Fucking Depressing.

Ah, back to the old karma.
It's sure catching up now.

I think I understand now why cutters do what they do. And alcoholics. And masochists of all creeds. Physical pain can feels good when your emotional pain in intense of enough.
How long is this going to take?
Come on happiness and success, where are you? Yoo hoo? Hey?

Oh, you mean I made a mistake? I am going to be miserable forever? Ooohhhh, I see.
It's my own fault? No one can help me but myself? Oh, gotchya. Well then, that puts a whole new twist on things...

I prefer tequila shots

Last night there was a gunfight right outside my apartment. 4 shots.
My room is on the first floor facing the street.
Real gunshots sound just like they do on TV.

POP! POP! POP! POP!

Back in the New York groove...

Not. Ace Frehley didn't know shit.

I am totally out of the groove. Ugh. I hate adjusting. I know I'll be fine in a few days, but right now I am hugely out of sync.

Red wine and a pad of paper is more dangerous to the heart than I had imagined. The proof is there the next morning. And you can no longer blame it on the wine.

Heartbreaker = Heartbroken

My trip can only be described as a bit of a reckless expression of my id.

My liver hates me.
I have large mysterious bruises, pulled muscles, and terribly sore feet from dancing.
I still have sand in my hair, two showers later.
I have a delightful sunburn.
My confidence has spiked and plummeted over and over.
I was frivolous. I didn't over-analyze. Or even consider consequences. I lived in the moment, for many many moments.

I may have bruised a heart and an ego. Maybe two. I do not feel good about that. It was an act of self preservation.
Sometimes memories come rushing back to hard and fast and they had to be squelched. Unfortunately my method was heartless.

Saying goodbyes has been terrible. Especially to the boys. Splitting up for real. Growing up. I'm having such a hard time with it. 5 years of having them there. Such a motley crew. I haven't laughed so hard in so long. And yet the laughter made me so sad. I won't ever have anything like them again. Thinking of them without each other, on their own, is the most disconcerting, somehow.

The clowns and the brooders. Duluth and Minneapolis. The best friends.

Tomorrow, it's back to reality. Life. Anxiety. However I did relax, in my way.

Cheese Therapy

Ah, my "therapeutic" trip home to Wisconsin.
Revelations so far:

-I seem to be incapable of "relaxing". I have been constantly wondering what to do next, and feel panicky that I won't fit everything in or that I'll forget something or someone.
-My anxiety is not a consequence of environment.
-100 degree heat is much more tolerable in the country.
-I am now considered "exotic" by Midwestern men/boys. To my benefit.
-I can still walk into a bar in Madison and know 50% of the people there. I can't decide if this makes me happy or anxious, since I am considering grad school there in a year.
-Leah should really move to NYC, not Seattle. Her bluntness would be so refreshing to hear everyday.
-Comfortable memories are can be an acceptable excuse for otherwise destructive actions.
-I have found myself wondering what I am missing in New York.


The wedding was wonderful. I saw lots of family members that I haven't seen in ages. My cousin was adorable and they truly looked happy and in love. I also found out that pretty much all the older high school boys I had crushes on are married! So many of them. They are only a few years older than me. Oof. Lud is back so it's good to catch up with her, although she seems to have this slightly lost feeling about her that I haven't pinpointed yet. Some sort of underlying discontent. I still haven't seen or talked to Amanda because she was in the emergency room Saturday night with a throat thing! She's fine, but we certainly need to chat.

My goals for now are the elusive "relaxing" along with hitting the thrift stores that have never seen a hipster.

Tomorrow

I really wish it was tomorrow right now.
I want to be eating breakfast with Joe.
And getting ready to see everyone.
And just be there.

The reality of the situation

It's really starting to hit me.
It's also forcing me to realize some things about myself that I don't like (well, even more things).
I may not be as stable as I've always said I was. I may have anxiety issues. I may have borderline personality disorder. Just like he always said. And I would get so mad.
He put up with it. Getting it taken out on him. Now I am taking it out on myslef. The shortness of breath, the panic, the dispair, the sick stomach, the racing heart. And it's just me. In my little tiny bed. With my boombox and my books. I'm alone so much now. With my roiling stomach and my racing mind.
I know (and have known) it wasn't him making me unhappy, it was always myself. So what does that mean? Is anyone happy though? Truly? Isn't it the human condition to always be wondering what else there is, how you could be better, happier? I think for many it is, but not for him. He can be mostly happy. Content. Occasional bouts of sadness, but they go away.

My sadness has always been there a little bit. Along with anger. It's always there, ready to hit me unexpectedly, along with anyone else in my vicinity.

Cheek kisses

This weekend I learned that I love those cheek kisses that everyone in New York gives.
I finally learned how to properly give and recieve them (while sober) thanks to two charming gentlemen I met. Josh and Jack.
Had a fabulous time on their gorgeous Chelsea roof garden, drinking champagne and wondering what the hell I was doing there.
Besides trying to get Laura and I to take our tops off (more Lillet, ladies. Are even gay men obsessed with boobs?) they took it upon themselves to break me of my timidness in greeting. I am a cheek kiss professional now.
It was another one of those strange/wonderful situations that one can find themselves in, only in New York City. She's been treating me nicer lately, knock on wood...

Starstruck

Last night Stephen Colbert bought me a gin and tonic.
I chatted with Emmy winners. Got butterflies in my stomach.
And I really just had a wonderful time.

I am in love with New York again...

No more contact for awhile.
I feel a sick roil in my stomach.
But at the same time, I have the roil of excitement for something new.
Would I be devastated otherwise?
Will I protect myself enough?
I am not sure how to function without him.
But yet, winging it seems to be going ok.
He's at the forefront of my thoughts, I have so much to tell him that I never will. None if it is really important in the grand scheme.
Just everyday blabbering. The chef from Babbo and Buddokhan in one day. The drinking ticket at the beach. That I am actually ok at Frisbee, I can throw and catch. The firecracker that fell in the kiddy pool.
But now I don't have to tell him what I don't want to either.
I can be excited without guilt. (at least try).
I just need to let time pass, but not waste it.
Like she says, almost everyone is lonely. Especially here, where making a connection is practically a revelation. Hence my fear. But yet I made one. And we'll just see how it goes.

Missing

Every once in a while, it really hits how many people I miss. I don't think about it all the time, otherwise I'd be in constant sorrow. But sometimes... something will trigger a memory, really strongly, and I'll really really wish I were with them.
In no particular order, are the people I've been really missing these days:

Mander
Maciek
Temsy
Lud
My brother
Ben and Nan
Joe

For whatever reason, I've been thinking a lot about these guys and just really wishing we could just hang out and talk.

It's been years since I've seen Temsy and Maciek. That frightens me. It's so long. But yet, I still feel so comfortable with the thought of them.
I will see everyone else soon. In a week and half! So, I have that to look forward too.

Lonesome

After my first Yankee game on Friday night, I have spent the entire weekend by myself. Funny how that can happen in a place like New York City.

I cat sat. I rode the train more than necessary (not on purpose). I hung out in P. Park. I finished my move. Which was an extremely difficult sweat fest. It made me really realize how much I've depended on other people for help, namely A, for so long. I am aching, bruised and scratched, but I did it. It is a relief. All of my stuff in one spot. All of clothes available to me at once. Exciting. I did feel extremely lonely. I probably checked my email more than I should have. But I didn't panic. I slept well, other than Jack waking me up every three hours. I'm not so sure how I will sleep tonight though, in the new place. Plus, I am so paranoid about the bugs coming back. Terrified actually. I miss A. I still can't seem to go to concerts, or bars, or museums or movies by myself. I just can't. I wonder what I will do on the 4th...