culture shock

Chris and I had a conversation the other day on our own perspective of what the Midwest meant to us. Chris grew up in tiny hamlets (population of several thousand), while I criss-crossed from Port Huron to Toronto. It was with that conversation that I realised that my own perception of the Midwest, and the world in general, was not what I thought it should or could be. Because I had lived and visited extensively to several metro areas while still a child, I understood a better sense of my gypsy-like lifestyle more so than I did ever before. That alone was perhaps one of the greatest realisations of myself that I have had in current history.
I’ve always talked about the fact that there are two Lisas — one that harbors the home and hearth fantasy while the other sees herself as jet setting across the globe. It’s difficult to reconcile the two, finding a place where I fit in without feeling claustrophobic. Someone once said that my own pre-determined destinies would only come true if I let them — as I had often remarked that I was going to end up being the old hag at the end of a bar, wearing my faux fur and jewels while slugging back vodkas and chain smoking, while regaling of all my love affairs with men that got progressively younger. On the other hand, there is the aging Lisa bouncing my grandchildren on my knee while regaling of all my adventures around the world.
At the Caffe Accademica, near the Piazza di Spagna, inside the putrid smelling bathrooms, graffiti was written by women from all over the world. I had wished I had a pen with me, to leave my mark on that bathroom wall, to note that “Lisa was here.” Who we are but memories that we create with others and memories that we create within ourselves.
Life is about ambience and adventure. Even when we got detoured from the metro the other day, our walk to Termini through Chinatown was an adventure. Our getting lost was an adventure. Life is nothing more than a series of getting lost from location to location and hoping to hell you can find your way back. It’s not just about the tourist sites and the souvenirs collected on your travels, but the impressions that you impart and take with you as you go. I wish that I had the photography training to capture the images of the people as we walked, because I wanted to remember the look of the lovers who were snogging besides us the restaurant or the old couple who walked happily down Via ottavio towards the Vatican, hand in hand.
When I had move to the Bay Area in 1997, one of my friends there notated as we walked down Telegraph Rd. in Berkeley — that I seemed to fit in. This chameleon like trait has been a curse, I thought, since high school when I meshed from social group to social group. And I think that is why I don’t feel so intimidated being in a different country. Sure, the culture is different and the people are different but in the end, we really are all just the same. I could see myself living here, just as I could see myself living in Barcelona or in the South of France (I’m not terribly crazy about Paris but perhaps if I had spent more time in the city, that too would have changed). I feel confident that I could go anywhere in the world and blend in, without having too much of a terrible difficulty getting around. Perhaps I should just accept my fate that I am a world citizen, not a citizen of a particular country or city.

at the airport

One of the great things about being a geek is the capability of having technology with you on the go. However if I was more of a geek, I’d be sitting here on wireless dialup account instead of, well, not.
The Grand Rapids International airport (GRR) is strange in many ways. First off, the security measures here surpass those of even Dulles (IAD) in Washington. My brother had said to me when he was flying out of GRR to IAD to come visit me last summer about the trials and tribulations he had to go through with security when he was waiting for his flight. I didn’t believe him. How could I? For a metro area of several hundred thousand people, many don’t seem to leave, and it would seem difficult to comprehend the idea that the security at GRR would surpass that of IAD.
I feel more and more out of place when I talk about my travels when in my own mind, I do not do more than go where I want. In my own eyes, the world is so large and I’ve seen so little, it’s hard to distinguish from what is “well traveled” to what is not. I guess it does sound a bit exotic to say I’ve lived in San Francisco, Washington DC, and Toronto and then come back here to good old GRap as the locals call it. Why would I want to come back?
There was a girl I had worked with at the cawfee shop who had said that her world consisted of Kent County and that was it. She had no desire to travel beyond her “bubble” as she called it. She wanted to get married, have babies, and be a mommy. She was all of 18. She had no desire to see the world or explore outside of her bubble. There are those I know who have traveled outside their boundaries physically and could not comprehend what they saw. I mean that here they are, traveling around the state, country or internationally, and disliked it.
Personally, I don’t know what it is. Is it the restlessness that I feel? Which I automatically think that is really screaming of my own lack of commitment. Can I feel comfortable to one day settle down in one place and be happy or even just content? It is difficult for me to say. The Geography of Michigan class that I’m taking currently shows just how diverse Michigan is, at least from a geographical point of view. There is so much to see and do here (as shocking as that may be when taking into heart my thoughts on Michigan and the Midwest in general), that I feel overwhelmed. I haven’t even been any farther than Traverse City and have yet been to the Upper Peninsula, and for being a “local,” to me that is disgraceful.
Because my trip plans for Europe have fallen through, I had been thinking of renting a cottage up in the UP for a week. Just me. The dogs. My laptop and pray-fully, no internet connection. I have found that the more I live alone, the more I like it. I’m more of private person and now I wonder if I will ever really be happy being with someone in a relationship. I think about that part quite a bit, that my own happiness is coming from within, but yet even at that stage, I would never feel comfortable being with someone else. Things like having a family do equate into this, but I do not ever really see someone else as being by side. I’ve honestly thought that if I was not married or in a committed relationship by the time, I was 35, I would end up having IVF kids. Keth and I joke about that now, but the more I look at it, the more I realize just how much of the truth it may be. I’m not scared of this idea, I guess I’ve always thought that it would be better to raise a child alone than in a relationship where it was abusive, and the issue is that it’s becoming clear with my own relationship choices that abuse is all I know. That is not to say that all the relationships I’ve been were abusive, but it all goes back to Alan and when I had for a brief moment in time the “perfect” relationship in my eyes only to have it blown up in my face – all because he had cheated on me.
Danny says I carry extra guilt left over from my Catholic upbringing, and I’m not quite sure that is true. I can see why he would think that but I’m tired of feeling like I have these rigid set of morals and ideas only to find the world shifts too much into the grey pattern area. Most of it conflicting. Like I do consider emotional cheating to be cheating. I cannot abide by the fact that if you are in a relationship that you would have the audacity of wanting to be with someone else. Oh, I know it’s human relations to look and admire attractive people, that’s fine, but when it becomes something else and ends up being more than a fantasy, then it becomes dangerous. Why get married or be with someone if you don’t, truthfully, want to be with them? That’s never made sense to me and those who know me the best would know the agony I went through prior the separation with Paul. It made me numb. I felt nothing other than I did not want to be here and I had to leave and I could never communicate to those just how difficult it was TO leave. The one thing I did resent was the common ideology that if you are not happy, then just leave, that I could pick up and go and no one seemed to take into account that they only knew my side of the story or even better, they knew only what I would tell them. They did not walk in my shoes and they did not seem to understand when I tried to make the situation clear.
I have this sinking suspicion I’ll always be a solitary person, and that discovery has hurt more than anything else. Not that being solitary is bad, but simply that not having someone by my side would hurt. I’ve dreamed of being with someone, this ‘being’ if you will, that would compliment me as I would compliment them. True wuv. So now, I wonder if I feel disillusioned simply because of past experiences or what the deal is. Hope is there, it’s a small flame, and it’s becoming smaller. In the end, I’m tired of a society that is cruel and malicious and I just wish people were nicer to each other, but that wish doesn’t seem to want to work out.
Keth says, maybe I’m looking too hard? She said to me when I was lamenting about this to her fairly recently and I can see why she would say that. If you’ve searched for “something” for over 30 years, it’s very easy to get discouraged but it’s difficult to keep up hope. It’s difficult to feel that there is a light at the end of the tunnel. I know there are many difficulties that I have sustained in my life that have bucked the system. I’ve left high school and went back and got my GED. I went to college, only to leave and come back many years later. Things that professionals say are the hardest to do, I’ve done. Yet I feel no satisfaction from these accomplishments.
($Deity save me from ignorant people. Please. A girl in my Geography of Michigan class asked if we had to know the bedrock type. Hello. Geography. Pay ATTENTION! Another woman compared the term ‘outwash’ (the left over silt from glacier movement) to the leftover drippings of Guinness. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.)

One thing leads to another

Shooting at the walls of heartache, BANG BANG
so last night ben and i were using this nifty software so we could talk voice over ip and man was it crystal clear, Anyways, so we were talking both kind of waiting for the war to start (is this how it starts now? you know baby share this war with me?) and well there was no big KABOOM and well i can’t speak for him but damn i felt very anticlimactic. Kind of like when you really dig someone and find out they are crappy kissers, that kind of anticlimactic. But we both thought it would be DAMN cool to be like, talking on-line via VOIP and he’s in Belgium and I’m in the US and the war start. You know, all tragic romancey kind of thing in the bizarre kind of surreal way kind of crap. And I was laughing absurdly at the whole thing and the fact i locked my door when I was going to bed that you know, WW3 is starting and here i am LOCKING MY DOOR. I laughed. I’ve been doing that a lot lately.
SO! things have been weird around these parts. I went and got a new tattoo:

(It’s fake. The Ben is that is. The tattoo. Not the person. I mean if the person was fake, my GOD do i have an imagination and who the hell have I been talking to lately)
But damn! Some people over on my livejournal were all freaking out 10 ways to Sunday and well, i wanted to have fun with people so i told some that, BEN AND I WERE GETTING MARRIED! In GREECE! (We moved it from the South of France to Greece you see). And I was having fun and people believed Ben and I were getting married and well the fun kinda stopped being fun cos no one would play into it. And then I got bored. heh.
But I should marry ben. I mean he’s tall, cute, British, reads, he’s geeky, plays video games and the great part is HE DOES NOT SNORE!
is that a girls dream or what.
I’m kidding.
Maybe.
So anyways, what I did was have this redone:

My mom’s name on my arm, I had Amy re-do as the coloring had come out and everyone was like that was a really great faded effect’ and well it was NOT supposed to be faded and well that is partially my fault but she said she was going to do it for free so HEY who was I to pass that up. I talked to her about my back, which is my next project. I’m going to have half a belt encircle the butterfly so it peeks out from my pants/jeans and then work my way up. I was thinking kanji and I definitely want a piece at the nape of my spine but hey, i’m a broke college student so she’s working out a deal with me and charging me 50/hr instead of 85/hr and we are blocking off two hour time frames and doing this once a month. Except probably in May and August (Vegas baby! and Europe!)
So she’s working on my arm and I told her I was teasing a friend about getting his name tattoo’d on me and I asked her to do it with a sharpie and take a picture of it and she thought it was great idea, so she did! So I giggled all the way home madly and hoping ben was still on-line and he was! And he was like, shocked. it was funny 🙂 Relived I think when I told him it was sharpie and it will fade (like so: https://exitpursuedbyabear.net/wp-content/uploads/2013/10/bentat.jpg — you try taking a pic of your ass :). I told him last night I never once thought he might figure i was like some really CRAZY (seriously) bitch living in the US. Good thing he has a sense of humour.
Sometimes thinking ruins everything. 🙂
What else, well, I got the COOLEST present yesterday:

ohmygod, I LOVE that book and i’m so mad when i lost it. That made me SUPER happy! Ben rules 🙂
And what else, oh i got my UUNet bonus check and also my sprint refund check which meant I got to go spend 50 bucks in books at half.com. heh.
My poli sci exam is pushed back five days. I’m late writing my women writers midterm and I’ve been sitting here bouncing around to 80s music. hahaha. I so want to be out frolicking on the beaches of Mediterranean and NOT in the US.
x0x0x
lisa
oh yah.
kethryvis and i have been sitting here doing our horroscopes with mens we have crushes on. you soooooooo know when you like someone when your sitting here figuring out what the hell your chances are with someone. I told her we needed to be in our pjs, hair in rollers drinking hotcocoa having a slumber party.
Except she’s 3k miles away :/
hahaha. we are pathetic.

talk dirty to me

I should be writing my midterm, which is half-finished and due tomorrow.
I should be doing a lot of things, but i’m not. heh.
Alright, so I’m checking email for the fiftieth time today and I get the following spam:
I would never have believed that my husband of 4 years would cheat on me.
And he didn’t even tell me – I saw his email was full of messages from girls at XXXDate.com who wanted to fuck him! He had a whole folder full of email from women who had already gone to bed with him and had the nerve to thank him for a great time!
These girls sound like total sluts who will fuck anything with a dick. My husband isn’t even good looking he’s overweight and losing his hair and still these girls are all over him.
XXXdate has turned his life into one big sex-capade and I’m mad as hell! So I joined XXXdate just to show him I can fuck more than he can!

And I’m sitting there kind of dumbstruck. Not that it’s spam but it’s just, the content. I am no prude, by any stretch of the imagination, but I think it’s the current climate of women that are sort of bugging me? I can’t really explain it, it’s like, I’ve never really found it difficult to get a man (yes, i know you’ve heard me bitch about getting laid etc but let me finish here) but it’s the QUALITY of MEN i’m looking at discussing.
Keth and I had this conversation the other night when she called me to tell me she got accepted to UCSC and we ended up chatting for a few hours. The conversation kind rounded around men and our current lack thereof. Now, me personally, I do have crushes on people and some I would say were not crushes and probably some sort of “liking” going on (haha, this is so jr high) but, the crushes cannot be realised (you know, I TALK about henry rollins being my third husband but you know he isn’t going to be — really. maybe.)

on arthritis

I’m gonna drop a little back history for those of you in the know:
In 1994, I slipped and fell on my parents driveway, giving myself a dislocation and a double fracture. I ended up with 12 pins and a plate inserted. Since then, I’ve had fairly minor trouble, and it wasn’t until last year when Kethryvis came to visit and I could barely walk half way while she was here because the swelling and the pain was so terrible that i had to keep my leg elevated for most of her trip. Off to the docs i went to find that the ankle itself was fine and dandy, but what I had was Osteopathic Arthritis and well that’s when hell kicked in.
It was like when you find out something, it intensifies. My hands (I’ve sliced off my left pinky, sliced open my right palm), my knees (busted both open).

It’s all for you baby.

I’m done killing kethryvis I think, I’ve been serenading her with Tommy Page lyrics for a while now and she says she has to go brush her teeth from the sweetness. hah.
So, before I go to bed, I just wanted to jot this down.
I mentioned about finding someone recently and getting in touch with them. I’m good at that, you know, finding people. His name was Mike. (hence he started the trend where I state all men named michael have broken my heart — except dear humandays, cos I lurve him).
I’m very punch drunk.
As I was saying, I met Mike when I was 17. He’s like in the top three guys that have been hugely influenced on me. First off, he pursued me. LIke relentlessly. Like intensely. Our relationship spanned on and off for five years, I don’t think anyone has pursued me as much as he did, almost frighteningly and I was ms “Oh, no, I’m not getting involved” with him kind of thing. Which of course caused him to pursue me even harder. But he stuck by me for a lot of things and well, there were some times I treated him pretty badly. It was fucked all around.
Things were heavily complicated. Especially when you are 17, 18 and 19, ane especially 20, 21.
So the crux is:
Mike’s family was/is pretty influential in the area and he ended up leaving and going to Guam, and shit changed drastically between us. He wanted me to come out and we were going to get married and all these big huge dreams when you are 18, 19, 20 years old. Then one night he calls me and he tells me he had been with someone. An older woman. And he was drunk. I was floored. You know how it is when you finally work your trust down and you finally say “Okay, yah, I want to trust this person” and they hurt you and you kick yourself in the ass about it. Well it was like that. and he had the gall to say “I did it all for you baby.” Jesus, I can still see the image of the scene when he told me on the phone and my facial expression in the window pane.
Shortly after that, I ended up dating Alan, which lead to another interesting period in my life. which is neither here nor there. And Mike flew back from Guam and he walked into the store I was working at out of the blue, with two plane tickets to go back to Guam, and one of them was for me. And here I am 20 years old and what the fuck am I supposed to say that ? I said no. I was with Alan, he was THE ONE. hah. Boy was I wrong. But I was young and god, things were just intense. And the look in those big green eyes of his when I said no and when he left. I cried, convinced i had made the right decision.
My relationship with him was like that, on/off, for a long time. I guess in a way I’ve been disappointed that he’s never come looking for me? Maybe I fancied myself as being HIS ONE and therefore thought he would try to save me (from whatever — probably myself) Mike did a lot of actions that I always based future boyfriends on. You know, if XXX loved me he would pursue me the way Mike did. Whatever, the point being that there is a lot of unfinished business between us.
So I’m browsing around on classmates.com and I’m thinking “oh i wonder if xxx” is on there and I narrow the search to all students who are there from 1987-1992 or something silly and his name shows up on second or third page. I just kind of sat there and looked at it and looked at it again. I sorta half laughed, half cried. A few years ago when I was home when my mom was sick, Josh said he stopped by and asked about me. Wanted to get in touch with me. Josh hadn’t spoken to me since I had left for SF and no one knew how to get in touch with me.
So sent him, Mike, and email message, no word back.
I have not spoken to him since 1994? 1995? I still remember his smell, Joop! cologne for men. heh. He had the biggest green eyes. Great voice. Chubby in all the right places.
We were so fucking innocent, it’s almost painful to think about.
I do not romantically hold ideals he’ll come and rescue me, because i know that won’t happen, But I do know I’ll see him again and then we can finally get closure to this whole mess. I just hope he’s happy. I also know I’ll see him when I least expect it.
our song is below: shut up.
Get your lighters out and start swaying

Yes, there is a reason why guests smell after three days

I’m so bloody tired, the mere thought of doing homework makes me want to puke. But with a paper (well, an essay) due tomorrow, a test tomorrow, two big papers due next week and my poli sci midterm also next week, i have to get cracking. I’m not sure how I’m doing it, but I’ve been channeling kethryvis, so fingers crossed it’s all good.
So, I’ve discovered just how much I love my personal space.
Like if space were a man, i’d marry it. Call it george, pet it, etc.
You don’t come over to someones house and bitch about well, everything. If I tell you something such as do not leave my bathroom trash can on the floor as one of my dogs will get into it and smear bloody tampons all around the house, please do what I ask. But no, that was apparently too bloody fucking difficult. Also, if i ask you if you want something from the store, because you’ve known me for a zillion years and you know I drink non-fat milk and eat lowfat/healthy foods, don’t complain when i ASK YOU WHAT YOU WANT FOR DINNER AND YOU AGREE TO WHAT I PROPOSE, STOP BITCHING THAT WHILE IT IS GOOD, XYZ IS WRONG WITH IT. The list went on and goes on.
And it wasn’t just my guest, it was my brother too. My god, my teeth are on edge I’m so pissed off. Yes, I do understand I do not have a job, but I DO work a lot getting these good grades, they do not come easily even if they are level 100 and 200 classes. And you know what else, stop picking on me. Stop making fun of my choices of reading material, music selections, food selections, and DVD selections. the fact that I have faster bandwidth and computer than you do. Stop getting pissed off if you ask me a question that has relation to the Internet and I do not know the answer. Or the fact that my apartment is nicer than yours, that my car actually does not need to be jumped in the morning and that I have enough gadgets support a third world nation. Just because I have something, say OH A TiVo, and I TiVo something for you, this does not mean you can come over when you want, eat my food, and expect to hang out here all afternoon. And stop bringing your fucking dog over here and calling my dogs bitch dogs. Yes, they are 18lbs a piece, but you know, this is THEIR home, and I don’t need your wild beast fucking with them in THEIR home.
I’ve fucking had it with people taking advantage of my generosity. Jesus christ on a fucking pogo stick.
Lets see what else:
Well fuck you to my mother, who, while doesn’t have a job and can’t seem to comprehend that while volunteering might just go against her at her review for SSI, is paying one of my aunts MONEY to clean her apartment. You don’t have a job. The woman is 59yo, let her get money somewhere else.
Fuck you to Paul for calling me up and blaming me for all his problems as to why all the people in NoVa (who, apparently and btw hate my guts) no longer speak to him and everyone is so ‘boring’ and ‘old farts’. Or something.
Fuck you to the ex Danny who states and I quote “I put my life on hold for you”, which I nearly laughed myself out of my chair, really, because you can’t get any funnier than that. And yet who seems to think that since I’m back that I’m now just a “Yahoo IM Booty Call” away. ahaha. Sure buddy. What the fuck ever. Hell would freeze over.
What else, oh well fuck you to boy-who-lives-across-the-sea. It seems, he likes a girl, which is fine. They went out on Valentines day, which is also fine. What is not fine is that we had this huge discussion about the probability that if one of us started dating that we would try and maintain our friendship, and now he’s back to ignoring me, again. Right. Who the hell was I fooling? Myself apparently (plus that super secret dream that i had feverently wished you were going to drop to one knee and declare your love to me was just that, a dream. hahaha. boy i’m so rich i kill myself). And we just had this fucking big discussion three months ago and you know, the whole point of being friends is that it IS a two-way street.
and fuck you too to the internet. Recently found someone I’ve been looking for for nearly four years now and now I’ve realised maybe sometimes it’s better to just leave things as they are — in the past where they belong.

BAH!

mother, may i

my mother called me this morning to let me know what was currently going on with her since she had moved to Port Huron. She still gets a bit giddy with the realization that she see’s an ad on television for Port Huron, she thinks to herself how wonderful it would be for her to live there and then reality strikes that she does live there.
Mumsy is becoming the belle of the ball, being the second youngest resident in the independent living apartments she is currently residing in. She goes out, she plays poker, she goes shopping, she’s always on the go. She was lamenting to me that she no longer feels productive anymore and i had to keep reassuring her that she was getting along just fine. I then thanked her for being so damn impatient, passing that trait on to me and making me the anal retentive person that I am today.
A prime example is after we had moved everything yesterday, Alvin and I were in my bedroom unpacking my books. You can tell a lot by what person first unpacks after they move. The three things I was worried about were:
a. coffee machine/grinder
b. the teddy bear I’ve had since i was 3
c. my book collection
Alvin offered to help stack the books into the huge bookshelf i have, when i declined and said no, my anal retentiveness wouldn’t allow it. I couldn’t find the one big box of books i had that i had in my “current reading pile” but started reading About A Boy again by Nick Hornby, after telling Chris it was a load of poo. Well it was a load of poo, but it was a year ago when I read it (after finishing High Fidelity and deciding that the main character was me) and who knows?
Maybe I was wrong.
So far, I haven’t been wrong.
We have no gas and thus nothing to heat up the water heater and we can’t cook. Last night I had to have a shower and stood there under the freezing cold sprays.

rhubarb

man, i need to stop writing these things late at night. I’m getting mahself all confused.
On Sunday, my friend Keth came by packed with her Final Fantasy game, an extra controller to pick me up to head to Andrew’s and Godmomas new place in San Jose. The meeting was a bittersweet one. We met to congratulate Andrew and Gunilla on their new apartment and to say goodbye to me.
I find it hard, in some strange and broken way, to come to the realisation that this week will be the final week I will be in the SF Bay Area. I sat talking with Caroline (Cathleen’s sister) the other night about my 2.5 years here, and in many ways, I can’t quite come to grips with knowing that what I’ve put myself through. I know, personally, that looking back through my discussions with her, that my own life seems so damn ridiculous. How you may ask I know, personally, that if someone related to me about what I’ve been through and what I’ve seen right back to me, I would have said “man, that chyk is on fucking drugs. she’s not trustworthy, independent nor is she even really COOL.” However, ones own assessment of themselves seems to be way harsher than reality. We had a fairly healthy debate about women in technology (ironically, it was four women and two men at the shin-dig) and my basic stance is this: while i believe in the fight for equality for all sexes, women need to stop bitching about what is “owed” and start proving that they are worthy of their own due. I cannot take feminism seriously as long as those who claim to fight for “women” end up reading Cosmo, Vogue and other mags when they are done at the end of the day. ’nuff said.
On that note, i actually got packed this evening — man — three boxes worth of crap and i haven’t hit books, CDs and clothing. I can’t believe how much toys, knickknacks and overall crap i’ve accumulated since i’ve been here.

———–

you know how it is. you start looking at one friends webpage, which means you go to another and yet another. fortunately, i knew two of the people and knew of the third.
two of the pages i quickly skimmed were of course journals. not to the extent of which i have written, but, journals nevertheless (how cool is it to say that i have entries going back to 1996?). Since I knew of the persons, at one time, fairly intimately, it seemed strange to read their entry and feel — nothing.
Not strange perhaps, but more of an “gosh, they got what they wanted — why can’t i?” kind of feeling. not one of jealousy per se, but one of “why is it always THEM that gets the goods and not me?” kind of deal.
Last night on the phone, Paul babbled for some time about music and how it affects us. The strange ironic part of the conversation was that earlier in the evening, Justin and I were on our way back from running errands and I was grooving to NiN’s new cd (which, ironies of ironies CDNow finally shipped two weeks AFTER and I had already went and purchased the cd since I had never received it). I loved watching the back windshield pound to the beat of the bass of “Even Deeper” and Justin looked at me and said “I just don’t get it.” I replied “Don’t get what?” and he said “Music. This does NOTHING for me”. Justin knew, since the beginning of our relationship nearly 2.5 years ago, that music was a huge HUGE mainstay in my life. I used it for many reasons. And there are songs — some of which I’ve stolen from people I’ve met and some i’ve conjured on my own, that makes sense to me. I need the music in my life in order to survive.
but that is not the point and neither is this really.
lately i’ve been feeling detached. i toyed today with ideas of things and nothing. and i’ve been spending like mad (3 lipsticks, 2 pairs of shoes, boots, 4 pairs of pants, 3 shirts, 4 pairs of tights, the checkbook is hurting!). Most people spend their cash on hardware — i look to outfit my wardrobe. I heart being a girl.
I am not copesetic on everything right now. in fact, i’m choosing NOT to think because it’s so much easier than thinking. It hasn’t dawned on me that i’m leaving in 2.5 days.

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