The Perils of Jungle Juice
On the 22nd, I went to a friend's costume party and there was a large bowl of "Witches' Brew." I had two large cups on an empty stomach, followed by a beer. Then I drove to the Quarter to go pick Richie up, but his phone was dead and after an hour of waiting for him, I angrily went home and locked the deadbolt, because I am vindictive. He came home via taxi (turns out we'd just missed one another and he'd been in a cab for awhile) while I was in the midst of removing my makeup. He started knocking on the door and as I walked into the living room to go unlock the door, I realized I was going to be sick. So I ran to the door, slamming my leg into a side table in the process (resulting in a really beautiful bruise), unlocked it and yelled "I'M SICK" in response to his "what the fuck is wrong with you?" He followed me into the bathroom and held my hair and stroked my shoulder and gave me water while I asked him to go away. Then he put me to bed and asked me if I wanted a PB&J. I said yes, then promptly fell asleep. He found me asleep, ate my sandwich and also went to bed. I woke up around 2am, feeling dismal and looking for my sandwich.
Fall Festivities
Jason, Lianna and I carved pumpkins and drank pumpkin beer in a non-ironic festive way. Jason carved a yin yang, Lianna carved a TV and I carved a martini glass and a bottle because I'm a drunk.
Voodoo Hoodoo
I went to Voodoo all three days. On Friday, Eddie and I biked there and saw Ani Difranco, Band of Horses and Soundgarden. All were great shows.
Saturday, I went alone and caught a bounce show, Social Distortion, Snoop Dogg (with Mystikal) and Blink 182. Blink's set kind of sucked, was full of inane dick jokes and I left halfway through, after my inner 14 year old was mostly satisfied (I really only wanted to hear "Dammit" and they didn't play it before I left). I admittedly teared up slightly during this set, despite it sucking, because it made me think of when Candace and I used to blast Enema of the State in her backyard and sit upside down on her swing and sing the lyrics to her next door neighbor (the crush of my teenage life). I biked back to Richie's, where I'd left the truck and as I was tying up my bike, two gay guys approached me and asked me if I'd give them a ride to Palmer Park. I was kind of hesitant at first, but I figured what the hell and let them in. They invited me to a party, but I politely declined.
On Sunday, I went with Richie and Matt. We saw Dr. John, then met up with Lianna at TV on the Radio (fantastic show). The boys left to go see The Meters, while Lianna and I caught the rest of TVotR, grabbed food and went to see The Clash. We wandered over to catch the end of The Meters set, met up with the boys to see The Ranconteurs. I got pretty high during the TVotR show and I started getting kind of paranoid during The Ranconteurs, but Richie and Lianna calmed me down (I'm not good at being high. I either get stupid silly or paranoid.) Richie and I went to Finn's afterward and got drinks that I almost fell asleep in, because I'd only had 4 hours of bad sleep.
Frenchman Follies
On Saturday night, post-festival, I got dressed up in voodoo doll drag and Matt and I headed down to the Marigny. We met up with friends at Mojito's, started drinking a lot. I had a brief blood sugar episode, which passed when I found a muffin. We went to The John and there was a boyfriend/girlfriend incident that culminated in the decision that everyone needed to eat, which is how we ended up at some hot sausage place on St. Claude at 3am, eating poboys and taking ridiculous and cute pictures. Then we walked over to Big Daddy's to play pool and finally ended the night at Mimi's until dawn. Richie and I ate more PB&J in bed (it's kind of a thing), before falling into some really bad sleep. We finally got out of bed around 1, coffee'd up and headed back to Voodoo.
T.C. Obsession
I've been reading T.C. Boyle's The Women. I really ought to know better than to pick up a Boyle book while I have other pressing matters to attend to, because he always sucks me in. I started it because I didn't want to be bored between shows at Voodoo. Richie said, "You're going to a festival with tens of thousands of people and you're going to be the one reading a book?" I replied, "I don't think you understand how antisocial I really am with strangers."
So now I'm toting the book everywhere, reading it until 2am and it reminded me of the first time I ever read Boyle. It was "Greasy Lake" in my high school English class and I was so taken with it that I went to Barnes and Noble that weekend and bought every collection of his short stories, which cost around $80. I remember being worried that I was spending that much but then I went to the car and started reading at stoplights on the way home and forgot all about it.
Trains and Planes
Mike posted on FB that he's going to AWP and staying with Erin in Chicago. I've wanted to go to AWP every year and I was toying with the idea when I saw that Margaret Atwood is the keynote this year. That settled it for me. I signed up to volunteer at the event, to get my registration covered, then I started looking into flights. They were about $350 round trip, which is way more than what I wanted to spend. Then I checked out Amtrak. I ended up booking a train passage, leaving New Orleans on Feb 28 and arriving in Chicago the next day at 9am. (I'm taking a one-way flight back to NOLA that Sunday...still cheaper than round-trip flight). I'm really really excited--I've never been on a train and we're going to go through Memphis. I was thinking about bringing some 1920's lit to read on the ride, until I remembered that I will be deep into the thesis at that point, so fun reading will probably turn out to be something like Halberstam's Female Masculinity. Ah well. Train! Atwood! Friends! Chicago!
Showing posts with label awkward among us. Show all posts
Showing posts with label awkward among us. Show all posts
Thursday, November 3, 2011
Monday, October 24, 2011
feeling like a half-rate stripper
I am actually wearing lingerie under my clothes right now. This feels...cheesy. But kind of hot. But mostly cheesy. Maybe not so much after some wine and when I'm not alone.
(my sexy room isn't helping matters much.)
Thursday, August 25, 2011
we should've left you.
Today is apparently the 10 year anniversary of Aaliyah's death. Aaliyah always reminds me of one of my more humiliating middle/high school experiences.
When I was in 9th grade, I was in that stage where I wanted to stand out and be cool, while also fitting in (a feeling I was thankfully relieved of when I started private school at Racist Private School the next year...seriously, our mascot was a motherfucking Confederate General). My friends at the time were possessed of similar notions, so we decided to start a flag team. Note, this was not the dance team or the cheerleading squad. We were way too uncool and physically awkward for that. We found a faculty sponsor and crafted a "routine" to Aaliyah's "Try Again" (this was 2000, the year the song came out, so it was pretty popular). After a few after school practices, we performed the...routine (I don't know what else to call it. It wasn't quite a dance and we didn't even have flags...it was just kind of stepping back and forth with hand motions) in the courtyard at break (break at that school was a 15 minute period for all grades to go outside). We didn't have costumes, so we wore gym shorts and t-shirts with iron-on transfers. I was singing the song to myself the entire time to remember the moves and, when we finished, we got some half-hearted applause, some jeering and a bunch of snickering. The guy I had a crush on, a junior, looked embarrassed to know me. A friend of his told me to quit counting the steps because it was "super obvious." As much as I hated switching schools the next year, that memory helped me be okay with it.
I'd attach a picture of what I looked like in 9th grade, but I'm fairly sure I destroyed most photo evidence of that time.
So, thanks Aaliyah. Your music inspired some young women to make assholes of themselves. But I'm still sorry you're dead and when I hear "Try Again," I still mentally do that routine in my head.
When I was in 9th grade, I was in that stage where I wanted to stand out and be cool, while also fitting in (a feeling I was thankfully relieved of when I started private school at Racist Private School the next year...seriously, our mascot was a motherfucking Confederate General). My friends at the time were possessed of similar notions, so we decided to start a flag team. Note, this was not the dance team or the cheerleading squad. We were way too uncool and physically awkward for that. We found a faculty sponsor and crafted a "routine" to Aaliyah's "Try Again" (this was 2000, the year the song came out, so it was pretty popular). After a few after school practices, we performed the...routine (I don't know what else to call it. It wasn't quite a dance and we didn't even have flags...it was just kind of stepping back and forth with hand motions) in the courtyard at break (break at that school was a 15 minute period for all grades to go outside). We didn't have costumes, so we wore gym shorts and t-shirts with iron-on transfers. I was singing the song to myself the entire time to remember the moves and, when we finished, we got some half-hearted applause, some jeering and a bunch of snickering. The guy I had a crush on, a junior, looked embarrassed to know me. A friend of his told me to quit counting the steps because it was "super obvious." As much as I hated switching schools the next year, that memory helped me be okay with it.
I'd attach a picture of what I looked like in 9th grade, but I'm fairly sure I destroyed most photo evidence of that time.
So, thanks Aaliyah. Your music inspired some young women to make assholes of themselves. But I'm still sorry you're dead and when I hear "Try Again," I still mentally do that routine in my head.
Monday, June 20, 2011
one step forward, two steps back, in the hole, broken leg.
me: I am tired.
and I feel stagnant
Steve: in general or today?
me: sometimes I want to do so much that I get paralyzed by it and then I do nothing at all
both
I dunno. I think part of it is some residual sadness from things happening around me
one of our dr's wives had to get an abortion this week because they found out the baby had no cerebellum and wouldn't survive outside the womb
then I found out my cousin's wife has cancer that's spread to her spinal fluid and she has 2 kids and he's trying really hard to deal with it and they're treating it but, you know, you always think the worst
and then I keep...fantasizing (for lack of a better term) about attending her funeral and just the idea of it makes me feel guilty
I don't know. its not just that. it's just the idea that we will never be able to achieve everything we want to in life, that we will always have to settle for less and hope that what we settle for is fulfilling enough, that we make the "right" choices
I'm normally okay enough about this stuff, optimistic enough that I can and will be happy, but sometimes it gets to me.
Steve: It's hard to face that you have to settle and it's hard to ignore the could-have-beens
me: yeah it is.
and, in thinking about all this, I start thinking about loose ends, etc.
like, there was this guy (I think I told you about him?)
Steve: the abusive guy?
me: and I feel...fucked up about the way things went with him. to the point where I still think about it, still think about contacting him even though he cut off contact with me and probably has absolutely no desire to hear from me
no no, this is a different guy
*stuff here*
me: and, I don't know. it kind of broke my heart, surprisingly so, because I really LIKED that guy.
and I hate the abruptness of shit like that because I feel like contacting him isn't going to do ANY good, will probably just make it worse...but I still want to
Steve: I'd recommend against it at this point in time
me:yeah. I'm not going to. I know it's stupid. But it just saddens me.
because there are other situations like that. you were a situation like that, for me, for awhile and that saddened me too
but I guess it was different because I was angry at you and I'm not angry at him
(not that I am anymore )
I guess I tend to tie those situations in with the bigger picture of trying to be happy and it's hard for me to be happy when I feel like I've hurt someone.
it just...frustrates me about myself. that I can't let shit go, that I seemingly self-sabotage myself when things are happy and good
I feel like things can never be good enough
and sometimes that's a motivator, you know? to make things better. other times, it just makes me want to crawl in a hole.
you were laughing at me and calling me zippy, but there is something inside me that insists I be productive, that I not run in place. because the biggest depressor for me is feeling stagnant. it is absolutely my worse trigger.
sorry
I obviously needed to spill 
Steve: np
me:thanks
Steve: act like bp
Times like this, I like to listen to Louis Armstrong and Ella Fitzgerald's "Tenderly" and try to remember to be kind to myself.
and I feel stagnant
Steve: in general or today?
me: sometimes I want to do so much that I get paralyzed by it and then I do nothing at all
both
I dunno. I think part of it is some residual sadness from things happening around me
one of our dr's wives had to get an abortion this week because they found out the baby had no cerebellum and wouldn't survive outside the womb
then I found out my cousin's wife has cancer that's spread to her spinal fluid and she has 2 kids and he's trying really hard to deal with it and they're treating it but, you know, you always think the worst
and then I keep...fantasizing (for lack of a better term) about attending her funeral and just the idea of it makes me feel guilty
I don't know. its not just that. it's just the idea that we will never be able to achieve everything we want to in life, that we will always have to settle for less and hope that what we settle for is fulfilling enough, that we make the "right" choices
I'm normally okay enough about this stuff, optimistic enough that I can and will be happy, but sometimes it gets to me.
Steve: It's hard to face that you have to settle and it's hard to ignore the could-have-beens
me: yeah it is.
and, in thinking about all this, I start thinking about loose ends, etc.
like, there was this guy (I think I told you about him?)
Steve: the abusive guy?
me: and I feel...fucked up about the way things went with him. to the point where I still think about it, still think about contacting him even though he cut off contact with me and probably has absolutely no desire to hear from me
no no, this is a different guy
*stuff here*
me: and, I don't know. it kind of broke my heart, surprisingly so, because I really LIKED that guy.
and I hate the abruptness of shit like that because I feel like contacting him isn't going to do ANY good, will probably just make it worse...but I still want to
Steve: I'd recommend against it at this point in time
me:yeah. I'm not going to. I know it's stupid. But it just saddens me.
because there are other situations like that. you were a situation like that, for me, for awhile and that saddened me too
but I guess it was different because I was angry at you and I'm not angry at him
(not that I am anymore )
I guess I tend to tie those situations in with the bigger picture of trying to be happy and it's hard for me to be happy when I feel like I've hurt someone.
it just...frustrates me about myself. that I can't let shit go, that I seemingly self-sabotage myself when things are happy and good
I feel like things can never be good enough
and sometimes that's a motivator, you know? to make things better. other times, it just makes me want to crawl in a hole.
you were laughing at me and calling me zippy, but there is something inside me that insists I be productive, that I not run in place. because the biggest depressor for me is feeling stagnant. it is absolutely my worse trigger.
sorry
I obviously needed to spill 
Steve: np
me:thanks
Steve: act like bp
Times like this, I like to listen to Louis Armstrong and Ella Fitzgerald's "Tenderly" and try to remember to be kind to myself.
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
this went nowhere.
Mandi: goddammit.
I am incapable of not being a total dipshit
there is this hot hot hot barista at Z'otz
he's gotten where he gives me large coffees for the price of a small
and just now, I went to ask for the wireless password and he said "are you reading judith butler?"
and I said "oh yeah" *feet shuffling*
and he said "I didn't know anybody read her anymore...that was back when I was a kid" (this guy is no way older than 32 or so)
and I was like "oh yeah I'm uh just like writing a paper" (then I made some weird hidey-ho gesture with my arms)
and then kind of walked away and turned back and said "but I mean, I like her!"
and he said "oh uh..yeah"
and now I'm facing him from across the shop and I can feel this awkward look on my face
Christie: AHAHAHA
i don't mean to be amused by your awkward trumbles
Me: god, I suck.
hahahahahaha
but you are
and so am I
C: they are funny
C: go back up there and ask him what he likes about judith butler
Me: god no
C: fuck yeah
why not?
Me: you are so brave
and I am so not brave
because I think you imagine me just sliding up there like "so what is it you like about butler?" and then slickly discussing theories of performativity
when in reality, I'd kind of shuffle up and be like "so uh what do you like about butler?" and he'd be all "um..."
C: it doesn't have to be slick
as long as it's mandi
whaddaya got to lose?
Me: my dignity
I am incapable of not being a total dipshit
there is this hot hot hot barista at Z'otz
he's gotten where he gives me large coffees for the price of a small
and just now, I went to ask for the wireless password and he said "are you reading judith butler?"
and I said "oh yeah" *feet shuffling*
and he said "I didn't know anybody read her anymore...that was back when I was a kid" (this guy is no way older than 32 or so)
and I was like "oh yeah I'm uh just like writing a paper" (then I made some weird hidey-ho gesture with my arms)
and then kind of walked away and turned back and said "but I mean, I like her!"
and he said "oh uh..yeah"
and now I'm facing him from across the shop and I can feel this awkward look on my face
Christie: AHAHAHA
i don't mean to be amused by your awkward trumbles
Me: god, I suck.
hahahahahaha
but you are
and so am I
C: they are funny
C: go back up there and ask him what he likes about judith butler
Me: god no
C: fuck yeah
why not?
Me: you are so brave
and I am so not brave
because I think you imagine me just sliding up there like "so what is it you like about butler?" and then slickly discussing theories of performativity
when in reality, I'd kind of shuffle up and be like "so uh what do you like about butler?" and he'd be all "um..."
C: it doesn't have to be slick
as long as it's mandi
whaddaya got to lose?
Me: my dignity
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
monstermash
Marla really wants to lay on the keyboard. I have moved her 6 times.
texts from tonight:
Me: A nice young man just asked me out on a date in this here cawfee shop. I turned him down, but still cute.
Alyson: Whoa :)
Me: Guess the strung out student look is sexy to some! (not kidding here. I was curled up in a chair, wearing an overly large cardigan, scrawling notes and randomly muttering to myself.)
Alyson: mmm heroin geek chic. Mandi, Queen of the Coffee Scene :)
Me: hahaha "her glassy red eyes shone like rubies; the grinding of her teeth, the sweetest symphony!"
Alyson: I love you :)
Me: I love you too :)
Me (to my mom): Listening to B.B. King while studying and thought of you. Hope everything is ok. I'll try and call you tomorrow after class. Love you.
I'm so worried about my mom. She's so so close to totally losing her shit and I don't know what to do other than try and be in touch as often as I can, but sometimes, it's just too much for me to hear everyday. After I sent her that text, I started wondering what I would do if she did harm herself. It's becoming more and more of a tangible thought for me and the reality of it is terrifying. I had to stop thinking about it because I was choking up in the coffeeshop. I think the worst thing I can imagine happening to me, short of dying, is my mom dying. Even the thought of dying myself is tempered by the sadness it would cause her. I remember when Candace died and she told me, "I'd never be able to go on if something happened to you. I would just stop functioning. I would die too." In some ways, it's my motivation to be good to myself, not to harm myself. In other ways, it's repressive; I'm loathe to show depression around her. But I'm torn between my worry for her and my complete lack of desire to be around my family situation because it's so painful.
This happened today:
Justice Department to Stop Defending Federal Law on Gay Marriage
President Obama, in a major legal policy shift, has directed the Justice Department to stop defending the Defense of Marriage Act - the 1996 law that bars federal recognition of same-sex marriages - against lawsuits challenging it as unconstitutional.
Attorney General Eric H. Holder Jr. on Wednesday sent a letter to Congress to inform them that the Justice Department will now take the position in court that the Defense of Marriage Act should be struck down as a violation of gay couples' rights to equal protection under the law.
"The President and I have concluded that classifications based on sexual orientation warrant heightened scrutiny and that, as applied to same-sex couples legally married under state law" a crucial provision of the Defense of Marriage Act is unconstitutional, Mr. Holder wrote.
-NY Times
Currently reading J.L. Austin's How to Do Things With Words in prep for indie study + research paper + thesis. Excerpt:
Yet I will content myself here with pointing out that one of the things that has been happening lately in philosophy is that close attention has been given even to "statements" which, though not false exactly nor yet "contradictory," are yet outrageous. For instance, statements which refer to something which does not exist as, for example, "The present King of France is bald." There might be a temptation to assimilate this to purporting to bequeath something which you do not own. Is there not a presupposition of existence in each? Is not a statement which refers to something which does not exist not so much false as void? And the more we consider a statement not as a sentence (or proposition) but as an act of speech (out of which the others are logical constructions) the more we are studying the whole thing as an act.
So, I tend to walk around wearing headphones a lot. I like having a soundtrack of sorts, plus when I'm reading, music helps me concentrate. As I was walking to my car earlier, I was listening to "Beginning to See the Light" and drumming with my hands and, apparently, singing aloud, judging from the surprised looks of 2 passerby. I just smiled at them and continued on my way, which I hope was a good mask for my embarrassment.
Well I'm beginning to see the light.
Well I'm beginning to see the light.
Some people work very hard
But still they never get it right
Well I'm beginning to see the light.
There are problems in these times
But none of them are mine
Baby, I'm beginning to see the light.
Here we go again,
I thought that you were my friend.
Here we go again,
I thought that you were my friend.
How does it feel to be loved?
How does it feel to be loved?
texts from tonight:
Me: A nice young man just asked me out on a date in this here cawfee shop. I turned him down, but still cute.
Alyson: Whoa :)
Me: Guess the strung out student look is sexy to some! (not kidding here. I was curled up in a chair, wearing an overly large cardigan, scrawling notes and randomly muttering to myself.)
Alyson: mmm heroin geek chic. Mandi, Queen of the Coffee Scene :)
Me: hahaha "her glassy red eyes shone like rubies; the grinding of her teeth, the sweetest symphony!"
Alyson: I love you :)
Me: I love you too :)
Me (to my mom): Listening to B.B. King while studying and thought of you. Hope everything is ok. I'll try and call you tomorrow after class. Love you.
I'm so worried about my mom. She's so so close to totally losing her shit and I don't know what to do other than try and be in touch as often as I can, but sometimes, it's just too much for me to hear everyday. After I sent her that text, I started wondering what I would do if she did harm herself. It's becoming more and more of a tangible thought for me and the reality of it is terrifying. I had to stop thinking about it because I was choking up in the coffeeshop. I think the worst thing I can imagine happening to me, short of dying, is my mom dying. Even the thought of dying myself is tempered by the sadness it would cause her. I remember when Candace died and she told me, "I'd never be able to go on if something happened to you. I would just stop functioning. I would die too." In some ways, it's my motivation to be good to myself, not to harm myself. In other ways, it's repressive; I'm loathe to show depression around her. But I'm torn between my worry for her and my complete lack of desire to be around my family situation because it's so painful.
This happened today:
Justice Department to Stop Defending Federal Law on Gay Marriage
President Obama, in a major legal policy shift, has directed the Justice Department to stop defending the Defense of Marriage Act - the 1996 law that bars federal recognition of same-sex marriages - against lawsuits challenging it as unconstitutional.
Attorney General Eric H. Holder Jr. on Wednesday sent a letter to Congress to inform them that the Justice Department will now take the position in court that the Defense of Marriage Act should be struck down as a violation of gay couples' rights to equal protection under the law.
"The President and I have concluded that classifications based on sexual orientation warrant heightened scrutiny and that, as applied to same-sex couples legally married under state law" a crucial provision of the Defense of Marriage Act is unconstitutional, Mr. Holder wrote.
-NY Times
Currently reading J.L. Austin's How to Do Things With Words in prep for indie study + research paper + thesis. Excerpt:
Yet I will content myself here with pointing out that one of the things that has been happening lately in philosophy is that close attention has been given even to "statements" which, though not false exactly nor yet "contradictory," are yet outrageous. For instance, statements which refer to something which does not exist as, for example, "The present King of France is bald." There might be a temptation to assimilate this to purporting to bequeath something which you do not own. Is there not a presupposition of existence in each? Is not a statement which refers to something which does not exist not so much false as void? And the more we consider a statement not as a sentence (or proposition) but as an act of speech (out of which the others are logical constructions) the more we are studying the whole thing as an act.
So, I tend to walk around wearing headphones a lot. I like having a soundtrack of sorts, plus when I'm reading, music helps me concentrate. As I was walking to my car earlier, I was listening to "Beginning to See the Light" and drumming with my hands and, apparently, singing aloud, judging from the surprised looks of 2 passerby. I just smiled at them and continued on my way, which I hope was a good mask for my embarrassment.
Well I'm beginning to see the light.
Well I'm beginning to see the light.
Some people work very hard
But still they never get it right
Well I'm beginning to see the light.
There are problems in these times
But none of them are mine
Baby, I'm beginning to see the light.
Here we go again,
I thought that you were my friend.
Here we go again,
I thought that you were my friend.
How does it feel to be loved?
How does it feel to be loved?
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
"we've got to break it before it breaks us"
I've been spending a lot of time in the shower lately. Ever since finals week, I've been taking lengthy hot showers that usually involve me sitting on the floor of the tub for a period of time while water streams over my face and shoulders. The other night, I laid on my back with my hands over my face (so I could breathe) and pretended I was in a warm rain shower. The shower is my combo being-at-peace-with-my-body time and my think-about-nothing time.
Life has been okay 'round here. I started my second semester of grad school and, so far, things are going well. I've been making a concerted effort to do my homework in small bits so that I don't become overloaded and rushed. My Medieval NOLA class seems like it will be very easy--a handout here and there, no textbook and lots of information about New Orleans-based medieval musicians, architecture, rare manuscripts, etc. Alyson is also taking the class with me, which will probably make it a lot more fun.
Justice, Law and Public Policy might be a little more trying. I'm curious to see how I'll end up acting in this class. Last semester, I rarely spoke in class, mostly out of hesitation to get in some involved argument with people whose minds were obviously not going to be changed by anything I had to say. B is taking this class too, and I wish Alyson was also taking it so we could have our Tuesday night trifecta, but she's busy with thesis work. The class involves discussion on topics like abortion (our next class), affirmative action, the death penalty, etc. I get the idea that much of the class isn't so liberal minded as I am, so I'm not especially looking forward to these discussions, but the argumentative part of me sort of relishes it.
I'm mostly excited about my independent study. I wasn't sure how it would be structured, but for our first class, the other student and I just spent an hour discussion Foucault and batting around various ideas and theories. This class involves a fair amount of dense reading (next class is Derrida "That Dangerous Supplement" and Book 3 of Rousseau's Confessions) but it's rewarding in the sense that we're really getting into what we read (as opposed to a glossed over lecture that hits the high points) in our discussions. After the first class, I walked into the library to visit with Alyson and she was visibly surprised at my good mood. She told me I looked happy.
I guess I have been in a fairly shitty mood for awhile, as is probably obvious by the past blog posts here. I actually looked into seeing a counselor but I don't think it would fit into my schedule (oh, irony.) I need to figure out something to do about my anxiety, but I don't want to be on medication for it because a) that sucks and b) I think a lot of it stems from depression, for which talk therapy has always been very helpful. Part of me kind of hopes it'll just pass and I'm trying to do "positive things" (oh, that sounds so cheesy) to keep my spirits up and my sanity intact.
One of those things is being really careful about what I eat. I have to remember that depression is also symptomatic of the PCOS and is not helped by eating a bunch of crap. I've been doing a lot more cooking at home lately, getting back into a cooking routine that I was accustomed to when I lived in BR. I spent a big part of the weekend on food: buying good foods (chard, kale, cauliflower, sweet potatoes, carrots, apples, persimmons, fresh peanut butter, honey), making a big batch of granola for breakfasts, cooking a stockpile of black beans in the crockpot my grandma gave me, making a big pot of my favorite lentil soup. I give myself one off day a week (to do things like eat Pinkberry and drink beer and Jagermeister), because otherwise I crave bad stuff, but I've done pretty well so far. Tonight, I made boiled kale over wheat toast and topped with a poached egg, with honey and chipotle mashed sweet potato on the side. I didn't finish it. I get full a lot faster lately, it seems. I also notice that things I think I crave don't taste so great anymore--the other day, I really wanted a Symphony bar, so I gave in and ate one and found it sort of bland. Same thing with some chocolate chip cookies. That said, I'm pretty sure if I gave into my nagging desire to actually bake something, I'd probably enjoy the results a lot more (which is why I haven't given in--I would go into a brownie-induced coma).
I've also been exercising more often and am slowly, but steadily, losing weight. The downside of this is that my clothes aren't fitting anymore. Sunday, I went to BR, wearing a pair of skinny jeans and a shirt I bought maybe a month ago and I noticed that all my clothes were too big on me, something Christie confirmed. But, I'm happy with the weight loss and I'd rather my clothes be too loose than too tight, so this isn't really that much of a complaint.
I've also just been trying to do little things to make me happy: I donated a bunch of stuff to Goodwill. I went to see Brass Bed at Blue Nile (by myself; a shocking accomplishment), I bought new sheets for my bed, I visited with my neighbors. I try to keep myself from brooding. It's a bit "fake it 'til you make it" but it works.
P.S. Look, I know I've probably lost my entire readership (what little of it there was)...I'm sorry all I write about anymore is work/school, food and depression. I feel kind of boring too but it helps me to read back over this stuff and track progress. Maybe one day I'll start posting sexual anecdotes! (no I won't.)
Life has been okay 'round here. I started my second semester of grad school and, so far, things are going well. I've been making a concerted effort to do my homework in small bits so that I don't become overloaded and rushed. My Medieval NOLA class seems like it will be very easy--a handout here and there, no textbook and lots of information about New Orleans-based medieval musicians, architecture, rare manuscripts, etc. Alyson is also taking the class with me, which will probably make it a lot more fun.
Justice, Law and Public Policy might be a little more trying. I'm curious to see how I'll end up acting in this class. Last semester, I rarely spoke in class, mostly out of hesitation to get in some involved argument with people whose minds were obviously not going to be changed by anything I had to say. B is taking this class too, and I wish Alyson was also taking it so we could have our Tuesday night trifecta, but she's busy with thesis work. The class involves discussion on topics like abortion (our next class), affirmative action, the death penalty, etc. I get the idea that much of the class isn't so liberal minded as I am, so I'm not especially looking forward to these discussions, but the argumentative part of me sort of relishes it.
I'm mostly excited about my independent study. I wasn't sure how it would be structured, but for our first class, the other student and I just spent an hour discussion Foucault and batting around various ideas and theories. This class involves a fair amount of dense reading (next class is Derrida "That Dangerous Supplement" and Book 3 of Rousseau's Confessions) but it's rewarding in the sense that we're really getting into what we read (as opposed to a glossed over lecture that hits the high points) in our discussions. After the first class, I walked into the library to visit with Alyson and she was visibly surprised at my good mood. She told me I looked happy.
I guess I have been in a fairly shitty mood for awhile, as is probably obvious by the past blog posts here. I actually looked into seeing a counselor but I don't think it would fit into my schedule (oh, irony.) I need to figure out something to do about my anxiety, but I don't want to be on medication for it because a) that sucks and b) I think a lot of it stems from depression, for which talk therapy has always been very helpful. Part of me kind of hopes it'll just pass and I'm trying to do "positive things" (oh, that sounds so cheesy) to keep my spirits up and my sanity intact.
One of those things is being really careful about what I eat. I have to remember that depression is also symptomatic of the PCOS and is not helped by eating a bunch of crap. I've been doing a lot more cooking at home lately, getting back into a cooking routine that I was accustomed to when I lived in BR. I spent a big part of the weekend on food: buying good foods (chard, kale, cauliflower, sweet potatoes, carrots, apples, persimmons, fresh peanut butter, honey), making a big batch of granola for breakfasts, cooking a stockpile of black beans in the crockpot my grandma gave me, making a big pot of my favorite lentil soup. I give myself one off day a week (to do things like eat Pinkberry and drink beer and Jagermeister), because otherwise I crave bad stuff, but I've done pretty well so far. Tonight, I made boiled kale over wheat toast and topped with a poached egg, with honey and chipotle mashed sweet potato on the side. I didn't finish it. I get full a lot faster lately, it seems. I also notice that things I think I crave don't taste so great anymore--the other day, I really wanted a Symphony bar, so I gave in and ate one and found it sort of bland. Same thing with some chocolate chip cookies. That said, I'm pretty sure if I gave into my nagging desire to actually bake something, I'd probably enjoy the results a lot more (which is why I haven't given in--I would go into a brownie-induced coma).
I've also been exercising more often and am slowly, but steadily, losing weight. The downside of this is that my clothes aren't fitting anymore. Sunday, I went to BR, wearing a pair of skinny jeans and a shirt I bought maybe a month ago and I noticed that all my clothes were too big on me, something Christie confirmed. But, I'm happy with the weight loss and I'd rather my clothes be too loose than too tight, so this isn't really that much of a complaint.
I've also just been trying to do little things to make me happy: I donated a bunch of stuff to Goodwill. I went to see Brass Bed at Blue Nile (by myself; a shocking accomplishment), I bought new sheets for my bed, I visited with my neighbors. I try to keep myself from brooding. It's a bit "fake it 'til you make it" but it works.
P.S. Look, I know I've probably lost my entire readership (what little of it there was)...I'm sorry all I write about anymore is work/school, food and depression. I feel kind of boring too but it helps me to read back over this stuff and track progress. Maybe one day I'll start posting sexual anecdotes! (no I won't.)
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
"how can I explain, I need you here and not here too"
After my last post, I decided, seized as I was by my inability to leave things undone (for reference, this whole falling out happened a year and a half ago) and a flaring up of my superstitiousness, to refriend AA on Facebook. He accepted shortly after and I IMed him and sent him that post. We had a good talk and, in the end, I was glad I had followed up on my fit of pique.
I have this sort of awful habit of clinging to unresolved situations, of trying to "right" them, even, sometimes, to further detriment of the situation (and/or my own sanity). I can't stand a lack of finality or resolution when it comes to my friendships, even though I'm generally pretty avoidant when it comes to other sorts of confrontation. I don't quite understand it and I know it drives other people nuts, but I can't help it. I'll think things over until I'm obsessing about them, dreaming about them, trying to figure out something, SOMETHING that will make it better, even when sometimes "making it better" is just dropping it.
The best explanation I have is that my best friend, Candace, was killed when I was 17, in a car accident, while we were in the midst of a fight and not speaking to one another. A few years after that, when I was 21, a very close friend/ex-boyfriend died of cancer. I had been avoiding him due to some things occuring that I'm still not really able to write about. The thing with Candace ate away at me for years and it was only through distance and some pretty intense counseling that I was able to get (mostly) past that...guilt. Guilt mixed with something else...maybe stubborness and a general inability to forgive myself slights. But I think it goes back further than that; I can think of similar incidents years prior.
There's more to this, but seeing as how I've typed three different paragraphs and erased them, I don't think I can write more without rambling, so I'll leave it here for now.
I keep reading the lyrics to Of Montreal's "The Past is a Groteque Animal." The song isn't that fantastic, but the words are.
We want our film to be beautiful, not realistic.
Perceive me in the radiance of your terror dreams
and you can betray me
you can, you can betray me.
But teach me something wonderful.
I have this sort of awful habit of clinging to unresolved situations, of trying to "right" them, even, sometimes, to further detriment of the situation (and/or my own sanity). I can't stand a lack of finality or resolution when it comes to my friendships, even though I'm generally pretty avoidant when it comes to other sorts of confrontation. I don't quite understand it and I know it drives other people nuts, but I can't help it. I'll think things over until I'm obsessing about them, dreaming about them, trying to figure out something, SOMETHING that will make it better, even when sometimes "making it better" is just dropping it.
The best explanation I have is that my best friend, Candace, was killed when I was 17, in a car accident, while we were in the midst of a fight and not speaking to one another. A few years after that, when I was 21, a very close friend/ex-boyfriend died of cancer. I had been avoiding him due to some things occuring that I'm still not really able to write about. The thing with Candace ate away at me for years and it was only through distance and some pretty intense counseling that I was able to get (mostly) past that...guilt. Guilt mixed with something else...maybe stubborness and a general inability to forgive myself slights. But I think it goes back further than that; I can think of similar incidents years prior.
There's more to this, but seeing as how I've typed three different paragraphs and erased them, I don't think I can write more without rambling, so I'll leave it here for now.
I keep reading the lyrics to Of Montreal's "The Past is a Groteque Animal." The song isn't that fantastic, but the words are.
We want our film to be beautiful, not realistic.
Perceive me in the radiance of your terror dreams
and you can betray me
you can, you can betray me.
But teach me something wonderful.
Sunday, November 28, 2010
I'm the kinda that you wanna
I've been in one of those paradoxical moods, where I am craving to be alone but also want to be around certain people. Because of school, being alone has won out. It hasn't been that bad though. I spent yesterday napping and going to the library. Today, after a hellish night due to a slight fever and the cats, I woke up and washed a blanket that a cat angrily peed on, before baking some bourbon-spiked banana nut bread to bring to work for breakfast this week. It came out really nicely.
I decided to walk to the library but when I stepped outside, I wanted some coffee so I walked down to Rue. Unfortunately, they were really packed, so I just turned and left and went to the library as originally planned. I read some Bersani and took some notes for awhile. Eventually, I started getting hungry and, not wanting to let things get too out of hand when I had 18 blocks to walk home, I left. I got my car and went to Rouses', where I walked around for a little while. One of my favorite things to do when I'm feeling particularly stressed is to wander around the grocery store. It's incredibly soothing to me for some reason. I ended up buying 2 apples (one of which I roasted with some cauliflower for dinner), a jar of Stubb's BBQ sauce, a loaf of bread, some grapefruit juice and a jug of sweet tea.
I think I've been kind of a weirdo lately, really inside my own head and indulging all my introvert behaviors (see: long walks, rambling grocery store jaunts, long out-of-the-way drives, going through old photos) but I've also been happy with myself. Sometimes, I like being the crazy cat lady.
I decided to walk to the library but when I stepped outside, I wanted some coffee so I walked down to Rue. Unfortunately, they were really packed, so I just turned and left and went to the library as originally planned. I read some Bersani and took some notes for awhile. Eventually, I started getting hungry and, not wanting to let things get too out of hand when I had 18 blocks to walk home, I left. I got my car and went to Rouses', where I walked around for a little while. One of my favorite things to do when I'm feeling particularly stressed is to wander around the grocery store. It's incredibly soothing to me for some reason. I ended up buying 2 apples (one of which I roasted with some cauliflower for dinner), a jar of Stubb's BBQ sauce, a loaf of bread, some grapefruit juice and a jug of sweet tea.
I think I've been kind of a weirdo lately, really inside my own head and indulging all my introvert behaviors (see: long walks, rambling grocery store jaunts, long out-of-the-way drives, going through old photos) but I've also been happy with myself. Sometimes, I like being the crazy cat lady.
Friday, October 1, 2010
fabalussss
Here are some great reasons to live alone:
-When you go on a week-long study binge, in which you are regularly throwing things in pots and eating them over the stove while you peruse Dangerous Liaisons and you don't have time to wash that pot and spoon, or the stack of dishes in the sink, no one will bitch about it.
-You can leave the bathroom door open
-For that matter, you have unlimited access to the bathroom (this is getting into dangerous "poop entry" territory)
-You can regularly walking around in a towel/robe/t-shirt without bitchery.
-The act of putting on The Pixies "Oh My Golly", pumping your fists in the air like you're a fucking ROCK STAR and loudly singing the lyrics will not piss off someone in another room (don't worry, it's not loud enough to piss off the neighbors) (I hope.) (except maybe that kind of bitchy girl who lives above me.) Bonus: you get to feel like a fucking ROCK STAR.
-When you go on a week-long study binge, in which you are regularly throwing things in pots and eating them over the stove while you peruse Dangerous Liaisons and you don't have time to wash that pot and spoon, or the stack of dishes in the sink, no one will bitch about it.
-You can leave the bathroom door open
-For that matter, you have unlimited access to the bathroom (this is getting into dangerous "poop entry" territory)
-You can regularly walking around in a towel/robe/t-shirt without bitchery.
-The act of putting on The Pixies "Oh My Golly", pumping your fists in the air like you're a fucking ROCK STAR and loudly singing the lyrics will not piss off someone in another room (don't worry, it's not loud enough to piss off the neighbors) (I hope.) (except maybe that kind of bitchy girl who lives above me.) Bonus: you get to feel like a fucking ROCK STAR.
Monday, August 30, 2010
self sight
If you keep digging and digging, eventually you'll hit upon some little nugget of truth about yourself.
Ravi: how do you feel like i would forget you?
you're honestly the 1 person i talk to the most
Mandi: oh I guess I don't mean forget
but I will become less important to you over time
and part of that happening is establishing new relationships with people
a life that I'm not a part of
I don't say that bitterly
but it'll happen
and I think that's what I'm having trouble letting go of
the relationship, I've come to terms with a long time ago
but losing you in general, not being a part of your everyday life
that's quite another thing
and made all the harder because I don't have anything new yet
I have much more trouble meeting people and building new things
Ravii: but you put forth much less effort in doing so
i'm not criticizing you, just stating
Mandi: i put less effort into it because it makes me anxious
I'm not good at it
Ravi: i used to be the same way
probably worse
Mandi: but yet, you're not now
Ravi: and it still affects me now to a certain extent
you just have to work at it i guess
Mandi: but I have no idea how to
and, honestly, I'm not...interested in it
I'm not interested in having a thousand friends on facebook or knowing a ton of people
its not something I really care about and that probably inhibits me
but. there's still the fact that without it, I don't have any new roots to put down
Ravi: but you're complaining about it now?
or am i misunderstanding you
Mandi: I'm not complaining about it
'm saying there's a kind of catch 22 where I need to meet new people to build a new life but I don't have the ability or desire to do that
there's just something weirdly inorganic and kind of selfish to me about making friends with people for the point of needing them as a distraction
I know that sounds weird and is probably reductive in some sense
but I like things to just...happen. and when they don't, I don't have it in me to push it because that's when the doubt sets in.
postscript:
Mandi: btw, I posted that last bit of our convo to my blog
just because it was something I hadn't realized about myself until I started talking about it to you
and I wanted to keep it there for my own reference
if you want me to take it down though, I will
Ravi: i kind of felt like you were attacking me but you don't have to take it down
Mandi:no, I wasn't
honestly
I didn't even think of it that way
I was just kind of...marvelling at that difference
Ravi: like specifically this part: (excerpt part where I talk about my feelings of the lack of authenticity of forced friendships)
Mandi: I guess I can see the first part
but not the end of it
but that's not how I meant it
Ravi: like it sounds like you're implying that i do all those things for the purposes you stated
Mandi: no. nooo
I'm sorry
that's not what I meant at all
Ravi: i don't think you did, but when i reread it, that's how it comes off
to me anyway
Mandi: no I meant that for someone to whom making friends doens't come easily (me), pushing it feels inorganic and inauthentic
Ravi: how do you feel like i would forget you?
you're honestly the 1 person i talk to the most
Mandi: oh I guess I don't mean forget
but I will become less important to you over time
and part of that happening is establishing new relationships with people
a life that I'm not a part of
I don't say that bitterly
but it'll happen
and I think that's what I'm having trouble letting go of
the relationship, I've come to terms with a long time ago
but losing you in general, not being a part of your everyday life
that's quite another thing
and made all the harder because I don't have anything new yet
I have much more trouble meeting people and building new things
Ravii: but you put forth much less effort in doing so
i'm not criticizing you, just stating
Mandi: i put less effort into it because it makes me anxious
I'm not good at it
Ravi: i used to be the same way
probably worse
Mandi: but yet, you're not now
Ravi: and it still affects me now to a certain extent
you just have to work at it i guess
Mandi: but I have no idea how to
and, honestly, I'm not...interested in it
I'm not interested in having a thousand friends on facebook or knowing a ton of people
its not something I really care about and that probably inhibits me
but. there's still the fact that without it, I don't have any new roots to put down
Ravi: but you're complaining about it now?
or am i misunderstanding you
Mandi: I'm not complaining about it
'm saying there's a kind of catch 22 where I need to meet new people to build a new life but I don't have the ability or desire to do that
there's just something weirdly inorganic and kind of selfish to me about making friends with people for the point of needing them as a distraction
I know that sounds weird and is probably reductive in some sense
but I like things to just...happen. and when they don't, I don't have it in me to push it because that's when the doubt sets in.
postscript:
Mandi: btw, I posted that last bit of our convo to my blog
just because it was something I hadn't realized about myself until I started talking about it to you
and I wanted to keep it there for my own reference
if you want me to take it down though, I will
Ravi: i kind of felt like you were attacking me but you don't have to take it down
Mandi:no, I wasn't
honestly
I didn't even think of it that way
I was just kind of...marvelling at that difference
Ravi: like specifically this part: (excerpt part where I talk about my feelings of the lack of authenticity of forced friendships)
Mandi: I guess I can see the first part
but not the end of it
but that's not how I meant it
Ravi: like it sounds like you're implying that i do all those things for the purposes you stated
Mandi: no. nooo
I'm sorry
that's not what I meant at all
Ravi: i don't think you did, but when i reread it, that's how it comes off
to me anyway
Mandi: no I meant that for someone to whom making friends doens't come easily (me), pushing it feels inorganic and inauthentic
Sunday, July 25, 2010
so why don't you kill me?
As I've alluded to before, I am deeply suspicious and uncomfortable around most "new" people or anyone I am expecting not to like me. I generally approach these people with a kind of false jittery confidence that ends up making me feel like I'm being fake, something I'm sure they see and, subsequently, think I AM fake. Or silly or stupid or just plain unlikable.
I've mostly learned to ignore this around Ravi's friends (though I still experience it and if you're being nice to me, I am both appreciating it and questioning if you feel obligated. I'm sorry. I don't think you're underhanded, group of Ravi's friends!) but lately I've been meeting other people, without that "Ravi's girlfriend" safety barrier and, even though they're nice to me and even seem to want to hang out!!!, I still can't shake that whole, "you're pushing too hard, you sound stupid, these people don't really like you; they're just being nice" thing. This feels like high school all over again. I have no idea how to deal with it.
I've mostly learned to ignore this around Ravi's friends (though I still experience it and if you're being nice to me, I am both appreciating it and questioning if you feel obligated. I'm sorry. I don't think you're underhanded, group of Ravi's friends!) but lately I've been meeting other people, without that "Ravi's girlfriend" safety barrier and, even though they're nice to me and even seem to want to hang out!!!, I still can't shake that whole, "you're pushing too hard, you sound stupid, these people don't really like you; they're just being nice" thing. This feels like high school all over again. I have no idea how to deal with it.
Monday, May 3, 2010
oh, comrades.
I am pretty bad at making new friends. I've been pretty worried about this, in that way you abstractly worry about a thing without allowing it to reach the forefront of your mind because dealing with it is just slightly overwhelming. With both Erin and Ravi (these initials are too confusing) both leaving, with other friends moving on, I start to think about what I'll do about friendships.
Amusingly, I've had more than a few people tell me that they think I'm extroverted or good at meeting people or easygoing. In a way, that's true. I'm pretty good at talking to people, mostly as a coping mechanism that I like to refer to as "diarrhea of the mouth." Chances are, if I'm talking to you and we are not the best of friends, I am screaming in my mind "DON'T be AWKWARD. Why did you just SAY that? SHUT UP. Are they looking away? STOP FIDGETING. Look them in the eye. NO DON'T. FIND A WAY TO GET OUT OF THIS. YOU SOUND IDIOTIC." Hours, even days, later, I will play our conversation back over in my head, fantasizing over what I could have said, thinking about how if that person ever talks to me again, they will feel obligated to do so. Even with those people who I am pretty sure like me, I still worry that they really don't and I'll get this little glimmer of cheer when those people notice me or talk to me, because I don't expect it. Parties are (usually) tense affairs for me, because it's all those emotions on crack. I will either sit in the corner or drink myself silly to deal.
I am fucking neurotic when it comes to these things.
A great example is aforementioned guy (from the last entry). I saw him before he saw me (I think?) and I tried to avoid him, while at the same time, wanting to talk to him (not out of romantic interest, but because I find this guy to be interesting and funny and I'd like to get to know him better. And, okay, he's cute.). I finally ended up spotting him and walking over and immediately excused my appearance and then he hugged me and my first thought was "That was nice. Did he do that because he felt like he had to or was he being affectionate?" We chatted and I related myself to 4 scenarios he described, which then made me feel like I was being a one-upper. I finally excused myself and practically ran away.
The thing is, it does not matter your gender. I probably do this with you unless your name is Erin or Ravi or you're closely related to me. Without sounding whiny, I go into most situations with the idea that people don't like me. I'm not implying that this is anyone's problem but my own, but it's such a shitty cycle, because when I decide not to talk to people, I start to worry that they think I'm being a bitch. Then I try to talk and I feel like everything I say is arrogant or confusing or plain stupid. Except, instead of stopping, I just keep going, trying to make things come around and make sense again (like this entry!). Hence, the chattiness.
I especially do this with Ravi's friends. Rav is such a popular guy and instead of seeing the situation as "His friends probably think you are awesome by extension," I just feel like people are being nice to me because I'm dating Ravi. It doesn't help that Ravi makes jokes to this effect. I know he's joking, but it always feels like there's a kernel of truth to it. I've "joked" that none of his friends are going to talk to me after he leaves and he replies with, "that's because they know you hate them." Dear Ravi's friends: I don't hate you. At all! I really enjoy you and if I act shifty around you, it's because I'm about to barf on my shoes from nervousness.
I hope this doesn't come off as "Please be my friend, please!"I spent a long time thinking about this entry and I'm already becoming horrified at how pathetic it sounds, but, more than anything, I want to get this out because it helps me put these issues in perspective when I can lay them out in this way. I don't really know what the solution to this problem is, beyond just getting over it, but I would really like to, not just because Rav and Erin are leaving, but because I feel like my neuroses are squandering my chances of getting close to some pretty great people.
I'm going to go barf on my shoes now.
Amusingly, I've had more than a few people tell me that they think I'm extroverted or good at meeting people or easygoing. In a way, that's true. I'm pretty good at talking to people, mostly as a coping mechanism that I like to refer to as "diarrhea of the mouth." Chances are, if I'm talking to you and we are not the best of friends, I am screaming in my mind "DON'T be AWKWARD. Why did you just SAY that? SHUT UP. Are they looking away? STOP FIDGETING. Look them in the eye. NO DON'T. FIND A WAY TO GET OUT OF THIS. YOU SOUND IDIOTIC." Hours, even days, later, I will play our conversation back over in my head, fantasizing over what I could have said, thinking about how if that person ever talks to me again, they will feel obligated to do so. Even with those people who I am pretty sure like me, I still worry that they really don't and I'll get this little glimmer of cheer when those people notice me or talk to me, because I don't expect it. Parties are (usually) tense affairs for me, because it's all those emotions on crack. I will either sit in the corner or drink myself silly to deal.
I am fucking neurotic when it comes to these things.
A great example is aforementioned guy (from the last entry). I saw him before he saw me (I think?) and I tried to avoid him, while at the same time, wanting to talk to him (not out of romantic interest, but because I find this guy to be interesting and funny and I'd like to get to know him better. And, okay, he's cute.). I finally ended up spotting him and walking over and immediately excused my appearance and then he hugged me and my first thought was "That was nice. Did he do that because he felt like he had to or was he being affectionate?" We chatted and I related myself to 4 scenarios he described, which then made me feel like I was being a one-upper. I finally excused myself and practically ran away.
The thing is, it does not matter your gender. I probably do this with you unless your name is Erin or Ravi or you're closely related to me. Without sounding whiny, I go into most situations with the idea that people don't like me. I'm not implying that this is anyone's problem but my own, but it's such a shitty cycle, because when I decide not to talk to people, I start to worry that they think I'm being a bitch. Then I try to talk and I feel like everything I say is arrogant or confusing or plain stupid. Except, instead of stopping, I just keep going, trying to make things come around and make sense again (like this entry!). Hence, the chattiness.
I especially do this with Ravi's friends. Rav is such a popular guy and instead of seeing the situation as "His friends probably think you are awesome by extension," I just feel like people are being nice to me because I'm dating Ravi. It doesn't help that Ravi makes jokes to this effect. I know he's joking, but it always feels like there's a kernel of truth to it. I've "joked" that none of his friends are going to talk to me after he leaves and he replies with, "that's because they know you hate them." Dear Ravi's friends: I don't hate you. At all! I really enjoy you and if I act shifty around you, it's because I'm about to barf on my shoes from nervousness.
I hope this doesn't come off as "Please be my friend, please!"I spent a long time thinking about this entry and I'm already becoming horrified at how pathetic it sounds, but, more than anything, I want to get this out because it helps me put these issues in perspective when I can lay them out in this way. I don't really know what the solution to this problem is, beyond just getting over it, but I would really like to, not just because Rav and Erin are leaving, but because I feel like my neuroses are squandering my chances of getting close to some pretty great people.
I'm going to go barf on my shoes now.
Sunday, May 2, 2010
obviously.
It figures that I would run into a cute guy while wearing rolled up pants, a shirt with holes in it and dog hair on it, no makeup, bangs styled by humidity, unshaven legs and after I'd been moving boxes and furniture. And then he hugged me.
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