Memory Doesn't Suck

It’s really crazy how much we can associate with someone else.

I have a scar on my nose from my bf loading a box down to me when we first moved in together.. it scrapped me and it’ll always be there and I’ll never forget it.  Once we accidentally knocked heads and now my nose has a tiny bump too. (that one hurt for a while)  I have a scar on my right arm where a crush had scratched me when I was 13 at summer camp because we were wrestling.  A scar on my left leg that goes straight across from when I went to Fred’s show and a drunk 12 year old rammed into me when he was moshing and pushed me into a piano.  So many songs I tie to people.  Like balloons with strings that are infinity long.  I can’t watch Into the Wild without thinking of another ex.  The city of Tustin will never be the same, fuck that place.  Or NorCo when I drove for two hours home crying the entire time.  Or the time we got high at that party and I pulled my hood down real low and we drove home laughing all the way.  When we ate that entire pizza once.  When you read that poem you wrote about me in the car and we kissed for an hour.  To our spot.  To the bottle of wine I threw off a mountain.  To the time you rested your head on my shoulder when we first met, and I knew it was something special.

I think these things, though painful, now can be accepted and remembered with kindness.  They were right when they said it is better to have love and lost. 

Then my mind went dark

I don't really know how to explain it.  How I feel.
Like I'm years back.  I just feel all of the sudden how I did then.
I had a really weird dream about someone I hadn't seen in ages last night.
He's mad at me in most of me dreams, but honestly, he spent a lot of time being mad at me.
In fact, I'm sure, wherever he is, he's mad at me now.

It's a shame we couldn't be friends.
But it's not the first time it's ruined a friendship.
It's a shame I connect with guys a lot.
And then it gets ruined.  I like having guys as friends.
But most of the time an awkward glance or touch is all it takes.
And even though they say "it won't get weird" it always does.
I end up seeing them a few months later at a restaurant and feel guilty.
And then they reject my facebook requests,
that or write angry blogs about how I'm a horrible person because I don't love them.

I don't mean for it to happen.
I feel bad when I miss them.
Or when I realize I still have a ton of books he gave me.
Or that list he wrote of all the movies we should watch.
Or the messages I ignored because they were awkward.

Maybe you were right.
Maybe we can't be friends. :(

Hold your head up high girl.

Hold your glass even higher. 

I was sitting on my steps this evening talking to my mom on the phone.  It's funny how although we are very different, we are very much the same.  A very stupid person once told me that purple has both the colors red and blue in it but you'd never call it either of those colors, and while that was probably the only valuable genuine thing they told me, I still believe it to be very much true.  And in the end I'm glad that I heard it.  I'm glad that I can think about the good (and sometimes bad) qualities that I got but I'm glad that I can cherish the person I've become and thank my parents for it too. 

My mom is a very brave woman.  She's a lot of other things too, she's stubborn and she shuts people out and she has co-dependency issues, I see some of these things in myself.  I too have a tough time opening up to people, I like things slow.  I too can keep my feelings buried deep inside.  But if there's anything I can hope that my mother gave me is bravery, because my god that woman is brave. I really am not sure I would have lasted as long as she has under the circumstances of her life.  Today she told me that she's at a point in her life where she's so ready to just up throw off the bow lines and move to another country and fight for animal rights or try and save the rain forest or just do whatever she so well pleases.  I told her, mom, you do whatever you damn want and you don't let anyone stop you, you have no one to answer to but yourself and I'll support you whatever you do.  I just think the whole idea of it is marvelous and I know my mom would be brave enough to pull it off and I pray that she eventually can and will have the most fabulous of lives!  I really do. 

But in that I get hope, this month has been literally since day one, one of the worst month's ever.. I'm in a bad financial situation, ticket situation, rejected from multiple projects and jobs situation.  It has literally been no's and I'm sorry's and bad news across the board.  But I realized that no matter how bleak there is always hope and bravery.  I've kept my head up before and it's taken me to more exciting places than I'd even imagine.  So fuck it.  I'm damn excited about a possible new volunteer/job position that I don't care, I'm going to let myself know that this will lead somewhere great, I just have this warm buzz about it.  If March came in like a lion it will leave like a lamb.  Frustrations will come but they will pass.  And it their place smiles, and kisses, and travel, and birthday cake. 

To the rest of the year being the best year of my life, cheers! 

My brilliant neighbor Mike

And here I am.  Lying in bed.  Alone.  Blogging.  Getting frightened by my neighbor knocking on my door at 1am.. my pants nowhere in sight.  He kept knocking and before I could think I yelled, "I can't find my pants!!!"  Of all the neighbors, I think I must be the classiest.  Also, I was totally watching Reba and it was loud as shit.  What a double way to embarrass myself.   All he wanted to, I think drunkenly, tell me is that I left my light on in my car.  It disturbs me that he knew what car I owned, I have never seen, let's call him Mike, in my life.  He said his name but I never remember names.  He looks more like a Mike anyways, I can imagine people yelling "Mike you just got iced bro!" at him.. Mike fits.  So yes, Mike my neighbor, who lives in cottage 8, who likes to decide to be friendly at 1am.. and who definitely could possibly be a bro.  I had a friend/co-worker who suspected there were bro's living in his condo complex, once I saw one of them literally fall out of their lifted truck they were so drunk.  Aside from the fact that he probably mowed down five children on his way home it was fucking hilarious witnessing that.  We used to try and come up with possible ways to lure bros to his apartment with trails of monsters and bro hoes.  I don't remember why anyone would think we should discuss bro capturing tactics but I'm weird so whatever.  Anyways, now I think Mike thinks I'm rude for not answering the door for so long.. but really, my dmc shirt was not going to suffice as proper attire.  He'd probably think I was trying to seduce him.  I think he thought I was, even with my pants on, because when I asked him where he lived he replied "WE live in cottage 8."  Making sure to emphasis WE as he held onto the stoop and kind of swung forward.  Yeah he definitely was drunk.. Is this the editorial "we" dude?  Because I ain't seen nobody here but you.. and me.. maybe "we" is a pet bird?  or perhaps a stuffed pillow in the shape of a woman?  Either way I didn't ask where "we" lived you dumb shit.  I asked where YOU live.  If only to try and be nice and curious since you so politely banged on my door at 1am to tell me a tiny light in my car was left on, one I have left on many nights before and has never drained my battery.

I think I'll leave him a gift basket of Smirnoffs and other bro like things (hair gel? axe body spray?) on his porch as a thank you gift..  Or next time I'm drunk and in a good mood bang on his door at 1am.

Hmm that last sentence does sound like I'm trying to seduce him.  Ew. 

The Blanket Clause

So I think when you move in with someone there should be this unspoken blanket "clause".  One my boyfriend doesn't seem to understand at all.  It's called sharing people and it's the first thing they teach us in kindergarten.  Granted it's hard to understand sharing when you're half asleep and dreaming about god knows what and all you want is to be warm.  Every night I hop into bed, grabbing the edge of my blanket, almost burrito-ing the corners around me as if that will secure it, looking like a blanket bitch.  But on more than one occasion I've been woken up because I'm shivering on the edge of the bed.  Said bf, is totally encased, wads of blanket between his legs and whats left falling sporadically over the opposite side of the bed.  Then I look like the dick tugging and tugging until I wake him up with the tugs and the "ummm" "can I?" "blanket" "cold".  Either way, I'm always the one who looks like the jerk, he's waking up to me pulling the blanket off of him like some crazed blanket whore who can't get enough blanket and wants to leave him in the cold because I need my blanket fix.  The problem is it's tough to remedy this without a bear trap or glue or I dunno, epic sleepwalking blanket battles in the middle of the night.  Harumph. 

End of an Era?

This morning somewhere between sleep and dream I mumbled "Today is the end of an era.  How trippy is that?"  I was wrong, it's the end of a decade.  But somehow I also was right, because it seemed like an era, at least to me.

I really wanted to wash clean all of 2010 but the shower at my apartment kind of sucks.. I like it scalding hot which means I get a whole 5 minutes in there.  I guess I'll just take it as it was and hope that I'm not being delirious and feeling like I've been a side track in the way of others destiny.  There's just a lot to be done, on my part, for 2011 and it's not going to be easy.  I need to get out into the sunshine again and start meeting people and places and really get a grasp on the world and my purpose in it.  I need to stop lagging, stop being lazy and tired all the time.  I need to find the energy deep within me that I know I have and re harness it.  When I was 14 I was in cross country, I remember that first day of training, how after 15 minutes I felt I was going to die, to puke and so I was determined to work hard, my coach saw this and didn't make it easy, pushing me along the way, but come the end of the season I was pacing 7 minute miles with room for improvement.  I was voted most improved player for every sport I participated in that year.  I had straight A's and wouldn't let anything stop be, even when I didn't want to do things I sucked it up, sighed, and did it.  I need that same drive back and I felt it so strong then, yet fade and dissipate as I was distracted along the way.  I never went to Stanford Law, I never graduated valedictorian, I never got into film school, many things looking back that I very well could have pushed myself into.  Not that I haven't accomplished anything, it's just tragic that I feel there's a lot more potential in me.  There are people out there who will appreciate me for who I am as well, a fact unfortunately that falls on me far too often, until it's too late and I don't care anymore.  I dunno, as the year closes I'm not in the best of moods because I feel like there was so much potential last year, I felt amazing and now I just feel like the last year was frozen in time, I feel far from amazing.

I need that freedom back.

Filthy Dirty Greasy

I have this horrible sinking feeling in my belly.
And I hope it goes away.
I'll throw it off a bridge.
With a that bag of bricks.
That hit me in the face months ago.

That and this godawful guilt.
I still feel bad about what happened.
I still need to make apologies.
But I'm afraid to.
I know hindsight is 20/20 but I really wish.
That I'd been a little smarter.
It was just a series
of unfortunate event.

And then there was the weird conversation.
I can't believe it would have been five years.
I can't believe the Fonze died.
And I saw you running towards me,
your face smashed with blood.
And I'll keep this memory. 
And never let it go.

Looking around the corner now.
Not back down the hallway.
Ready for a new year, new adventures.
I'll take a long bath.
And wash the grunge of 2010 away.