As more and more aspects of my life spiral out of control, and more and more people I care about decide they don't want me in their lives, I don't know what to do.
I don't understand why this is happening.
Unfortunately, or fortunately, the drugs seem to be working, and I am not falling into depression. I'm sleeping, and functioning, but it seems to be worse than the depression. At least that dulled all my feelings, so I didn't end up feeling quite so awful about things I couldn't control. I was so focused on my own pain and my internal issues that I didn't even notice when others had problems with me. And now that I do, I don't know how to cope with it, or what to do to fix anything.
I've screwed things up with Danielle, and Friedman, and Elias, and Jason, and I've massively neglected pretty much everyone else. And I'm just left with fear. If I do nothing, it'll just keep getting worse, but I don't know what to do to fix anything, and I don't even have anyone left to ask, so I am just waiting, hoping for a thought that will tell me how to proceed so I don't make things worse.
Halfway up a sheer cliff, I looked down. And I saw how far the ground was, how cold and hard and unforgiving it will be when I plummet. Suddenly, every muscle is frozen, and tired, and threatening to cramp. My calves are burning, as are my icy fingers, and my feet are twitching. My mind shrieks for me to keep climbing. But there are no more hand holds I can see, and the ones I cling to are crumbling. I press my face to the rock and try to remember how to breathe through the feeling that the bottom has dropped out of my stomach, my feet, my life. And above me I hear calls of encouragement, tinted with impatience. And I know that if they all reached the top successfully, there must be grooves for my fingers, jutting pieces of rock that will support my toes, but I still don't see them. I breathe and wish for solid ground, or at least a belay line. I am not meant to climb cliffs. And I am equally sure that if I remain paralyzed here, my body will fail me and I will fall, and that if I try to climb, I will miss my grip and fall. So falling seems to be the only option. I press closer to the rocks and pray to a deity I didn't believe in at the base of the cliff.
I can't help but wonder, as the wind tugs my fingers and buffets hair into my eyes, if there is a third option. The toe holds I climbed up from have vanished also, so I cannot go down, and try to get around. If my life were a novel, I could just push off from the cliff and soar, and the wind would support me. But even if I could, those at the top wouldn't accept it. And I don't think it's an option. I'd have to do it fully, completely trusting that I'd miss the ground, but I don't have that kind of faith. I'm much too aware of how far the ground is, and of my own frailty. If the cliff is some sort of metaphor for recovery, shouldn't it get easier as I get higher? It doesn't. I cling to the sheer wall, wondering how many of them actually climbed the cliff unaided, and wait as the blood drains from icy fingers clenched into sharp stone, wait for the inevitable fall.
Saturday, November 21, 2009
Remember the Alamo?
An unfocused and unproductive week.
Well, except that I finished the hat I was knitting and started a new one.
But enough about that- today, I am reminded that the internet is a magical place.
Two things to share:
1. I want an LED tattoo. So fucking awesome. I really think step two would be to make it touch sensitive, so you could draw on your body with your finger and have it show the strokes (or on someone else's body, even better). Like the best body paint EVER. I want. Make this. Make it cheap, and make it safe and make it now.
2. Glen Beck is a rodeo clown. But a rodeo clown with a good point: "Will anyone look at these issues instead of looking at my past? We will continue to fight this, you and me together, you and me and quite frankly, Fox News, the Alamo for truth!"
Yes. Fox News is the Alamo for truth. Where it is brutally massacred, so people with no sense of history can use it incorrectly later. Well put.
In other news, I will never understand men. Anyone with an explanation is more than welcome to try, but I really think they're all just either completely mad or incurably stupid. Or maybe I am. Because more and more of them keep being added to the "he's being weird and I don't know why" pile.
Well, except that I finished the hat I was knitting and started a new one.
But enough about that- today, I am reminded that the internet is a magical place.
Two things to share:
1. I want an LED tattoo. So fucking awesome. I really think step two would be to make it touch sensitive, so you could draw on your body with your finger and have it show the strokes (or on someone else's body, even better). Like the best body paint EVER. I want. Make this. Make it cheap, and make it safe and make it now.
2. Glen Beck is a rodeo clown. But a rodeo clown with a good point: "Will anyone look at these issues instead of looking at my past? We will continue to fight this, you and me together, you and me and quite frankly, Fox News, the Alamo for truth!"
Yes. Fox News is the Alamo for truth. Where it is brutally massacred, so people with no sense of history can use it incorrectly later. Well put.
In other news, I will never understand men. Anyone with an explanation is more than welcome to try, but I really think they're all just either completely mad or incurably stupid. Or maybe I am. Because more and more of them keep being added to the "he's being weird and I don't know why" pile.
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Thursday, November 12, 2009
I Will
Will is the best word. Almost as good as Hat. Which is my word.
I am a moose. A Moose in a Hat....
Anyway. Will. Will is both the word that says, yes, I'm going to do or be or achieve whatever it might be, and the way you do that. I Will, because I Will it to be so, Through Will (the force) I will (the action).
Such a good word.
I will be bold. I WILL.
I will be me. I will stop being afraid of what others might think. I will wear what I want, I will make the art I want, and if you don't like it, that is not my problem. It is not my fault.
This would be easier to accomplish if I weren't going to see my grandparents tomorrow. My mom's reactions are likely to be difficult enough. I know they're not going to stop loving me if I wear a tutu, but they want explanations. Why did you dye your hair purple? Why are you wearing that? Why don't you get a job and be normal?
Because I want to. Because I can. Because I have tried to be the person you want me to be for long enough, and that isn't who I am. And it's not making me happy.
Perhaps because I have been letting them get their way for so long, it is harder to break free. Most off my friends stopped doing things because they were "supposed to" gradually, over years, starting in middle and high school. I am doing it more abruptly, and later. And it's hard. But I have to. For me. I Will.
If everyone did this, we would all stop trying to make other people who we think they should be, and let them be who they are.
I am a moose. A Moose in a Hat....
Anyway. Will. Will is both the word that says, yes, I'm going to do or be or achieve whatever it might be, and the way you do that. I Will, because I Will it to be so, Through Will (the force) I will (the action).
Such a good word.
I will be bold. I WILL.
I will be me. I will stop being afraid of what others might think. I will wear what I want, I will make the art I want, and if you don't like it, that is not my problem. It is not my fault.
This would be easier to accomplish if I weren't going to see my grandparents tomorrow. My mom's reactions are likely to be difficult enough. I know they're not going to stop loving me if I wear a tutu, but they want explanations. Why did you dye your hair purple? Why are you wearing that? Why don't you get a job and be normal?
Because I want to. Because I can. Because I have tried to be the person you want me to be for long enough, and that isn't who I am. And it's not making me happy.
Perhaps because I have been letting them get their way for so long, it is harder to break free. Most off my friends stopped doing things because they were "supposed to" gradually, over years, starting in middle and high school. I am doing it more abruptly, and later. And it's hard. But I have to. For me. I Will.
If everyone did this, we would all stop trying to make other people who we think they should be, and let them be who they are.
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Worse Things have happened
Today I went to the Met. Which I was too ansty for, I couldn't focus on the art and when I tried to sketch in the Greek and Roman galeries, I discovered 2 things that prevented me from doing much. 1) the benches are all facing the backs of the pieces or at awkward angles and 2) there are an awful lot of people in the Met at 2:30 on a Tuesday afternoon. Doesn't anyone work? In the right art mindset neither of these would be a problem. In the Louve, I crouched on the floor in corners until my legs gave out and I fell over because I'd gone numb from too many sketches of too many pieces. Today, I managed a very brief 10 minute sketch of a marble statue of Venus. And that was it.
I did, however, discover the "study room" above the gallery which is filled with crowded glass cases roughly sorted of pottery, statues, jewelery and whatever other bits and pieces they had. And I do mean roughly sorted: each case contains probably a hundred various objects, and is simply marked "Crete: Bronze Age" or "Horses in Imperial Rome". I'm making the specific titles up, but you get the idea. This room was mostly empty, and had what I think of as that "Brittish Museum feeling". Now, I have never been to the Brittish Museum, so I have no clue why I think this, but it's when you're in a space that feels amazing, holy almost, in that you can feel the palpable energy of the history or art or whatever. Most spaces that should have this feeling (such as the Acropolis) have been trampled and filled with tourists, so the eons of emotion and worship have been crushed and can no longer be felt.
This is one of the saddest things in our world.
Mostly, I tell myself that worse things have happened, which Danielle wrote a beautiful post about today, quoting from The God of Small Things by Arundhati Roy, on (amongst other things) the idea that Worse Things Have Happened. This is an idea that both saves me and gets me into trouble. No matter what is happening, I might reply "worse things have happened" - which could mean "I've survived worse, so I'm not afraid" but could equally be -not sarcastic exactly- but somewhat tounge in cheek "Is that supposed to worry me? It actually sounds kinda good."
I use the first way much more. To remind myself that nothing thus far has proven stronger than I am, so while this might suck, it too is temporary and I can survive it too. Because I'm quite durable. I'm tired, but who isn't?
However, when it comes to a few things, like the way our world has become so comercial and fake, I lose perspective. Worse things have happened, like genocide. But its all so tangle together at this point. When I sit on the subway, and some guy panhandles by singing the song he wrote for Jesus and everyone carefully ignores him, I turn up my ipod too. And I watch as no one looks at him or each other, at a city full of people pretending to be alone in crowded cars where every lurch presses you against a stranger. And I know why we can distroy so much for "comfort" and the all-important "convenience". Because it is a culture of self-absorption. Of loud voices and disregard for history and beauty. And I am certainly an offender. And I wish I could stop. But I know tomorrow, I'll be back to my desire to consume. Hell, I spent too much money today (art supplies and candles) and we all know I'm not going to undergo a radical personality shift and give up the soda and chocolate and junk food or the loud, sarcastic commentary or my ipod or cell phone or laptop. But as a society, we must do something. Because how can this culture leave anything but hollowed-out, brittle, self-absorbed shells where people are supposed to be?
And now I'm thouroughly depressed.
I did, however, discover the "study room" above the gallery which is filled with crowded glass cases roughly sorted of pottery, statues, jewelery and whatever other bits and pieces they had. And I do mean roughly sorted: each case contains probably a hundred various objects, and is simply marked "Crete: Bronze Age" or "Horses in Imperial Rome". I'm making the specific titles up, but you get the idea. This room was mostly empty, and had what I think of as that "Brittish Museum feeling". Now, I have never been to the Brittish Museum, so I have no clue why I think this, but it's when you're in a space that feels amazing, holy almost, in that you can feel the palpable energy of the history or art or whatever. Most spaces that should have this feeling (such as the Acropolis) have been trampled and filled with tourists, so the eons of emotion and worship have been crushed and can no longer be felt.
This is one of the saddest things in our world.
Mostly, I tell myself that worse things have happened, which Danielle wrote a beautiful post about today, quoting from The God of Small Things by Arundhati Roy, on (amongst other things) the idea that Worse Things Have Happened. This is an idea that both saves me and gets me into trouble. No matter what is happening, I might reply "worse things have happened" - which could mean "I've survived worse, so I'm not afraid" but could equally be -not sarcastic exactly- but somewhat tounge in cheek "Is that supposed to worry me? It actually sounds kinda good."
I use the first way much more. To remind myself that nothing thus far has proven stronger than I am, so while this might suck, it too is temporary and I can survive it too. Because I'm quite durable. I'm tired, but who isn't?
However, when it comes to a few things, like the way our world has become so comercial and fake, I lose perspective. Worse things have happened, like genocide. But its all so tangle together at this point. When I sit on the subway, and some guy panhandles by singing the song he wrote for Jesus and everyone carefully ignores him, I turn up my ipod too. And I watch as no one looks at him or each other, at a city full of people pretending to be alone in crowded cars where every lurch presses you against a stranger. And I know why we can distroy so much for "comfort" and the all-important "convenience". Because it is a culture of self-absorption. Of loud voices and disregard for history and beauty. And I am certainly an offender. And I wish I could stop. But I know tomorrow, I'll be back to my desire to consume. Hell, I spent too much money today (art supplies and candles) and we all know I'm not going to undergo a radical personality shift and give up the soda and chocolate and junk food or the loud, sarcastic commentary or my ipod or cell phone or laptop. But as a society, we must do something. Because how can this culture leave anything but hollowed-out, brittle, self-absorbed shells where people are supposed to be?
And now I'm thouroughly depressed.
Monday, November 9, 2009
Moving
No, not where I live. As previously mentioned, I have no money or job or prospects for either, and until those things materialize I will continue to live with my mom, who is very kindly supporting my foray into insanity. Which is very kind of her, and also crucially important both to my financial situation so I can have time to make art and to my emotional health so that I can feel ok about doing so (it's really important for me to feel supported by someone, that this isn't a completely insane thing for me to be doing, even if that person is my mom, and the love and support is more or less unconditional and not based solely on artistic merit).
I am, however, thinking of moving to a new blog address and (having now just signed up for accounts on etsy and youtube) trying my hand at making some videos and selling my art. Because I need to stop sitting around, thinking I'm just as good as these other people, and why do they have huge followings and I don't, and get out there and try. Trying is, at least for the moment, just as important (if not more important) than succeeding.
Unfortunately, this plan is slightly more challenging due to the fact that I don't really have the necessary technology. Sure, I have a digital camera, and it takes video, but it's quite crappy, and so my pictures of my art don't really do them any justice. Also, I only have a 1gb card, so who knows how much video I can capture? Probably not much... well, t says 12 minutes, but I have about 30 pics on it at the moment. Maybe my brother will let my borrow his nice camera or Friedman will, or something, and I'm thinking about asking for a video camera for Christmas or something. We'll see.
I am, however, thinking of moving to a new blog address and (having now just signed up for accounts on etsy and youtube) trying my hand at making some videos and selling my art. Because I need to stop sitting around, thinking I'm just as good as these other people, and why do they have huge followings and I don't, and get out there and try. Trying is, at least for the moment, just as important (if not more important) than succeeding.
Unfortunately, this plan is slightly more challenging due to the fact that I don't really have the necessary technology. Sure, I have a digital camera, and it takes video, but it's quite crappy, and so my pictures of my art don't really do them any justice. Also, I only have a 1gb card, so who knows how much video I can capture? Probably not much... well, t says 12 minutes, but I have about 30 pics on it at the moment. Maybe my brother will let my borrow his nice camera or Friedman will, or something, and I'm thinking about asking for a video camera for Christmas or something. We'll see.
Process Story
In politics, the last thing you want is for the press to write a process story. You want them to write about the issue, not about how the government is working.
But I like process, it fascinates me.
I always want to know what people are thinking. how they're doing stuff, and why.
So my art process is all about stopping that.
Stop thinking, just do.
I try to stop worrying about how each piece is going to end up, and focus on making it.
And if I don't think about what I'm doing, that is, I shut off the nasty voice inside my head that paralyzes me with a thousand questions (what is this piece going to say about me? how will it make the viewer feel? what does it mean? will anyone like it? is it worth doing?). Sometimes then I make art that is "good" whatever that means. Mostly I tell myself that all that "good" means is that I like it, either because its beautiful, or it makes me feel something or it effectively communicates my point of view. But I still don't know if anyone else will feel that way, and the only way I can know that is to show it to other people. Which is terrifying.
I have to get over that. I tell myself that if just one person buys just one piece of my art, then it'll feel better. I won't have to be afraid anymore. But I'm sure that that isn't true, that no matter how many other people like my art, or even buy it, I'll still be afraid that every piece isn't good enough. In fact it'll only add more pressure. Because every piece is a risk, each time I make art I am putting myself out there, letting people into my brain, and if they don't like it, then I must not be any good, and I should stop now.
Which is why I don't try to sell my art. But that's silly.
Everyone doesn't have to like your art for it to be worthwhile. And as long as I learned something, or enjoyed making it, or like the result, then it is "good", and I should keep doing it.
And you should too. When did we decide that all that mattered was results, measured solely in other people's opinions and willingness to spend money? What messed up cultural idea made us think that was how we should measure the "value" of our art, and of ourselves?
I refuse to play that game anymore. I will create what I want to create, and I will try to sell it. And maybe someone will like it too, and buy some. And maybe they won't. But how can I know unless I try?
But I like process, it fascinates me.
I always want to know what people are thinking. how they're doing stuff, and why.
So my art process is all about stopping that.
Stop thinking, just do.
I try to stop worrying about how each piece is going to end up, and focus on making it.
And if I don't think about what I'm doing, that is, I shut off the nasty voice inside my head that paralyzes me with a thousand questions (what is this piece going to say about me? how will it make the viewer feel? what does it mean? will anyone like it? is it worth doing?). Sometimes then I make art that is "good" whatever that means. Mostly I tell myself that all that "good" means is that I like it, either because its beautiful, or it makes me feel something or it effectively communicates my point of view. But I still don't know if anyone else will feel that way, and the only way I can know that is to show it to other people. Which is terrifying.
I have to get over that. I tell myself that if just one person buys just one piece of my art, then it'll feel better. I won't have to be afraid anymore. But I'm sure that that isn't true, that no matter how many other people like my art, or even buy it, I'll still be afraid that every piece isn't good enough. In fact it'll only add more pressure. Because every piece is a risk, each time I make art I am putting myself out there, letting people into my brain, and if they don't like it, then I must not be any good, and I should stop now.
Which is why I don't try to sell my art. But that's silly.
Everyone doesn't have to like your art for it to be worthwhile. And as long as I learned something, or enjoyed making it, or like the result, then it is "good", and I should keep doing it.
And you should too. When did we decide that all that mattered was results, measured solely in other people's opinions and willingness to spend money? What messed up cultural idea made us think that was how we should measure the "value" of our art, and of ourselves?
I refuse to play that game anymore. I will create what I want to create, and I will try to sell it. And maybe someone will like it too, and buy some. And maybe they won't. But how can I know unless I try?
Thursday, November 5, 2009
Artists too
You know how if I was paranoid, I'd think that someone is watching me? Otherwise, this is yet another sign that I'm not alone. Today's QC is sort of the description of my whole life. And this why I don't have job.
So I'm off to paint, so I can roughly pretend I've been doing something with my life.
So I'm off to paint, so I can roughly pretend I've been doing something with my life.
Owl City - Tidal Wave
Sometimes it worries me. Really, itunes, you shouldn't know me this well. Someone somewhere is watching me, and sending me the perfect album for my current state of mind. And this is it. Seriously, I highly recommend getting this. Even if they do use Pachabel's Canon in D aka the damn 4 chords you can't escape. Alot. Fine, it's not the most brilliant pop music ever (and the fact that itunes says its electronica is more or less a huge lie. using a synth does not autmatically make it electronic). But its highly enjoyable. And how can you go wrong with lyrics like these?
I wish I could cross my arms, and cross your mind
Cause I believe you'd unfold your paper heart and wear it on your sleeve
All my life I wish I broke mirrors, instead of promises
Cause all I see, is a shattered conscience staring right back at me
I wish I had covered all my tracks completely cause I'm so afraid
Is that the light at the far end of the tunnel or just the train?
Lift your arms only heaven knows, where the danger grows
And it's safe to say there's a bright light up ahead and help is on the way
(Help is on the way, Help is on the way, Help is on the way...)
Help is on the way
I forget the last time I felt brave, I just recall insecurity
Cause it came down like a tidal wave, and sorrow swept over me
Depression, please cut to the chase and cut a long story short
Oh please be done. How much longer can this drama afford to run?
Fate looks sharp, severs all my ties and breaks whatever doesn't bend
But sadly then, all my heavy hopes just pull me back down again
(Back down again, back down again, back down again...)
I forget the last time I felt brave, I just recall insecurity
Cause it came down like a tidal wave, and sorrow swept over me
Then I was given grace and love, I was blind but now I can see
Cause I found a new hope from above, and courage swept over me
It hurts just to wake up, whenever you're wearing thin
Alone on the outside, so tired of looking in
The end is uncertain and I've never been so afraid
But I don't need a telescope to see that there's hope
And that makes me feel brave
Also, the new DJ Hero game. I saw the ad today for the first time. And I am saddened by the whole concept. It tells you what to do and when to do it? Yes, I understand that thats how Guitar Hero works, but when you play an instrument, you usually play the song as its written, at least at the beginning. If I wanted to play the song the way they wrote it, I'd hit play in itunes and walk away. Or if I wanted to play a straight-up remix, I'd do that. Yes, I understand this is not the point. But I find the whole idea of a DJ game where my goal is to follow instructions somewhat offensive. As far as I'm concerned, the whole idea of DJing is to respond to the crowd and get them to respond to you. I reaslize the game has no way to simulate that. Do you know what I could do with that $200? Much less the $200 for the system I'd need? I could practically buy Live 8! Or a really sweet mixer. Or speakers. And thats just DJ equipment. $400 is a hell of a lot of art supplies. Or even fire toys. And those are expensive.
Anyway: Owl City = Good. DJ Hero < Good. Crazy friends ? Good
I wish I could cross my arms, and cross your mind
Cause I believe you'd unfold your paper heart and wear it on your sleeve
All my life I wish I broke mirrors, instead of promises
Cause all I see, is a shattered conscience staring right back at me
I wish I had covered all my tracks completely cause I'm so afraid
Is that the light at the far end of the tunnel or just the train?
Lift your arms only heaven knows, where the danger grows
And it's safe to say there's a bright light up ahead and help is on the way
(Help is on the way, Help is on the way, Help is on the way...)
Help is on the way
I forget the last time I felt brave, I just recall insecurity
Cause it came down like a tidal wave, and sorrow swept over me
Depression, please cut to the chase and cut a long story short
Oh please be done. How much longer can this drama afford to run?
Fate looks sharp, severs all my ties and breaks whatever doesn't bend
But sadly then, all my heavy hopes just pull me back down again
(Back down again, back down again, back down again...)
I forget the last time I felt brave, I just recall insecurity
Cause it came down like a tidal wave, and sorrow swept over me
Then I was given grace and love, I was blind but now I can see
Cause I found a new hope from above, and courage swept over me
It hurts just to wake up, whenever you're wearing thin
Alone on the outside, so tired of looking in
The end is uncertain and I've never been so afraid
But I don't need a telescope to see that there's hope
And that makes me feel brave
Also, the new DJ Hero game. I saw the ad today for the first time. And I am saddened by the whole concept. It tells you what to do and when to do it? Yes, I understand that thats how Guitar Hero works, but when you play an instrument, you usually play the song as its written, at least at the beginning. If I wanted to play the song the way they wrote it, I'd hit play in itunes and walk away. Or if I wanted to play a straight-up remix, I'd do that. Yes, I understand this is not the point. But I find the whole idea of a DJ game where my goal is to follow instructions somewhat offensive. As far as I'm concerned, the whole idea of DJing is to respond to the crowd and get them to respond to you. I reaslize the game has no way to simulate that. Do you know what I could do with that $200? Much less the $200 for the system I'd need? I could practically buy Live 8! Or a really sweet mixer. Or speakers. And thats just DJ equipment. $400 is a hell of a lot of art supplies. Or even fire toys. And those are expensive.
Anyway: Owl City = Good. DJ Hero < Good. Crazy friends ? Good
Monday, November 2, 2009
I think you think I am leaving,
That it is I who has parted ways-
But I am still standing here.
And if you walk away,
I am not going to walk behind you.
I will not follow you mindlessly,
But I will walk with you if you want me to.
Or I will wait here,
Until there is a reason to walk,
An invitation to share a path
Or maybe just a desire to move.
I may go in the same direction as you,
Or perhaps a different one.
Even if I walk the same path,
I will not follow you down it.
I have offered to walk with you,
And I am offering again
But when I try I find that that I follow you...
All I want is to walk side by side.
If you are only looking for someone to follow you
She isn't me
But I am still standing here.
That it is I who has parted ways-
But I am still standing here.
And if you walk away,
I am not going to walk behind you.
I will not follow you mindlessly,
But I will walk with you if you want me to.
Or I will wait here,
Until there is a reason to walk,
An invitation to share a path
Or maybe just a desire to move.
I may go in the same direction as you,
Or perhaps a different one.
Even if I walk the same path,
I will not follow you down it.
I have offered to walk with you,
And I am offering again
But when I try I find that that I follow you...
All I want is to walk side by side.
If you are only looking for someone to follow you
She isn't me
But I am still standing here.
Sunday, November 1, 2009
Halloween and other insanity
It has been a truly crazy weekend.
Friday was mostly spent trying to cope with Drama that came up out of nowhere and sucker-punched me. After hours of trying to respond like a rational person, I finally sent the people who had sprung the drama (which bore no relation to my life or even people I am friends with, and came with ultimatums- do this or we will not be friends with you, but all these other people we'll stay friends with no matter what because they're important), an email saying that I couldn't hear from them for a while if they couldn't treat me like our relationships and my feelings matter. And after 6 hours of that, I spent about 3 cranking out a highly mediocre and shoddily made Rouge costume. And one of the friends who instigated the drama replied to say how sorry she was to have upset me. So she's now off the shit list.
Saturday- Went into the city with my friends (quite a few people correctly identified all of us, even Jove who was Sebastian Shaw - an excellent costume for a highly unknown character). There was much carousing and marching through the rain in the parade, which was amazing. We rejoined our dry and lame friends at the bar, which was super crowded, and decided to relocate. Then we were delayed because my epileptic friend had too much to drink and had a seizure- so we waited for an hour for the ambulance. Then tried another chiller bar for about an hour or so, before heading back to Jove's to watch Maniac Nurses Find Ecstasy an awful "horror" movie dub we desperately hoped would become porn but never did. Truly, an hour and 15 minutes of my life I can never have back. Crashed on the bean-bag couch - which is amazingly comfortable- for the not-most-comfy night of sleep ever between Friedman and George because Allie stole my spot in the bed.
Sunday, today, we had a lazy day -donuts, then hours of youtube clips and a seriously detour and traffic ridden trip back to New Ro, followed by dinner at Epstien's, which I thought was overpriced and not very good. But still conversation was fun, and it was a really good halloween once the I decided to tell the drama to fuck off. Unfortunately, this evening I returned home to an email - completely not about me, but rather about how all women have screwed men emotionally, and how that relate's to second drama-inducer's relationship with another girl who I don't care about. Intro'd with: "This is what I've been working on, and why I've been treating you and everyone with neglect. " Nothing else to me. I'm really sorry I even read it, that alone should have been enough to let me know it was not an email that would in any way consider my emotions or address anything I had said to him. So fuck him. I am not responding. As I said, I will not communicate until he indicates that he cares about me even a tiny bit. And now, after a lovely Halloween, I am depressed and pissed off. Again. So, bed is my next plan. Sleep. Yes please. God, I'm tired.
Friday was mostly spent trying to cope with Drama that came up out of nowhere and sucker-punched me. After hours of trying to respond like a rational person, I finally sent the people who had sprung the drama (which bore no relation to my life or even people I am friends with, and came with ultimatums- do this or we will not be friends with you, but all these other people we'll stay friends with no matter what because they're important), an email saying that I couldn't hear from them for a while if they couldn't treat me like our relationships and my feelings matter. And after 6 hours of that, I spent about 3 cranking out a highly mediocre and shoddily made Rouge costume. And one of the friends who instigated the drama replied to say how sorry she was to have upset me. So she's now off the shit list.
Saturday- Went into the city with my friends (quite a few people correctly identified all of us, even Jove who was Sebastian Shaw - an excellent costume for a highly unknown character). There was much carousing and marching through the rain in the parade, which was amazing. We rejoined our dry and lame friends at the bar, which was super crowded, and decided to relocate. Then we were delayed because my epileptic friend had too much to drink and had a seizure- so we waited for an hour for the ambulance. Then tried another chiller bar for about an hour or so, before heading back to Jove's to watch Maniac Nurses Find Ecstasy an awful "horror" movie dub we desperately hoped would become porn but never did. Truly, an hour and 15 minutes of my life I can never have back. Crashed on the bean-bag couch - which is amazingly comfortable- for the not-most-comfy night of sleep ever between Friedman and George because Allie stole my spot in the bed.
Sunday, today, we had a lazy day -donuts, then hours of youtube clips and a seriously detour and traffic ridden trip back to New Ro, followed by dinner at Epstien's, which I thought was overpriced and not very good. But still conversation was fun, and it was a really good halloween once the I decided to tell the drama to fuck off. Unfortunately, this evening I returned home to an email - completely not about me, but rather about how all women have screwed men emotionally, and how that relate's to second drama-inducer's relationship with another girl who I don't care about. Intro'd with: "This is what I've been working on, and why I've been treating you and everyone with neglect. " Nothing else to me. I'm really sorry I even read it, that alone should have been enough to let me know it was not an email that would in any way consider my emotions or address anything I had said to him. So fuck him. I am not responding. As I said, I will not communicate until he indicates that he cares about me even a tiny bit. And now, after a lovely Halloween, I am depressed and pissed off. Again. So, bed is my next plan. Sleep. Yes please. God, I'm tired.
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