I'm looking for a new apartment again. I don't think I can handle living in my current place anymore.
I'm cruising through craigslist looking for new places and realizing how little interest I have in weird roommate situations and room sharing and splitting utilities and all that nonsense.
I'm ready to GROW UP.
Be in a place of my own, or with my partner.
But no roommates. No bullshit.
Friday, March 19, 2010
nightmares
I have sets of recurring nightmares, places that I keep coming back to even though the people change, or weird in between states that are like sleep but aren't sleep.
Sometimes my dreams take place around me while I'm laying in bed. Like I'm a detective but my bed is in the precinct and I conduct all of my business from it. Things like that.
My roommate is the single most social person I have ever met in my life. She can not go an hour sitting by herself being quiet. I'm the complete opposite of that. She calls me a "loner." I have gone out with her a few times but it is always a strange situation. She creates drama for herself and I don't have the stomach for that kind of thing. She likes to create drama around me as well. For instance, she is trying to make me into a "lesbian." I am dating a man and it seems like that offends her. I love my boyfriend more than I ever knew possible and we have an amazing partnership together.
Today he is out of town, and I had planned on meeting some friends at the local gay watering hole to grab drinks and hang out. She keeps trying to get me to pick up girls with her. She said tonight I could be a lesbian. I was like, look tonight just like all other night's I'm Mike's girlfriend. She keeps insisting that I come out and pick up chicks and it leaves me a foul taste in my mouth.
So, I declined to go with her.
She was upset, I guess. I don't really care, I should be able to make my own decisions. We're not very close friends. Whenever she gets drunk she always says "I don't even know you."
So I just lay in bed watching The L Word and hung out with the cats. Ironically a much more "les" thing to do!
To tie this all back to the dream (pardon my rambling - I hardly ever blog any more and I don't have a good structure that I'm used to), I'm laying in my bed right now listening through uninsulated walls to a party going on outside my room.
There is music and pot smoke and loud nonsensical conversations pouring in through the two inch gap under my door.
She talks about me, when she's drunk.
It's like I'm just sitting out there in the middle of the party, under my covers in bed.
I am living my own nightmare.
Sometimes my dreams take place around me while I'm laying in bed. Like I'm a detective but my bed is in the precinct and I conduct all of my business from it. Things like that.
My roommate is the single most social person I have ever met in my life. She can not go an hour sitting by herself being quiet. I'm the complete opposite of that. She calls me a "loner." I have gone out with her a few times but it is always a strange situation. She creates drama for herself and I don't have the stomach for that kind of thing. She likes to create drama around me as well. For instance, she is trying to make me into a "lesbian." I am dating a man and it seems like that offends her. I love my boyfriend more than I ever knew possible and we have an amazing partnership together.
Today he is out of town, and I had planned on meeting some friends at the local gay watering hole to grab drinks and hang out. She keeps trying to get me to pick up girls with her. She said tonight I could be a lesbian. I was like, look tonight just like all other night's I'm Mike's girlfriend. She keeps insisting that I come out and pick up chicks and it leaves me a foul taste in my mouth.
So, I declined to go with her.
She was upset, I guess. I don't really care, I should be able to make my own decisions. We're not very close friends. Whenever she gets drunk she always says "I don't even know you."
So I just lay in bed watching The L Word and hung out with the cats. Ironically a much more "les" thing to do!
To tie this all back to the dream (pardon my rambling - I hardly ever blog any more and I don't have a good structure that I'm used to), I'm laying in my bed right now listening through uninsulated walls to a party going on outside my room.
There is music and pot smoke and loud nonsensical conversations pouring in through the two inch gap under my door.
She talks about me, when she's drunk.
It's like I'm just sitting out there in the middle of the party, under my covers in bed.
I am living my own nightmare.
Thursday, January 21, 2010
GWAR on ice.
Looking backwards at abject failure.
Why is that always how I feel when I sit down to write here?
These past six years have been really hard on me, and now I'm hardened. I have a spectacular sense of perspective now, there is nothing left to happen that hasn't anymore.
The very worst thing I could have imagined has happened, and passed. I did survive and I did make the right choice.
There are of course, people in the wake of this.
All my disasters are littered with good people who at one point loved me or thought they did.
New boyfriend, whom I worship. I can see all the points that we don't line up and I cherish them. It's funny because I find myself in this constant back and forth, wanting to want to marry this man, just to prove something. You all did it and I can do it to. But I don't think I do. Want to marry him. Really. I think this is the first relationship that I can appreciate for what it is. I do take him seriously and I can't wait to see what happens between us. I am so excited for all the plans we have. I love him so much, that just holding his hand is pure joy...
I wake up in the middle of the night and look over at him and cannot imagine anything else.
None of the usual revulsion that I find normally accompanies "love."
Gross, this is getting gross. Ok.
I have a lot of joy in my life right now, actually. I HAVE passed through the storm.
Why is that always how I feel when I sit down to write here?
These past six years have been really hard on me, and now I'm hardened. I have a spectacular sense of perspective now, there is nothing left to happen that hasn't anymore.
The very worst thing I could have imagined has happened, and passed. I did survive and I did make the right choice.
There are of course, people in the wake of this.
All my disasters are littered with good people who at one point loved me or thought they did.
New boyfriend, whom I worship. I can see all the points that we don't line up and I cherish them. It's funny because I find myself in this constant back and forth, wanting to want to marry this man, just to prove something. You all did it and I can do it to. But I don't think I do. Want to marry him. Really. I think this is the first relationship that I can appreciate for what it is. I do take him seriously and I can't wait to see what happens between us. I am so excited for all the plans we have. I love him so much, that just holding his hand is pure joy...
I wake up in the middle of the night and look over at him and cannot imagine anything else.
None of the usual revulsion that I find normally accompanies "love."
Gross, this is getting gross. Ok.
I have a lot of joy in my life right now, actually. I HAVE passed through the storm.
Saturday, August 1, 2009
fucked.
I have snared the unicorn, finally and am overwhelmed by it's delicate beauty. Am I truly the one to soil this great beast? Has the rainbow shattered and fallen down in glinting pieces around me, my eyes too intent on the gleaming white coat to see them land?
I have always brought desctruction down upon my prey but I am hesitant this time. I am getting tired and feel older than ever, wearing grey hairs and battle scars like tick marks marking time's lonely passage. I am trudging slowly through this knee deep sludge of expectation and exceptions, waiting ever patiently for the end to finally come down in sweet relief.
But it never comes, it is always just bad enough but never the worst.
I have lived on like this for years, and I'm wondering now if I should sacrifice his purity to create a fresh start for myself. Should I give nothing up? Should I continue letting it all leak out in charming anecdotes, funny quips about ugly things, hints at the cool churning reality underneath?
The combination of your personaliy, you crazy fucked up girl, and his calm innocence may be the best combination I could have ever asked for. You two, in stark dichotomy, may save me. Or at least, I will have something interesting to write about up to the very end.
I have always brought desctruction down upon my prey but I am hesitant this time. I am getting tired and feel older than ever, wearing grey hairs and battle scars like tick marks marking time's lonely passage. I am trudging slowly through this knee deep sludge of expectation and exceptions, waiting ever patiently for the end to finally come down in sweet relief.
But it never comes, it is always just bad enough but never the worst.
I have lived on like this for years, and I'm wondering now if I should sacrifice his purity to create a fresh start for myself. Should I give nothing up? Should I continue letting it all leak out in charming anecdotes, funny quips about ugly things, hints at the cool churning reality underneath?
The combination of your personaliy, you crazy fucked up girl, and his calm innocence may be the best combination I could have ever asked for. You two, in stark dichotomy, may save me. Or at least, I will have something interesting to write about up to the very end.
