write it cut it paste it save it load it check it quick rewrite it

Leaving for NYC tomorrow morning… getting really excited. My dad just called and it turns out he scored us SWEET seats to “Boeing Boeing” (Bradley Witford – the guy from West Wing who’s married to to Jane Kazmarak, the mom on Malcolm in the Middle, and Christine Baranski) and “Young Frankenstien” (with Roger Bart, Sutton Foster, and MEGAN MULLALLY -THATS KAREN WALKER TO YOU, BITCHES!) and I’m really excited. Tomorrow night, after I drop off my stuff at my new apartment, I’m meeting up with Matt and Stef (!) for dinner and some catch up time.

I’ve been cleaning like a crazy person today and I question whether I’m going to be done in time. I really shouldn’t be taking the time to write this anyway, but I needed a break. I’m having serious fatigue for some reason and occasionally I feel faint. I don’t know if I’m actually sick, or just tired. I’ve had a few late nights recently, and getting to sleep has been harder due to my jet lag, which has yet to switch over to the east coast time yet.

Back to tidying the house. Sigh. More exciting things to come, I’m sure.

Conclusion: It wasn’t me, it was you. Really.

I’ve always questioned the “I was drunk” defense. At points in my life, I’ve probably used it, and sure, it lowers inhibitions. But while I was “making good choices” last night, I recall a completely lucid moment where I knew that I was capable of making a conscious decision. It was an out of body experience; I could see myself thinking and making decisions. There was no “I was drunk.” That was just not an option at that point. I question if it ever has been, or ever will be again.

Regardless of decisions made, last night was fun. I went to H’s for a night of Wii and cards with a bunch of dudes. Epic sausagefest – which anyone who knows me knows is my favorite – into the wee hours. Pebbles, the most adorable puppy EVER, and I were the only bitches in the house. Word.

After taking the bus home around 6am this morning and crawling back into bed after a bacon, egg and cheese from my favorite beacon hill coffee shop, I passed out until around 1, but was interrupted every few hours by a friendly phone calls; I would literally wake up to answer, talk, and then pass back out. After finally getting out of bed around 2, I got busy and worked more on packing. I think I’ve overpacked, but whatever. I always overpack, and I’m over it. Tomorrow, I’m sweeping, swiffering, dishes, final cleaning, etc. Then I’m going to a birthday party with H. Hopefully not staying too late… I have a train to catch the next morning… UGH.

I’m fascinated by my mind’s ability to adapt lately. I don’t know if it’s because of the end of a relationship or just that I’m in an extremely transitional point in my life that my mind is changing and my emotions react different than I expect. I’m not sure what I was trying to explain, but that’s what came out I guess.

I kissed a girl and I liked it.

I forgot to mention I saw “Priceless,” with Audrey Tautou the other day. It was a sweet comedy (“I hate chick flicks,” my companion mentioned) but nothing extraordinary. It made me think I could pull off golddigging though, which I thought was a seriously bad influence. I also prayed that Audrey wouldn’t die from not eating, because I was pretty sure I could see every bone in her body; my forearms were bigger than her calves.

Back in Boston. The flight was long and grueling, but luckily for the first half I was sitting next to an Oregon State student who was really nice and shared the same hate for the amount of leg room united provides if you are not in “economy plus” (literally about 8″.) Crossing my legs on an airplane is a trying task.

Lesley called me while I was picking up my bags at baggage claim. I was shocked to hear from her, considering I thought she might never come back from France. We had a good chat and arranged to have another “catchup” chat because we haven’t really spoken much over the past year, and good lord we are excellent at gossiping. Our conversation was no more than 20 minutes long, but I learned and shared more than I probably ‘ought to…

I arrived back in my apartment a bit after midnight. My flight got in early around 11:45, and on the cab ride home I seriously considered calling the chinese food place next door and picking it up upon arrival. I settled for an episode of law and order and some cream cheese and wheat thins. I felt ill (I hadn’t eaten for about 9 hours) and I wanted to die. So I crawled into bed and watched “Smokin Aces” which wasn’t nearly as bad as I thought it would be.

Woke up today, started doing laundry, packing, and cleaning. For a place that is “mine,” I really don’t feel at home right now. Not sure why. Everything is covered in a fine layer of dust and although everything in the house is mine, it feels like something has changed since I’ve returned to it. The air felt stale, like there was no circulation (I left a back window open to avoid this.) But I’m glad I didn’t attempt to clean anything before I left. That would have just been… bad.

Back to work. Much to do, and only 4 days to really do it in. Meeting Mattaboo at Shabu Shabu tonight and I am psyched… I love that shit for some reason even though I’m paying to cook my own food. Perhaps it’s just the fabulous company I seem to do it in…

Out on the road on the way to Boston, I fell in love.

I leave to go back to Boston tomorrow, and I honestly have mixed feelings about it. There’s something about Oregon that “restores my manufacturer settings” (Peters). But there’s something about Boston that makes me feel alive… it makes me feel like I can become something. In Oregon, I feel like I’m just wasting time until the next thing, looking for guidance and rehab in a place I used to call home. My home these days is a black, 2×4 zippered rollerboard suitcase. I drag my personal belongings from airport to airport, praying they don’t get lost in the seat-back-pocket of my last flight.

I love Oregon. The fresh air. The overcast mornings that either give way to extreme sunshine or extreme rainfall. The smell of burning spit on a hand-rolled cigarette. The authentic wearing of crocs, because you’re either going out to garden or your plan on kayaking to work. Unpretentious ducks that will let you hand feed them, and squirrels that don’t have more pictures of themselves than I do, because tourists here realize taking a picture of a squirrel is a waste of space on your hard drive. The blisters on my feet from wearing flip flops EVERY DAY, even in the rain. The trees that were not intentionally planted in the last 50 years. The people I deliberately avoid, and the locations I avoid just as much as to not see the aforementioned. This place holds so much of my past, it’s difficult to let go. I question how many more times I can come back here just to “rehab.” I didn’t really have a choice about coming home this time, on my own accord. I took care of the things I needed to take care of, and most of all, I took care of myself, which I’ve needed to do recently. I suppose I’ve lost track of where my heart was, and how it can still be strong. I needed to re-establish my identity without Boston, without the people that define who I was in Boston; Going back, I feel like I’ll be someone else. I found little bits inside myself that I didn’t realize were still there, and still keeping time with my own pulse. I think it took more than my therapist from high school to tell me that (thank you, Carol), but it took a second to set the issue aside and breathe in a new space, a new frame of mind. None of this probably makes sense, but I lost a lot of myself recently. I hit a low I’ve never seen in myself and it scared me a lot. It scared the friends who knew about it (count: 2) and they kept me sane until I was able to come home to collect. It’s like last summer where I took a break from New York to remind myself that I was only human. I am only human, and I intend to STAY HUMAN (thanks Franti/Mahri). I guess being home really showed me I shouldn’t be afraid to go back out in the world and put myself out there. My heart might not be the same as it used to be, but now I know, more than ever, what I need to look for in friends, partners, and lovers. I know what I want, I know what I need… I know what I’m going to be looking for, finally.

And next year, that will probably change again.

I have a lot to look forward to in Boston. I have such good friends to go back to. I have a life I get to rebuild and develop as I want: independent and carefree. I’m ready to live the life I’ve dreamed of living at the time in my life when things are easiest (trust me, they should be.) I can’t wait to feel the wind down my alleyway. I can’t wait to walk through the common at my own leisure. Goddamnit, I want to see tourists take pictures of squirrels again. I can’t wait to take what I have absorbed in Oregon back to Boston, where it can be put in practice, where I can prove how strong I am. It’s not really the strength or my newfound courage that motivates me anymore – it’s not the need or desire to be recognized for it either. What motivates me is that I have so much left to have, and so little time. Approximately 1/4th of my life has past, and I’d hate to look back on it and remember how sad I was.

This trip back to the East is flying against the wind. It takes longer going West to East, because coming from the East, you have a strong tail wind. But I’ve packed my clothes, my Wii, my courage, hope, strength, and drive. I’m wearing my heart on my sleeve again, and I’ve realized I still have so much left to offer.

“Anyone can give up, it’s the easiest thing in the world to do. But to hold it together when everyone else would understand if you fell apart, that’s true strength.”

I bid you adieu as I make another journey across this gigantic nation. I thank those in my homeland for making this trip as important as it has been, and I thank those who I am going to be returning to, accepting the new me with open arms. I thank those in advance that I am going to meet next week upon my journey to New York City, where I will spend the summer peeling off a new layer of the onion that is my psyche; by the end of August (and the marking of a VERY IMPORTANT BIRTHDAY) I should have enough for a pretty dope stir fry, or at least some onion rings.

Peters, Alex. Emo.. Alex_f_Word. Eugene, Oregon. 2008.

http://alex-f-word.livejournal.com

Favorite person: My Mommy.

Favorite food: POTATOES. omg there is no way to make potatoes bad. i think Matt once said that if you put a dead baby on a potato, it would be gross, and i agree. but i still think there is no bad way to COOK a potato, ALRIGHT?

Quirks about you: I am terrible with driving directions. Sometimes I just want to get in a fist fight to know how it feels. I like sleeping with the windows open. When I finish a Sudoku, I feel INCREDIBLY accomplished.

How would the person who loves you most decribe you, in ten words or less? driven. smart. gifted. caring. emotional. intuitive. eccentric. hilarious.

Any regrets in life? a few, but i wouldnt be who i am without them. i make decisions really quickly and i have a tendency to be a bit dramatic. i regret those qualities.

Favorite charity/cause: Not For Sale Campaign. a lot of people dont know this, but ive been passionate about human trafficking for awhile.

Favorite blog recently: Alex’s. I wish he’d write more. Also, see this post

Something you can’t get enough of: coke zero. ungghhh

What job would you pay not to have? someone that deals with scraping mold. or first or second grade teacher. sweet jesus that shit is hard.

Guilty pleasure: Ding Dongs

If you had to spend $1000 on yourself, how would you spend it? new wardrobe. im slowly but surely changing my style, but its difficult to replace it in big chunks. deng i would get some more sweet levis and a-lifes and solid colored vnecks. Ah, the good life.

Favorite thing about your house: Oregon Houses: Mom’s balcony overlooking the park and the living room windows and the osprey that lives on the roof. Dad’s basement and limitless supply of my favorite foods that i shouldnt eat. Boston: my bed. and the fact i live by myself and dont have to share HEHEHEHHE

Least favorite thing about your house: Oregon Houses: Mom and Dad’s – I DONT ACTUALLY LIVE HERE: none of my personal belongings are here and i live out of a suitcase. Boston: windows. I wish i had huge windows and there wasnt so much dust. i feel like i non-stop dust sometimes.

One thing you’re good at: typing. im almost at 100 wpm. take that mavis beacon.

If you could change something about your circumstances, what would it be? less medical crap that isn’t really treatable.

Who would you like to meet someday? David Cross please be my second daddy.

What makes you feel sexy? feeling desired

Who is your real-life hero? madre, yo. she’s a tough lady.

What is the hardest part of your job? I mean, not having one, so not making any money? or doing a job that doesnt pay, so still not making money? but if you consider being a student a job, the stress that comes with studying and trying to do well.

When are you most relaxed? in a cold room, under the covers, in bed.

What stresses you out? HAH. well for starters, studying. feeling unprepared. spontaneity.

What can you not live without? hair thingies. i would die if i couldnt put my hair in a ponytail. id shave it off.

Do you agree or disagree with the recent article that stated blog authors are narcissists? Aren’t we all? I would say we’re just as much attention-seekers as narcissists. we want people to respond to what we write so we put it in a public place to be seen… not to necessarily hear/see our own voice.

Why do you blog? communication feels good to me. rambling/ranting on the phone for long periods of time makes me anxious, so this is a good outlet.

Favorite Music Videos: Chapter 1

In no particular order…

Weezer’s “Pork and Beans”

Not only is Weezer going back to the sound that made them kickass in the first place, but this video is brilliant, utilizing v-video that is still in everyone’s minds. The only thing missing is a Rick Roll.

The Grouch’s “Artsy”

In a surprisingly similar vain, The Grouch’s “Artsy” pulls from contemporary music video and commercials to make a pretty interesting video. I feel like Talib Kweli or Swiss Beatz or Lupe Fiasco already did something making fun of the HP commercials (how those three are in a group, I don’t know) but somebody did. I still like this video.

We Are Scientists’ “After Hours”

Not only do I love We Are Scientists more after this video, but I’ve always loved Akiva Schaffer (YES, of AKIVA, JORMA AND ANDY OF LONELY ISLAND!!!) This video is simple, the budget probably went to hiring the actress (who is on 30 Rock or something? What’s with 30 Rock kids getting cast in music videos lately?) and paying the dog’s SAG fees or something.

Flight of the Conchords’ “Ladies of the World”

If I have to explain why this is great, you either have absolutely no idea who I am or are as boring as a brick. Fo seriously.

Foo Fighters’ “Pretender”

Dave Grohl gives me a boner and the simplicity of the idea and killer effects and imagery is like a sweet sweet orgasm for the eyes. Seriously, somebody was like “Here: run around with this steady cam for like four minutes. By the way, wear a poncho.” (better res is available on youtubes, just not embedded)

Girls Aloud’s “Don’t Speak French”

Guilty pleasure. I’m sorry. Whoever picked these girls out of an audition line was a genius. The song sucks, the idea sucks, but dear God, where did these creatures come from? Way to put out there the only thing these girls have got goin for them… Bravo hair/makeup/costume. (P.S. I’m sorry I made you watch that.)

Herman Dunes’ “1-2-3-Apple-Tree”

There’s just something about well done contemporary puppetry that really makes my day. And I dig the song. It just makes me feel good. I think.

Tokyo Police Clubs’ “Tesselate”

My boy Miguel came up with the concept and co-directed it (fo seriously) and I love it. I think it’s an adorable concept, and kind of takes me back to that Disney World thing, Body Worlds or whatever they’ve got, where you go through that journey of the body to help this guy out and there’s all these other guys living inside this guy trying to help him get through the day. (I’m pretty sure it has to do with reproduction too, but I probably blocked that from my 9 year-old memory.) This, however, has nothing to do with reproduction, and is probably cooler.

I’m sure I have tons of more videos to say I love, but these were the ones I found easily. I hope you like them too, and maybe see something you haven’t seen yet. There’s a lot of crap out there, but luckily there’s some select groups of artists floating around…

Revelation #5877

It had occurred to me that there has never been a point in my life where I’ve truly desired sex. (*gasps from audience*) It is true. Quite possibly sad, but true, and it wouldn’t matter to me anyway if it was sad. What I’ve discovered lately, is that I purely desire intimate connection, and that the physical act of sex has never been what I thought I wanted. Don’t get me wrong, sex isn’t a “beautiful wonderful thing” or whatever, and unique to all of it’s… users, and I completely understand that. I just am finally aware of what (at this juncture) is the most important part of that act, and by no means is it physical.

Sex is an incredibly private thing to me. I’m not really one to kiss and tell much anymore (trust me, you think you know, but you have NO idea) and I am finding those private moments are incredibly more valuable that way. I think I enjoy looking back on an intimate moment knowing that only I and (hopefully) just the other person know about it.

Even with the conclusion of my last (and very long) relationship, I don’t feel the need for sex. I don’t miss it. I don’t feel like it’s incredibly necessary to my basic survival or enjoyment or life. I do, however, miss the intimate connection. It’s not about the act itself, its about the closeness, trust, and connection.

I saw a play tonight that kind of made me think of these things.

I guess it’s just knowing that you’re loved through physical closeness. It’s intuitive intimacy. I long for those moments where you’re just held by someone. Being able to curl up in someone’s arm and nuzzle into their neck. Intertwine fingers and legs and cold feet. It’s feeling someone’s breath on your skin and not minding it in the slightest. I guess the physical connection I’m looking for in my next relationship is more about FEELING closeness, just as much mentally as physically. In reflection, I think that’s where my balance has been off in the past, and I know that in the future I need to slow myself down and work at a pace where I’m not catering to someone else. From now on, I need intimacy to be returned, not just taken from me as I hold it out willingly, hoping for something in return.

Simply Orange.

Few updates:

Back from my trip to visit dear Alex. I think it’s what I needed to regain a little bit of sanity. He always seems to know what I’m thinking, even if I’m not thinking it yet. That doesn’t make much sense, but it does. Nevermind. It was great to see him (and Samo, and Anna, and Bau) and just kick it and relax. For the weekend, I would like to thank Barry, BBQ in a bag, and Brails for their awesome breakfast (and authentic Korean cuisine?)

I am addicted to my Wii. I bought “Bully” today and can’t stop playing it. It’s like Grand Theft Auto for me but less hookers and blood. Just kicking the crap out of mean kids. It’s really fun. According to the stats, I’m only 4.07% into the game, so it should be awhile. I’m also doing really well with my Mario Kart; I am much better at the wheel now.

Saw Indiana Jones 4. It is either the best or the worst thing that has ever happened to the franchise. I vote the latter, and it will only go downhill from there. Sorry, Shia, but you’re not going to win this one over with your charming asshole demeanor and killer Jewish good looks. I love you, but you can’t make this work.

Last day in hometown today. Got a few important things done while I was home, ready to go back to P-town with Momma and then back to Beantown on Wednesday… I’m ready to have a going away party, clean my apartment and pack for New York. It’s going to be a sick summer, as I’ve discovered a few more wonderful things, like that my friend Pat from LA is moving there as well, and my friend Ben from my internship last summer is working at my new internship.

It rained today. I didn’t bring proper clothes for this vacation.

Hometown Day Two: Wake up. It’s raining.

Woke up to rain. Odd. It’s been in the 80s and 90s the past few days. Tried to watch “Grindhouse” this morning. Got through about 15 minutes, in which Rose McGowan pole danced (sort of?) somebody’s face melted a la the Nazis in Indiana Jones, Fergie pretended she knew something about cars, and somebody got their balls cut off. And, oh my God, all of the women had huge tits and tiny waists. Imagine that. What a perfect world Robert Rodriguez lives in.

I figured I couldn’t handle three hours of it. Considering part two was directed by Quentin Tarentino, I was probably going to vomit in my mouth some more, and figured my morning was better suited for other things.

Made breakfast. Wandered around the house. Mulled over last night’s gossip girl and tomorrow’s therapy session #2. Baked cookies. Worked on a friend’s graduation present (You’ll get it in July in your new Dailie, Boo.) And had a moment with… someone I really didn’t want to see. I had kind of a clairvoyent moment, where I considered that I was going to a very popular hangout place downtown, and that I might just see someone I REALLY didn’t want to see. I considered my options if I ran into a person like this, and decided that the project could wait for another day if I had to enact an escape route. Upon arrival, I was the only one there. I worked for about three hours, and about halfway through hour 2, in walked a nemesis, one from high school I really never wanted to see again, and at one point considered beating the shit out of. (The only reason I didn’t is because she outweighed me by about 20lbs with her beer gut. I figured I could hate from afar and avoid confrontation.) However, she walked in, looking slimmer and more composed, and I still wanted to beat the crap out of her. Luckily, I was almost done with my project, so I finished, paid, and left. But not without workin it as I walked out the door. I’m sure as soon as I left she had a fit with her friend that I was there and “What the hell” was I doing back in town. It’s been three years, but I still want to punch her in her fat little face.

That’s a lot of rage in one girl. Trust me, it’s not something you want to unleash.

So I rolled home about 3pm. My brother joined soon after and we were interrupted by a phone call from my Dad. He told my brother to get a box out of his closet and bring it to me. Inside were my brand new Wii controllers and their chargers. We began charging for the preparations for the night.

After a lovely dinner and American Idol viewing session with lil Bro, all in the world was right, the Wii console arrived from heaven, and we promptly began to damage our joints by bowling (arms), boxing (arms. ow.), golf (back), tennis (arms), baseball (elbows). It was a hoot, and I got some sweet pics of my Dad about to punch the TV with his bowling arms to prove it. He got really into the boxing too. It was kind of pathetic, but it shows where I got my competitive streak from. We had a really great time and ended the night with a rousing game of Mario Kart (Father says “Marry-oh”, Bro and I say “Mar-ree-oh” – guess who grew up on the East Coast and who didn’t) and decided it was time to throw in the towel for the night. Wii sports is EXHAUSTING.

Going to see Alex tomorrow. Finally. I feel like it’s been… oh it has been almost half a year since I’ve seen him. And since we’re not meeting up in Topeka any time in the next few months, I figured I needed to drop in for a visit. He always seems to remind me that I’m a normal human being, and for some reason, I subconsciously decided to be myself around him (around others, I become incredibly chatty and friendly.) I was told that I needed to spend more time with the people that are my true friends, and stop worrying about being friends with “everyone.” Alex is one of those true friends, and I’m glad that I’m able to see him before I jet off to the big city again. He gets me; I like that.

In other news, I am glad I have rediscovered popsicles and Ding Dongs, a rarity in the East (I CANT FIND THEM ANYWHERE.) I’m tempted to bring back a few boxes, and then I remember I’m 10lbs heavier than I’d like to be. I’m sticking to coke zero (YESSS) and sugar free popsicles for the time being as treats. Ding Dongs will just have to be a special hometown memory.

P.S. 58% to 42%. I always like it when my team wins.

All is full of love.

After day one of therapy (revisited), I discovered a little bit about what has been going on. I guess it moves me to look at the past and reflect on what I’ve been drawn to, and recognize that it could very well be my downfall. Emotionally, I’m a little sore. My skin is a little weak, but I guess it’s time to toughen up and look at where I’m letting people in too easily. I shouldn’t necessarily block people out, but I need to protect myself. I’m giving in to easily and letting people take advantage of my giving nature.

I’m done questioning what I’ve done wrong, and it’s time to look at what I’ve missed.

Driving home from my appointment, I noticed all of the changes that have happened since I left. A hotel where I attended a Bar Mitzvah when I was 8 and used to be where I would take the shuttle to the airport is now a TJ Maxx and a Jamba Juice. There used to be four movies available; now there is a 12 plex a few blocks away. My father has bought a plot of land waaaaaay out in the middle of nowhere that is going to be built into a gigantic house in a few years.

But in perspective, I have changed just as much as my little town; as much as I don’t recognize it, it probably doesn’t recognize me.

I am wounded and scared and tired. But I don’t think that like any other animal, I’m going to snap back in defense. I’m curious to see what my instinct is instead.