works.

Bad Influence

When my friend, E moved to DC a couple months ago she kept talking about meeting new people because she had "burned so many bridges" in Richmond. E and I have known each other since high school, but were equally annoyed by each other then. It wasn't until I moved to Richmond to attend VCU that she and I became friends. After a bunch of haphazard encounters we finally started hanging out on purpose.

A few weeks ago we were exchanging stories of our childhoods. She told me about how making friends was a game to her as a child, she would go places determined to make as many friends as she could and fully aware that she would never see these other children again. It didn't bother her, she just figured she'd make new friends later.

I was the exact opposite. I had a few very good friends at any one time. My kindergarten best friend was a girl named Kimberly who would get upset with me daily, usually at lunch or recess, and tell me that we weren't friends anymore. And every day as we stepped on the bus she would ask if we could be friends again. Of course we could, I had never considered us not to be friends anyway. I'm still this way. I could list the number of people I've had legitaimate falling-outs with on one hand.

E doesn't disregard her friends, quite the opposite, and I think this is why we're friends, she just doesn't allow herself to deal with other people's problems and projections. That's not to say that she isn't there for her friends in their time of need, she is, but she also isn't going to let you go on about things that don't matter for weeks on end. It's healthier.

I have only recently been okay with letting go of relationships. I don't do it well, and I tend to hold on for far too long. My, now ex-best friend, and I had not had a decent conversation for months. The last of which she had told me about the possibility of her getting engaged. Then I was supposed to visit her and things fell through, and then I saw her briefly at church of Christmas but she insisted that she was busy the entire time she was home, and it wasn't until after New Year's when we finally had it out, via G-Chat. Seriously.

The Ex-bff is still a practicing Mormon. She has never been particularly good at communicating her feelings, she's always taken the passive route whereas I take everything head on. We grew up together. We sang duets almost annually at church Christmas parties and planned youth activities together because we didn't trust (like) anyone else's judgment in where the balloons should be placed for youth dances, or what songs should be put in the Mormon-camp song book. We never had that much in common, but we complimented each other well and enjoyed making fun on the same people. She was really the only reason I went to church in high school, and she was fully aware of that.

It wasn't until we had this G-Chat conversation that I realized how much she disapproved of my life. It came out of nowhere, we hadn't talked, what did she know? She explained that she had tried to be subtle before, I had no recollection of this. She said that I was "self-destructive" and "let people walk all over me." She was the first one I told after I had sex for the first time, but I never expected her to go out and do the same. I never expected her to do any of the things I did.

She recently got engaged. He was, is, her first kiss. And from what my mother has told me, she has quite grad school. I haven't talked to her about it. She made it very clear that she had no interest in having me be a part of her life anymore, which hurt, a lot - I cried all day that day, and then it was over. I haven't talked to her about the engagement, but part of me can't help but think about all of her ambition. I don't think it just went away, I just can't believe that she gave up going to the best school in the country for her program to get married. But then, we don't really know each other anymore. Apparently she's changed just as much as I have.

E had a similar experience around the same time and we both decided that we were part of people's resolutions to rid their lives of "negative" influences. Good riddance. Thankfully E and I negatively influence each other regularly.

All by Myself

The past two and a half months have been full of the changes I've wanted (mostly), in the best possible ways. First of all, I quit school and started working full-time. This was something I had been considering since the shitshow that happened this past November. I have never enjoyed school, the only reason I graduated from high school was because my test scores exempted me from most of my exams and I had teachers that were very generous in extending deadlines for me. I have never been motivated by grades, I couldn't care less about them, I wish I did, because I do value learning, just not in such a structured way. And certainly not about Byzantine art or the complexities of a pig's chest cavity.

Deciding to temporarily halt my education was not an easy decision. When it comes down to it though, there was nothing about it contributing to my happiness - it was a constant strain emotionally and monetarily. I couldn't enjoy basic social interactions without being reminded that I had a paper due the next day in addition to having to go to work. But I love my work, I look forward to it each day, I love interacting with my clients and knowing (or hoping) that I have the opportunity to make them feel slightly better, or at the very least look slightly better than they did before they sat in my chair.

I had already signed up for my classes for this semester before I decided not to go back to school. When I clicked the little arrow next to each class to drop them, part of me felt uneasy; school is what we're told we're supposed to do for as long as it takes to get us where we're told we need to go. And my parents had been paying my tuition. I withdrew before telling them and it wasn't until after several weeks of "classes" that I finally told them. They took it surprisingly well. They weren't angry, all they said was not to expect help financially save for occasional car maintenance. It was as though a huge weight had been lifted from our relationship, not that it's ever been the most healthy of relationships, but it's easier to talk to them now because school isn't an issue and I'm not relying on them financially.

Secondly, last year I wanted a boyfriend, or thought I did, but in retrospect I was just looking for an escape. I thought being a relationship would make me happy. I thought I was in love three times last year. That's stupid. So stupid, there are not words for how stupid that is. I wasted so much time talking to my girlfriends about whoever and why was he with her when he should be with me. God, it was fucking terrible. I cried so much. I already cry a lot, at well, most things, but last year it was definitely excessive. I was unhappy with where I was living and hated being at home and didn't ever feel like I could totally be myself. Since moving into my own place I feel like an entirely different person. And all that effort I put into thinking I thought I wanted a relationship, I've refocused and enjoy being at home, by myself. And frankly, I'm over dating in Richmond (and DC), it's boring. Boys, I'm not sorry, but you're boring.

I've found that in my time spent alone, with my phone turned off, a record playing and sitting and reflecting is more enjoyable than everything else. I enjoy going out, but I love going home and not having to still be on to interact with a roommate or their friends; to a bed that I don't have to share with pets or humans. The mess is my mess and there's no one to be clean for and there's no one else's mess to irritate me. Perhaps this sounds selfish, but everything I'm doing right now is in an effort to maintain this contentment. I don't need anyone or thing or class or job to screw that up. If something isn't contributing to my happiness, I've finally learned to have control and dismiss it.

The friends that I've made here are some of the best, and they're slowly moving away. I have one in DC (soon London) another in New York, another moving back to Norfolk, etc. It's seems appropriate for me to get things in order to move too.

Faking It Pt. 2 (wherein I overshare)

(If you're Mormon and/or related to me, you may not want to read this, just a heads up.)

I spend way too much time with my sister, April. She's a stay at home mom and they have the internet and netflix, and more food than I do, and the cutest kid ever - all of which are reasons to go there. But because she stays at home, she also enjoys (or pretends to) my stories of being single and stupid and doing very stupid things, especially concerning the opposite sex and/or booze.

April and I are fundamenally very different, she is conservative and wears muted colors, and I am very liberal and prefer bold colored everything. She also has all these rules, rules about life and dating like, "don't bake for him until he's bought you three dinners" and "no telling him what he would look better in before five dates" - the list goes on and she's more than happy to enlighten me whenever something goes wrong.

She thinks that I have terrible taste in men, "he's ugly/fat/old/etc." followed by "and he's just not that into you" are frequent things she vocalizes. And she makes no effort to remember anyone's name "until she meets them." So all the guys I date are worthless phantoms because I can't seem to have a normal dating life, but I'm really good at the non-relationship. These are relationships that aren't defined, he is not my boyfriend, I am not his girlfriend, and usually one or both of us are projecting our feelings for an ex on to the other person.

Well I was seeing this guy for just under two months, given things moved really fast, but he was the one that said "we" first. I don't do that - because then I end up being that crazy girl who wants things to move to fast, so I wait and see. I'm really good at this. I also don't hold hands in public, or kiss, or generally behave as though I'm dating someone unless you know, it seems like a sure thing.

This guy in particular said "we" first at a concert we went to. We were talking to a friend of mine who DJs and happened to be djing the following weekend and Boy looked at me and asked if "we" would be going. I had been planning to go as I do most months, but I had planned on crashing at a friend's place. I explained that I was sure my friends probably wouldn't mind putting him up to with which he responded, "Oh, we'll just get a hotel." What? Right, because that's something that people that have been dating less than a month do without the intention of being in a relationship. Sure, it could translate into "I just want to fuck you in a hotel" but come on, you don't have to go to another city to do that. It was the night before going back to DC that we had the "I'm not interested in seeing anyone else, but I don't want to rush into another longterm relationship" talk. Story of my life.

We go to DC, we have a great time, we continue to see each other, we do coupley things, we go to a few shows, and then when we're on our way to a movie he says, "I woudln't care if you slept with other people..." "Really?" "Yeah, it's not like we're in a relationship..." "You're right, we're not." We're just spending several nights a week at each other's places and people are starting to regard us as a couple, but yeah, we're totally not in a relationship.

Things fizzled, that's fine. He didn't want a relationship. Whatever. I can deal. Then my birthday happened, and he slept through it because he had been "working a lot..." So I drunkenly sauntered over to his house and woke him up at 1:30 am. There were tears involved and I think I may have shouted something along the lines of "I want to be in love!" Because I am melodramatic and generally impulsive.

He did take me out the following week and we had a lovely, if not slightly awkward time. But I am not the type that just stops caring about people. I've never understood how people just stop talking to their exes, and he's not even a real ex, an ex-lover? That sounds cheap. Anyway, I'm usually pretty good at staying friends with people, even Mr. Potato Head and I managed to get back to being friends.

Everything was fine until last week. I'm not sure exactly what happened, but I've been struggling with money, school, the move, really just life this past month and went out every single night for two weeks in an effort to escape it, because that's healthy. Last week I was out with some girlfriends and I wanted to go sing kareoke, and with no obligations the next day we saw it fit to drink in excess (cue Four Loko). As I was walking up I ran into his roommate who told me that he was there, which was fine, except he was there with a girl, which also would have been fine had he given me a heads up.

We had talked two days prior and I had told him about my joining OkCupid and the dates I had been on, he didn't say anything. So walking up and being told and then seeing what was happening was like a punch in the face. I managed to keep my cool-ish - I spent a lot of time smoking other people's cigarettes and pacing up and down the block while my friend went inside and made new friends. But what's worse is that he did introduce us, and later I put two and two together and she dated one of those OkCupid guys I went out with. It's incredible how small this city is.

I went home that night and didn't sleep. That was followed by days of not sleeping or eating, and the knot in my stomach just got bigger and eating became near impossible. The amount of anxiety I experience in five days was more than I think I've ever experienced. It all culminated over the weekend with a series of panic attacks, passive aggressive tweets (that I later deleted) and vomiting in my friend's toilet Saturday night. Sunday was spent in a daze of trying to get things accomplished and attempting sleep, but turned into another panic attack on Sunday that ended in my friend's living room with a xanax in one hand and a bowl in the other. If nothing else, the munchies got me eating.

Monday I went to April's and she pointed out how terrible I looked, I hadn't spent more than ten hours in the previous four days in my apartment, and was still wearing Friday's clothes. Classy. Gross.

I'm not sure why, or how these things affect me the way they do, but they do and there's not a whole lot I can do about it. He has no idea (though he might read this, probably not). I even cut his hair and had him repay me in the form of liqour, and with the exception of a few awkward moments, it was mostly fine. Fine is what it has to be, because I'm not going to stay in to avoid uncomfortable situations, they happen, and I put on a happy face and deal. It's all I can do.

I've never had to deal with this situation before, I've always remained friends, or at least friendly with my exes. I know I'm going to run into them, and just because we're not together doesn't mean that you stop caring, and if I care about anyone in the least I usually make a point to say hello. It just sucks when you realize that you were someone's rebound, and that it's not that they didn't want a relationship, they just didn't want it with you. Even after all the "signs" and words, and all the little things, they're okay not talking to you and they aren't ever going to suggest hanging out, or grabbing lunch or drinks. All of that is fine, because thankgod, you aren't pregnant, and you can move on to the strangers on the internet that think you're "sexxi" and put on a happy face.

Birds have it made.

Last night I had dinner with a friend. We had Thai. I never get Thai food. It was delicious. So, I'm having it again tomorrow for a different friend's birthday - her choice. He was telling me all about all the things in his life that are currently bothersome, and I of course did the same.

He told me that I had to stop feeling guilty about things, which is true. For example, right now, I could be writing for school or a publication, but I'm not because right now I need to do this. And later I'll probably write some really terrible poetry and attempt to play the piano and become frustrated because I'm not nearly as good as I used to be.

I saw my parents this past weekend. It was only for an hour or so, and I needed my dad to sign some stuff so that I can hopefully move into my own place. So, my mother was sitting there with us and started going on about how her children don't like her. This isn't true. We do like her, but as with my father, we prefer small doses. I suppose this may seem mean or ungrateful. I can only be around them for so long before I start feel like a terrible person. My mother will first ask me about school and why I'm not done yet. Then she will tell me about some people at church that I don't know or care about and how they're getting married or having children, two things I am in now rush to do. And then she'll ask me about my job and tell me about how another person is making so much money doing something different. This will all lead to politics, something that we will never agree on.

I finally told my mother that it's not her that I don't like, it's the fact that she constantly puts herself down and then blames her children and compares us to everyone else. Life is hard. We're just trying to make it. I'm young, I have the rest of my life ahead of me and who knows what that means. I can only listen to what a disappointment I am so many times.

Going to a community college and getting an associates degree in court reporting in the sixties is hardly comparable to going to the largest university in the state and then flunking out. I feel terrible about all that wasted money and time, but at the end of the day I know that I'm much better on in Richmond than I would have been had I stayed in Lake Ridge. Anyway, I get like this after having those kinds of conversations with my parents.

I'm trying to get myself situated enough so that I can save up and after I finish my own associates degree in Liberal Arts, I can go somewhere for a year. And between now and then I'll hopefully find a way to get over all my qualms regarding writing. I mean, I just wrote all of this. I'm sure that were my parents to see it they wouldn't exactly be happy, though it's not my job to make them happy. I have the beginnings of things written that ideally one day will be published that I would like to spend more time on. And I'd like to spend more time writing music, and maybe attempt to get over my stage fright; grow up. Growing up seems an impossible thing to do.

excuse the sappiness

I am an exceptionally social solitary creature. I love going out and I enjoy crowds, but I often go out by myself. It has developed from not appreciating the group experience. Growing up I had a fairly close group of friends at church, and we were mostly the leftovers from our older siblings group of friends plus some other miscellaneous misfits.

At school I was a wanderer. And over the years I have maintained friendships. I know people who's friends come through a revolving door, and I've never understood that brand of friendship. For me, if they don't stick around, they probably weren't very important to being with. Certainly people grow apart, that's understood, but despite your personal difference one would hope that you can maintain a level or respect and humility for the person that they become and the way the relationship evolves.

I don't cut ties frequently. There are only two people with whom I used to be close that I have absolutely no contact with now. One, I see occasionally, but we don't speak and it make me sad, but they made it quite clear that my friendship was smothering and they simply could not deal. And I do smother - I am decisive and persistent and I can be too much, impetuous even. I call into the double digits over and over to reach them, I text obnoxiously and send emails regularly. They know that I am interested in maintaining our relationship and even if we don't speak every day, or even each week, we know that when we do contact or see one another that we are there completely.

One friend once described my friendship as that of a crazed girlfriend because I don't stop, and I don't give up on someone that I feel I have invested emotionally until it is clear that they have no desire for me to be a part of their life. I have had falling-outs and I have had arguments, and they are resolved because we communicate. And we communicate effectively; it's an effort to understand how others operate, but we make that effort.

When Christina and I were fifteen (or maybe she had just turned sixteen, I may be taller, but she is older and she enjoys reminding me of this especially considering her recent 21st birthday - she doesn't even drink, what a waste!) there was a boy. She liked him, and he liked me, and I was stupid. I went out with him a few times, despite not being sixteen yet - that's the age when I was "allowed" to date. He drove a 1963 red Chevy Impala, and was a bishop's son, and I'm pretty sure that those were the only reason my dad let me go out with him. Anyway, this was the one time where Christina didn't talk to me. She was that upset with me. So I asked her to make a list of all the things that I did that upset her. That list was three bulleted, single spaced pages long. THREE PAGES! Of things that she didn't like about me. I swear she started from when we met at age five to then, and since then we have been able to resolve any dispute in a completely reasonable manner. Guys, she is my best friend, we have been for fifteen years. That's a long time. For anyone. And we are complete opposites about so many things, but we compliment each other perfectly.

Christina and I were talking recently about groups of people, and how we both prefer the type of relationship we - one the relies on those solitary moments together. We are very much one-on-one people. I may criticize everything from someones shirt and shoes to their tacky make up, but I will talk to them, and I will give them the benefit of a doubt. Everyone deserves at least one conversation to demonstrate their humanity - though it is incredible at how many people fail at maintaining the give and take a conversation needs. This is later reflected in their relationships.

I had brunch with my friend Maia today. We were unable to see each other while I was in San Francisco (she lives not too far from there) but she has been in town this week and were fortunate enough to see each other today. We have not seen each other since the inauguration, the day we met. We met while trying to leave the Mall, and we walked from the Capitol all the way back to the Lincoln Memorial, up 23rd street and then to Q and 14 for hot chocolate. We literally spent all day together. She is 4'11" and 48, and we come from entirely different backgrounds, nevermind the different life experiences. And today it was like no time had gone by at all. We fill each other in on our lives periodically, but not as regularly as I would like - I plan on working on this.

Back to Christina and I's conversation, we were discussing groups and how we were not really into them, and how this can be frustrating when one would like to have a gathering. I would love to have Maia and Christina together at dinner, but the likelihood of that happening is slim, as are most gatherings. The people that I call friends maintains to be a very small group. I used to think there was something wrong with this, but the relationships that I have near and far mean so much more to me than mingling. Not that there's anything wrong with going out and mingling, I love meeting new people, but not the way that I used to. I have become more concerned with keeping that friends that I have than with making new ones. It doesn't seem strange, but considering my age, I mean, I haven't met many people yet, relatively speaking. But those that have been kind enough to me, to talk and carry a conversation and dish it right back without restraint are those that I hope to know in another twenty years. For them, I am so thankful.

Dear Universe,

I would really appreciate it if you would quit teasing me. I mean, I'm a social person, I put myself out there. I mean, I put out. And I am fully capable of meeting the following type of boy:

Boys in cities other than the one that I live in
Boys in relationships
Boys that travel constantly
Boys that live with their parents
Boys that don't have cars
Boys that don't have jobs
Boys that like boys

But I would like to meet someone with the following:

A car, job and a home not shared with any family members. It's a plus if he lives by himself. One that has a job, but doesn't travel every other week. And a boy that is not at all involved with anyone else. AND LIVES IN RICHMOND. And one that likes girls and only girls - fine if he had that one experience freshman year, but he should have it all out of his system.

I know that seems like an impossible list, but surely there has to be someone like that in this godforsaken city. I mean, really. I didn't even get to physical preferences ( 6'+, not blond hair, and it would be nice if all of my clothing was too small for him). And it would be nice if her were into music, has some athletic ability, and bathes on a regular basis. If he enjoys bourbon, red wine and watching bad tv that would be nice too. I also like dudes who look good in jeans and suits and know when it is appropriate to kiss in public.




But above all, the single-straight-in-Richmond part it the most important. And maybe that bit about kissing. I'm usually against PDA, but I had a poster of "Kissing the War Goodbye" on my wall at my parent's house in high school. And I fell asleep wishing to be that nurse a lot of nights, and it's all so horribly pathetic and romantic, and I have been kissed like that exactly once. I want it to happen again.

Sincerely,

Amanda Jewell Pittman


P.S. If this means I have to stop kissing in general for awhile, I could do that. I need to learn self-control anyway.

Among Other Things

I had the following exchange Sunday morning. My friend who was crashing at my place is Jewish and had complained about his roommate who kept texting him Easter related things. He also made me watch part of some basketball game Saturday night. Apparently my lack of interest in televised sports is a character flaw.

Dude: Do you know what today is?
Me: The day Jesus rose from the grave?
Dude: No. It's the first day of baseball season.

I should probably start feigning interest in sports more. It's not that I don't like them, I do like them, I would just rather be watching them in person. I can only watch volleyball and figure skating on tv and sometimes Premier League Football (because of all the faux-Europeans I know in DC) and sometimes swimming, but that's only men's swimming. Have you ever met a male swimmer that was out of shape? Exactly.

And tonight I met with a classmate to work on our project for PoliSci. We had never really talked before and we ended up talking for awhile. He uses Linux. And is an only child. And knows a hell of a lot more about what's going on in Gaza right now than I do. Our project is about that particular conflict, more specifically Ehud Barak, but that's all beside the point. We were talking about parties in Richmond, or how loud the Fan is or something when this exchange happened:

Dude: My neighbor called the cops on me the other night...
Me: That's odd, what for?
Dude: Acetone doesn't burn at a very high temperature......
Me: ...
Dude: ...it's not like gasoline...
Me: I have no idea what you are going on about.
Dude: I set this dude on fire..
Me:..
Dude: Well not really him, but his pants.
Me: I can't tell if you're being serious or not.
Dude: It was acetone, he was fine, I've done it before.

Umm...hilarious? Awesome?

And then I went to see the Screaming Females and Antlers, but it was sold out. At Gallery 5. The place has a capacity of 150, but I have been there several times before and it has never had more than fifty people in attendance. People in Richmond never pay for shows unless it's something huge at The National. And even then, if it sells out before the day of it's because people from everywhere except for Richmond bought tickets after the show in their city sold out (think Spoon, Wilco, Morrissey, My Bloody Valentine, etc.). Anyway, bummer.

So I went to my sister's to pick up the remainder of my laundry that I had started at her house earlier today. And she, being with child, decided to read to me from all the check-lists and pamphlets her doctor had given her. She has decided to have a natural birth.

April: Ten centimeters? Why is that the magic number? I don't want to start pushing until eleven.
Me: Well, that's roughly five inches, and that's about the diameter of a baby's head.
April: No. Have you seen my head? My baby is going to have a big head.
Me: But what about your husband?
April: No, my head has always been big. Have you seen my baby pictures? My baby is going to have a big head.
...
April: Mom is going to want to be in the room.
Me: I thought you didn't want her there.
April: It's going to be your job to remove her when I get annoyed.
...
April: Having a kid is going to be so hard.
Me: Are you just now realizing this?
April: Yes. Do you want it?
Me: No. I am quite happy being childless at the moment.
April: Oh.
Me: Why did you want one?
April: I thought it would be fun.
Me: No way. It's going to be hard and terrible. But kids are the opportunity to put the best of yourself into the world.
April: That's true. Who told you that?
Me: No one. That's why I want to have kids, one day.

Everyone in my immediate family will be a parent by the end of this year except for me. Currently I don't want to have kids until I'm at least thirty. April keeps telling me that I'll change my mind in an effort to "catch up" with my siblings. This may end up being true. I am younger than all of them by at least eight years - my whole life has been an attempt to catch up with them. It hasn't mattered though. To them I will always be five, or at least the age they were when they moved out.

I also want to spend my twenties moving every couple years. I mean, I grew up in the same house for the first eighteen years of my life, I should see something different. The life I want, or have slightly planned in no way includes other people. I want to be out or Richmond by 2012, and hopefully move to Austin, but that as well as everything else is tentative. Maybe I'll move to Topeka and write about Westboro Baptist Church, or to Tombstone and be a tour guide at the OK Corral, or Montreal and learn Canadian French, or Stolkholm and form a Swedish-pop band, or to Sicily and drunkenly marry a beautiful man who doesn't speak English, or to Russia and drink lots of vodka and pretend to be Julie Christie in Dr. Zhivago, or to Fiji because I don't know anyone who has ever been there, or Iceland just to be the new girl.
Or anywhere and be Julie Christie. You should Netflix Billy Liar, especially if you're a Morrissey fan.

"She's crazy, she just enjoys herself."



Story of my life:

blubbering

I went to a show a last night and knew(ish) the drummer of one of the bands playing. We chatted for awhile before he asked me if I had seen the movie 'And Education' - random. Of Course I had. He went on to specify where and when I saw the movie. Apparently he was working the projector for that particular showing. And he saw me, bawling my eyes out and waiting for the rest of theater to empty. I was aware of someone looking at me at the time, but wouldn't dare look at that person while my face was decorated in hives and wet with tears. Embarrassing.

We didn't discuss why I cried. Thankgod.

I had dinner with some friends that night, and came down with an awful migraine. I spent about half of dinner in the bathroom where the window was open and the cool air was the only thing helping. After dinner I gave on of my friends a ride and started crying in the car, and then made my way to the movie where, with napkins in hand, I cried some more. This isn't anything particularly special, but I am the ugliest crier in the world. It's a family trait. All the women in my family become covered in hideous red spots and get all snotty. What's worse is that I can drop at the drop of a hat, though not on purpose, it's just that everything makes me cry. And this combined with the migraine and then I mild, but long panic attack - it wasn't good.

I called my mommy. And she and I drove for a few hours with her asking to drive every five minutes or explaining that maybe I should just stay the night. I always drive when I feel shitty, there's just something about it that's calming and unlike anything else. I've gotten to know 64 quite well since moving to Richmond as a result. This particular night though, my mom, she never quite knows what to do in situations like this. It took awhile to explain to her what my panic attacks are, she doesn't recognize them and instead thinks that I'm just being unreasonable. But that night, she got it. And I calmed down and dropped her off and continued driving back to Richmond.

So, this dude, whom I barely know, saw me in the middle of this ordeal. And brought it up four months later. Strange.

An Explanation

Part One:

This morning at brunch some friends and I were discussing the feel of DC, in that it can be as big or small as you want it to be. This is one of the best things about the city, and the worst. It has everything a big city offers, but if you run in certain circles, it becomes very, very small.

Friend and I (in unison): I hate that!

Grumpy: Yes, but you (pointing to friend) don't have to deal with that as much as she (me) does.

(pause)

Grumpy and I (in unison): YOU/I DON'T EVEN LIVE HERE!

Part Two:

Let me relay to you a brief synopsis of the movie An Education:

Girl randomly meets some dude who is twice her age during her senior year of high school. He befriends her. Then woos her. They spend a few months supposedly in love, at least she is in love and is the main driving force behind their relationship. She notices that everything he doesn't always sit well with her, but she ignores it because everything else, in her mind, makes up for it. And she knows that she should know better. Some of his friends know exactly what is going on and they keep mum. And then he completely fucks her over. The end.

Lessons learned from movie/quotes:

"I feel old, but not very wise."

"Taste isn't half the battle, it's the whole war."

Part Three:

Part Two should help explain what was meant by Part One. If you don't get it that's okay. I'm using secret girl-code. But really, if you don't get, then you just don't get it. DC, unfortunately, is full of people that get it. And those that do get it know exactly how to use the people that don't. It's a pretty sick relationship. I didn't always get it, I do now.

Shitty People

I am decluttering the clusterfuck that is my life. This mostly includes reevaluating relationships that I have, thought I had, and/or ended.

You may recall a certain Couch and Mr. Potato-head. Couch has decided recently to be an asshole, make new friends and abandon old ones, in short he is turning into one of those party people. I find it pathetic, and he doesn't like feeling judged by me. Which is fine, no one likes to be judged by their friends, but if someone is truly a friend, I expect them to be, in the words of Lester Bangs, "honest and unmerciful." (Yes, I just made an Almost Famous reference, and yes, I am uncool.) So, I haven't seen him in a couple weeks, so I guess he's hanging out with his new friends in new, trendy places. I am uncool, so I will be staying at the old places with the townies and regulars who are all as uncool as I am.

Mr. Potato-head. Oh, Mr. Potato-head. He has done this really obnoxious thing over the past few months where, if he sees me, or hears about me being somewhere, he feels the need to text me. I ignored it for quite some time. And then when he almost ran me over a few weeks ago, I started entertaining him by responding. He texted me in what I can only assume was a drunken state and acknowledged this fact. He did not apologize for it, just acknowledged it, which is to be expected from him as he doesn't not properly apologize for anything.

I crashed a party at Mr. Potato-head's house on Friday. I didn't think he'd be there, and he wasn't because he spends about as much time out of Richmond as I do. But seeing as his all of his roommates saw me, he of course mentioned it on Saturday. Please note, that while I find situations like this entertaining, I typically avoid them as to avoid seeming spiteful. I am not spiteful, but a party is a party and no one really gives a shit who's there after the cops show up.

Anyway, he's been trying to convince me to see him for awhile now, and I keep refusing. Until Saturday evening. I woke up from a four hour nap, hungry, and with a body that was punishing me for combining-things-that-ought-not-to-be-combined, and I texted him, and told him that he could meet me at Chipotle in ten minutes or Sunday morning for breakfast. He agreed to breakfast at 10:30 am.

I suppose I was overwhelmed with the Christmas Spirit, or some other bullshit, but I was feeling nice.

I arrived at 10:40 am. And after a series of text messages where Mr. Potato-head told me that I was being unreasonable and stubborn, I ate, and left and he did not come. Because, he had yoga, and friends in town, and wasn't at home, and had to run by his house and drop off a key, and if I could wait until one, he could meet me, and traffic is bad anyway, and he wanted me to change my plans to suite his schedule. I probably would have met him later, had I not had plans. But I like having plans, though I am not the most punctual person, this is something I am constantly working on, but if I don't have plans I am always willing to make plans. Because I am awesome and uncool and OCD and slightly paranoid.

So, he doesn't show. I should have known. But I think he gets it now. I think he finally understands that I think he's an asshole, and that I feel completely vindicated in saying so after each time he has failed at redeeming himself.

And I'm not stubborn or stiff, I'm merely decisive and tired of people treating me badly. And can maintain my dignity while eating breakfast alone at a table for two in a full cafe. Breakfast was delicious, by the way. And I had a boy who let an entire bottle of Dr. Pepper go flat for me because he listens to me and takes note of the small things that make me happy, in DC. There were also Wes Anderson films and making fun of GW girls. And what started out as a shitty Sunday turned into a Funday with someone who treats me very, very well.

Good riddance to shitty people. One day, when I am president of the world, I will have a special place for them, in Southern California. And Minnesota.

Mr. Potato-head

So, this summer has been fun…ish. Totally. Funish. So fun that I am spending a Thursday night in my room with a flat bottle of wine and Florence and the Machine. I have turned my phone off and closed all the doors and have decided to address two of the male species. First, Mr. Potato-head and second, Gray.

Dear Mr. Potato-head,
As a rule I am usually a fairly easy person to get on with , given that whoever the other person is willing to deal with all my opinions. They usually are, but you, you have this thing where you like to address all of them and then tell me why, in your opinion, they aren’t valid. Most people take them with a grain of salt and don’t think any more of them.
It is my ability to be incredibly direct and honest to a fault that allows people to either love me or love to hate me. You, supposedly found yourself in the former category. I like these things about myself and find that in my being direct I don’t feel the need to deal with others’ inability to be direct. You are one of those people. As you may have noticed I have not talked to you for the past two weeks.
It is your complete dishonesty and indirectness that allows me to write you off without feeling the least bit sorry. Now, now, I have been more than accommodating over the past year in listening to what you had to say for yourself, I gave you who knows how many chances to redeem yourself, and you failed miserably. What’s more, is that you failed in being a friend. I may have wanted you as a significant other at one point, but that time came and went quite some time ago. Why you could not find it in yourself to be a friend is beyond me as I went out of my way to be yours.
Lying. It is not something that I choose to have as part of my life. Now, given I have lied before, to my parents. But you and everyone else for that matter will find that lying is not something that I do to anyone I know well or care about. I cared about you, and to a certain extent I trusted you, and you had to go shit all over it. You lied about petty, little things, that should not have mattered. Who you were with, where you were, etc. I was not your girlfriend, I didn’t have ulterior motives. I am curious by nature and don’t find it intrusive when I ask my friends what they’re doing. If anything I’m hoping that whatever they are doing is more exciting than what I’m doing and that they’ll invite me to join them. If you were say, driving to Roanoke to fuck your ex that isn’t my concern, but don’t claim to be hanging out in Richmond. Small things have a way of floating to the surface.
The majority of my close relations have encouraged me to do this for a long time. Some though have excused YOUR behavior, saying that it’s only because you’re so young. That’s correct, they wrote you off because you were so young, and for the most part they regard me as fairly precocious with my heart at the root of all that I do. You took advantage of that. And it is for that, that I am choosing to not include you as a significant part of my life.
Unsurprisingly enough, you have not offered an apology. Though I did ignore your calls and gchat inquiries. I wasn’t away, I didn’t have my phone turned off, I choose to ignore you completely, because I am tired of putting too much effort in to relationships, let alone platonic ones, where the other person simply doesn’t give a damn. And despite your words, yours actions have always spoken louder.


-ap

The Dog Days are Over

I chatted with my sister for a bit tonight. She's sick and I'm going throught the exact same thing that I went through last week but with a different person. I may like the lime light, but I don't like for small to blow up in my face the amount that they do - i.e. ALL THE TIME!

I will do everything possible to maintain the relationships that I have, if I feel that the other person is willing to put in the same effort.

And then I actually listened to the words, then read them, of Florence and the Machine's (who's song I linked earlier this week) song Dog Days (are over).

Happiness hit her like a train on a track
Coming towards her stuck still no turning back
She hid around corners and she hid under beds
She killed it with kisses and from it she fled
With every bubble she sank with her drink
And washed it away down the kitchen sink

The dog days are over
The dog days are done
The horses are coming
So you better run

Run fast for your mother, run fast for your father
Run for your children, for your sisters and brothers
Leave all your loving, your loving behind
You cant carry it with you if you want to survive

The dog days are over
The dog days are done
Can you hear the horses?
'Cause here they come

And i never wanted anything from you
Except everything you had and what was left after that too, oh
Happiness hit her like a bullet in the head
Struck from a great height by someone who should know better than that

The dog days are over
The dog days are done
Can you hear the horses?
'Cause here they come

Run fast for your mother, run fast for your father
Run for your children, for your sisters and brothers
Leave all your loving, your loving behind
You cant carry it with you if you want to survive

The dog days are over
The dog days are done
Can you hear the horses?
'Cause here they come

The dog days are over
The dog days are done
The horses are coming
So you better run

I know that love doesn't solve anything. It doesn't mean shit unless they're compromise and understanding. So, maybe I should just drop it. I do want to survive.

I was once told that I was the girl that walked around with two giant bags of melancholy and this I fail to check them at the door. I hate that description, but I suppose that at times it's true. So, I've decided tonight that the dog days are over. And if I'm going to survive, and be happy - something I haven't been since I've been in Richmond - I may have to leave all that loving behind. I'm sure I can consider my happiness first, I can totally stop worrying about other people not talking about what's bothering them: hell, I may even be able to give up wanting to fix all of my relationships because it has become apparent that if the other person isn't in it, then maybe it's just not worth it. Though those that do have put forth the effort know that that part of me will never change.

So, for those of you who think that I'm going to change, that is only partially true.

This is a journal entry from two days before my sixteenth birthday.

Dear Amanda,
Even though life is sucking right now, things will get better. Just remember to aim high for yourself. Parents and teachers don't count ad it is impossible to make and keep everyone happy. Just keep yourself happy. Bue we know that's easier said than done. With everyone bringing you down it's really hard. You really need to develop more self-discipline to things done, especially in school If you figure out what's most important, obligation wise, then everything else will fall into place. It's okay to feel sad and be depressed. We all have those phases, and it's okay, everything is going to be okay.
-ap

And because I went through all of my journals and found this poem that I wrote when I was fourteen. It's not very good, but it kept coming to mind:

Risks, confusion
Lust, confusion
Friends, confusion
More confusion

Rolling, laughing
in and out
over, under
tumbles
up and down
smiles, secrets
back and forth

in between, this thing
it's catching breath
the surface
are you in or out?
for tumbles and falls
laughs, withdrawal
in it for us?
if not, get out.

(I know that the grammar is awful, but I was fourteen...)

For those that don't feel it deep enough.

Before I meet someone, I assume that they are going to suck at life. This makes it much easier when they do, because I didn't get my hopes up. I like to avoid getting my hopes up about anyone and have yet to meet anyone where it would have been justified. BUT! I do always give them the benefit of a doubt. I always remember that first impression, but usually give people a second chance that involves a lengthy conversation where we can relay a couple of stories bwtween the two of us. It can't be a group, it must be one on one because I don't think people get an idea of who I really am in group situtaions. It's only after this that I feel I can make an accurate judgment of someone.

At this stage people are thrown into various categories, usually the acquaintance category. I do however do my best to be a friend to these people. Whether they define our relationship as a friendship is up to them. If someone makes it to the friend range, I assume that they are going to be around for awhile. Friends are worth fighting for, after all.

My friends have seen me cry, laugh, talked with me about poop, know about my family - where they live, what they do, how I communicate with them - and most importantly have been allowed to hear me read something from my journals. Blogs don't count, these are superficial, and very rarely mean much. Though I am capable of being very cathartic in which case everything will be written in code.

My best friend and I have been best friends since we were 4/5. Since then I've accumulated other friends, and lost others, but each one has endured the crazy that is Amanda Jewell Pittman, and each one is aware of how much I care about them. And for those that are no longer a part of my life, they may as well have died. I don't mean that in a bitter way, I mean that when we "broke up" if you will, I mourned the death of that relationship.

So, that being said, I've started to realize how disposable people are to others. I don't understand this at all. Once someone has become a part of my life, that's it. I'll do everything for that person, and it may be incessant and obnoxious, but it's only because I care. The idea of writing someone out of my life forever is almost incomprehensible. Even if I never talk to them again, I still hope for the best on their behalf. I am incapable of not caring. And for people to tell me that if someone pisses them off enough they'll never talk to them again is bizarre. It seems to me that if you're capable of doing that then it must not have meant much in the first place. And for these people, I am sorry, because if someone if you're friend, I would assume that you love them, and that is certainly something worth fighting for.

Say what you will about my being nineteen, immature, irrational, naive, inexperienced, etc. But you haven't seen me cry, and if you have then you haven't read my journal, and if you have then you must emotionally detached, which is common these days. I am sorry for your loss.

I'm not blogging about you...

The past few days have been spent crying and eating chocolate pastries. Pathetic, but delicious.

Last night I got home from work and was naturally very hungry. I thought that I had and Amy's frozen something in my freezer, but I was wrong, so I ordered pizza. Not just any pizza, my favorite pizza. Greek pizza WITHOUT black olives from Bottom's Up. I like black olives, just not on pizza - I have a thing about combining different textures. They told me it would be about thirty minutes and asked if I could meet the driver outside as they were very busy. I agreed, and when he arrived I quickly signed the receipt and went up to my room. Upon opening the pizza I started crying, they had included black olives. This really is nothing to cry about, and I considered picking all the olives off, but... have you ever tried picking olives off anything? It's difficult. So, I pulled myself together and called them back and asked if something could be done. I felt bad about this, but I had had such an awful day, and wanted what I wanted. The manager said he would have another pizza sent over and that it would arrive in about thirty minutes. I suppose I didn't say anything because he asked, "Ma'am, are you there? Is thirty minutes okay?" Yeah. "Are you okay?" I started crying again. I mean it really is ridiculous, right? I tried telling him that I was fine, but he didn't believe me, obviously I wasn't, so he offered to throw in a six pack, which would have been lovely if I didn't live in the dorms, so when I said no, he insisted that something else could be done. So, I got a brownie sundae. Score! The pizza man heard me cry, on the phone. He heard me explain what an awful day I had, and was genuinely interested. It's easy to fall into thinking that people really don't care about others, but then someone like Ricky manages to changes that and show some humanity.

Now, I would appreciate it if someone would explain to me why boys are so awful, always trying to do the practical or logical thing. It seems to me that feelings have never allowed me to do anything practical or logical. Though I have learned that more is accomplished if I keep my mouth shut than go off. And I think that boys in general are fairly lucky that I am not the hitting kind of girl.

Today was not any different than the past couple of days, and this whole "friends" thing is silly. There comes a point where being friends, at least proper friends isn't possible. This becomes particularly difficult if two people are stubborn. I am a feeling person, and even if I don't like my feelings, I deal and they either go away or they don't.

I have been waiting for these ones to go away, they haven't. I'm pissed.

But at least when I'm pissed I can come home to FRESH FLOWERS!

Yesterday when I got back from class, Jessica had left a small bouquet of Spider Chrysanthemums and a note. Have I mentioned that I have the best roommate ever? Because I do. I don't think she realizes how happy that made me yesterday.
And today after an outing that was less than stellar I came in and checked my mailbox and in it was a card from my daddy and a package notice. I went to the housing office to pick up my package. A large, green, ProFlowers box. Inside were a dozen, long stem, red roses, for me.


I seem to have some pretty good friends, they make up for all the boys I know needing man lessons.

Thanks guys, I love you.

I just want flowers

There is nothing silly about wanting flowers. And I know that it's Valentines's Day weekend, and some people think that's lame, but I totally buy into the overly commercialized Hallmark holiday. It may have something to do with my being a Hallmark Rewards Card member.


My favorite flowers are yellow or orange roses. Gerber Daisies and Camellias are close seconds.

And right now I'm feeling kind of shitty and would like to take a nap, but there is some sort of siren that is going off and has been for about ten minutes. Flowers might make me feel a little bit better right now.


If I don't get any flowers this weekend I am going to cry. I mean my dad should at least be sending me flowers.

And if the siren doesn't stop soon I think I'm going to kill someone.

Brett Ashley

Dating. It sucks. Mostly because V-day is like a week away and I have never had a decent one. Last year Mraco was still in Georgia and we had to wait to celebrate until he came to visit like a week later. And that still didn't turn out the way it should, or dates should - but that was just because he didn't have a car (Army) and didn't live here.

So, because I have been very frustrated with the boys in Richmond not doing things the right way, I've decided to make a list. DC boys, you did it right, and perhaps set the bar too high for these guys down here.

- I am a lady, or at least should be treated like one. I shouldn't have to ask for it. You are a boy and you should just do it, no matter our status.
- Open my door.
- Stand up when I come to and leave the table.
- Excuse yourself when you need to use your phone, whether or not you leave my presence. It's polite.
- Always offer to pay. It doesn't matter if I am dating you or not. It's called being a gentleman.
- An amendment to the above - because we are out and you are offering to pay, do no wait to pick up the bill. Pick it up immediately. Do not let me see it. But do wait for me to offer to pay my half and then insist on paying all of it. I don't mind covering the tip or treating us to dessert afterward.
- Pick me up.
- Bring me flowers. This is probably the only thing that other girls can dispute. Some people don't like flowers - those people are obviously incompetent. I love fresh flowers, all of them, except carnations and mums. Buy me those and I will never talk to your cheap ass again.
- Dance with me. At least know how to waltz. Dancedancedance. I want to dance, with you.
- Plan something, anything, a walk, take me to a park and push me on a swing, seriously, this isn't difficult.
- Though sometimes I should get giddy. I love the pre-date giddiness.
- I like to look pretty, you should too. I want to get dressed up sometimes, and I want to see you in a tie, and if you really want to impress me, wear french cuffs, with cuff links, without pleated pants.

All of this may make me seem "high maintenance" but really it's just traditional. I like my independence just as much as you do, but if you think I'm cute, time rewinds to 1926. And these things aren't all romantic, they're just common courtesy.

Oh, Deary!

Oh, GEEZ! I haven't written in over two months! And if you know me (and presumably, you do) then you know that I am busybusybusybizzybuzzbuzzbuzzbuzz... I've been meaning to, I just haven't gotten around to it, because I know that once I start I won't be able to come back to it, I'll want to start over, and because of this writing blogs takes me forever. So, I try not write them unless I know that I don't have to be anywhere for a couple of hours, this is very rare.

So, let me give you the abridged version of my life for the past two months:
- I had a wonderful Thanksgiving and after tiring of my family was able to spend the remainder of it with my friend Couch as it was his birthday and I had made him a cake and a pie. I am an excellent baker.
-I had exams. I passed. That is all.
-I went to Sugar Mountain in Boone, North Carolina for Christmas with my family. It was relatively drama free.
--On the way there I almost hit a deer, it was huge, and when I stopped the lady behind me hit the back of the family mini-van. Everyone was fine, including the deer who just starred at me for a bit before running back into the woods.
- I was not born to "shread" - this was manifested in my inability to stand up on a snowboard for more than five seconds.
- I went to New York City for four days the week of New Year's. I will do it better next time. I did make a new friend though, he is Russian and thinks I'm silly. He is correct.
-I have been to a lot of shows and have been a part of dramadramadrama. I'll probably won't write about a certain encounter more than this right here because the last time I wrote about one 239842739 people read it (Hi, everyone!)
- As a result, I'm attempting to avoid it. I'm even being nice-ish, you all know how I feel about nice people (they are so boring) so I'm going more for the, "oh, she's fun!" girl.
-My love life has gotten more complicated, and up until this past weekend, I was hoping for something more than what it is, but I realized that it's just fine after all I'm nineteen, and I don't need a boyfriend.
-I got yelled at in the metro.
-Right after that I found an iPhone.
- I met an amazing woman at the Inauguration, she claims I "saved her life" (I will blog about the inauguration, I promise).
- I wrote a story. It will get published. And you will read it. And if you have anything to do with me and DC, you will read and go, "OMG,really?"
- My grades were crap last semester so I'm on "academic warning" (pre-academic probation) so I've been trying this thing called studying, I've always heard about it, but busied myself with other things.
-I've started going to the library, and I like it. I'm there right now.
-I have to blog for one of my classes everyday, so I may be posting multiple times over the next few days to attempt to make up for it. Some of them will have prompts, I'll tell you and you can skip those. I thought about creating a seperate blog, but I already have a ton of things to keep track of and it wasn't worth it.
- I am going to be famous by the time I am twenty-two, or at least published in something worth reading and/or have a TV show on Bravo or Style, etc. I'm writing the pilot now. And I don't know if you've heard this, but it's my theme song of 2009. Joel is going to be my personal photographer and replace Annie Lebowitz as resident at Vanity Fair when I take over there.

girls suck

Boys suck. A lot. And so do their gal pals.

I had a recent encounter with a girl that is friends with guy-friend of mine. She thought it would be appropriate to go on about how "he's not worth (my) time" and "he will always belong to (this other chick who was a rebound to begin with)" and on about that sort of stuff. I explained to her that we're just friends, and retained my left hook.

I do not understand where girls get off being so overly protective of their guy-friends. I mean, this is not the first time this has happened to me and I haven't told him about it.

I played nice that evening and even went home and added her on facebook, she of course declined and well, that's just petty.

I have plenty of guy friends and while I'll tell them what I think of the other people they hang out with, I would never in my life dream of being as rude as this chick.

For example, I have a friend I'll call Mark, and he's liked this chick for most of this semester. But she is boring and unmotivated and doesn't have an opinion about anything, she is a follower, and they are annoying. It has taken weeks for him to realize this. I got it from the first time I met her, but I am cordial and polite, and make friendly conversation. I would never have told her, "Hey, Mark prefers girls that have ambition and opinions and enjoy being out and about as much as he does. He's also not over his ex, so you should really stop wasting your time." That would have been rude, and while I'm known for being very outspoken, I know where to draw the line.

I understand that people want what is best for their friends, I certainly do, but one can encourage what they believe is best without imposing, no? Of course we are attracted to all our friends, so maybe what she meant to say was "I am in love with him and am moving farfar away to try and get over him, he knows this and is encouraging me to do so." Yeah, I think that's what she meant. And that's what is happening at least as far as I understand.

I would like to say more, because I am just so angry, but I will restrain myself and hope that in the future she will as well.

The end.

modern masochist

Today I have eaten two pieces of toast with butter and strawberry jam, about twenty gummy bears (the green ones, I'm eating my least favorite first, you know, saving the best for last) and one kinder egg. My stomach is probably hungry but at this point I feel like I would throw up anything I consume.

I have a headache, and have tried napping. It didn't work, so I watched last weeks episode of Gossip Girl, too many SNL sketches and wrote some shitty poetry with my new Cerruti pen. It works quite well, and has a two year warranty. I hope I don't lose it. I always lose things that I really like. I'm usually a ball-point bic type of chick, but I think I might be changing.

In addition to all of this BYT has posted "The Big Empty" as their (Vintage) Video of the Day. It is a very depressing short film that really has sent my lethargy for the day over the edge. I like it though, I like sad things. I hope no one ever discovers an artic landscape in my vagina and then dies in it. I can imagine that would be really awful. I like not being empty.

I'm also rediscovering writing. I mean I write almost every day, usually I don't think it's very good, and the past few weeks I've felt like it's just gotten worse. But maybe it's getting better and I'm becoming more critical of my own work. That's not so bad, I guess. And I have a great new pen, and even if my computer doesn't always like to play music, it still let's me write, usually without interruption.

And in addition to all of this the sweater weather that I usually enjoy this time of year is getting me down. My fore-arms and shins have been achey for about a week now, and I'm almost positive that it's the change in weather.

I've been listening to Frightened Rabbit too much, that's probably detrimental to my emotional well being. But here are the lyrics to the song that I cannot get out of my head (well this one more than the others, but they all sound about like this).

The Modern Leper

A cripple walks amongst you all you tired human beings
He's got all the things a cripple has not working arms and legs
And vital parts fall from his system and dissolve in Scottish rain
Vitally he doesn't miss them he's too fucked up to care
Well is that you in front of me?
Coming back for even more of exactly the same
You must be a masochist to love a modern leper on his last leg
On his last leg
Well I crippled your heart a hundred times
And still can't work out why
You see I've got this disease I can't shake
And I'm just rattling through life
Well this is how we do things now
Yeah this is how the modern stay scared
So I cut out all the good stuff
Yeah I cut off my foot to spite my leg
Well is that you in front of me?
Coming back for even more of exactly the same
You must be a masochist to love a modern leper on his last leg
Well I am ill
But I'm not dead
And I don't know which of those I prefer
Because that limb which I have lost
Well it was the only thing holding me up
Holding me up
Well I'm lying on the ground now
Walking through the only door
Well I have lost my eye sight
Like I said I would
But I still know
And that is you in front of me
And you are back for even more of exactly the same
Well are you a masochist to love a modern leper on his last leg
And you are not ill
And I'm not dead
Doesn't that make us the perfect pair
Just you and me
We'll start again
And you can tell me all about what you did today
What you did today