i am not a pretty girl

i am not an angry girl
but it seems like I've got everyone fooled
every time I say something they find hard to hear
they chalk it up to my anger
and never to their own fear
and imagine you're a girl
just trying to finally come clean
knowing full well they'd prefer you
were dirty and smiling

and that's all i have to say.
i am almost out of geneseo.

(i want to be more than a pretty girl)

ms. cranky pants

you know what drives me nuts? exclamation points. especially if they appear in droves. exclamation points are only alright when they are appear alone and i only really appreciate them when they're ironic exclamation points. or genuine, which too many exclamation points never are, for-your-information. also, if you're going to use copious amounts of exclamation points the necessity of also writing in caps is totally lost. so there.

ok, now that that's over with...

i got a whopping 3 hours of sleep last night if you can't tell by my crankiness. with the lights on when i was supposed to be writing...

...alright. i have nothing positive or witty to write so im going to go outside and take a nap on the college green because i am too lazy to walk back up to the house. and after class i want to clean my room and lay in my bed and hopefully think about nothing. YYYAAAYYYYYY!!!!!
(say it in the voice, you know which one)

..heh...

iGod

i was getting a little self serious just now in the library. over-thinking things i cannot myself change. wondering why i can't make a mistake once and learn from it. noooo, i have to make the same mistake over and over and bear the consequences. i must not be as smart as i think i am.

so as i am going over these things in my head and procrastinating on the last 3 pages of that paper that's due tomorrow, this girl (who used to work at the cafe with me and was a total bitch) walked up the stairs. i'm sorry, ran up the stairs. and you know what? she fell. and this is the quiet study area, i can't even have my cell phone set to vibrate up here. i had to take a break downstairs, needless to say. and all of this brings me to the conclusion that maybe people falling is really a running joke between me & god. because it always seems to happen in a moment when i can really appreciate it. and how cool would that be..."god" the infamous sends little kristin a message: life is funny if you are looking at it the right way!

we usually refer to this "god" person as the "divine being", jenna & i do. and the divine being always does funny things. here's a good one: last summer i was driving to hport with mary and getting myself all worked up over something--probably a dude--and i had the windows down (cause thats how i roll in the summer, obviously), and a pebble hit me right in the eye. as if the divine being was standing up there on a cloud somewhere and called all his/her comrades over and said, "wait, watch this, this is going to be great," and sent that little bugger down from the heavens to bounce off of my retina. tricky god, aren't you funny?

oh also on the "god" topic". today i was typing too fast and sent the word igod to my sister. iGod. this immediately sounds like a great opportunity for funny things. i'm leaving that open for suggestions (or advertisements, perhaps)...

(and now back to writing 3 pages on crap to meet a quota)

wonder kristin!

i am a superhero. seriously, i have a magical ability. and that is: i get myself into the most extreme situations. i always get out of them, sometimes unscathed. but definitely changed. this past weekend is kind of a blur to me but there are some things i learned that particularly stand out (that and i love making lists):

1- dan jimerson is a master of sweet 80's music. i am the master, but he makes the list.
2- deserted wineries are abundantly awesome.
3- i am kind of afraid of fish. the more there are, the more afraid i become.
4- i am not afraid of mice. i am especially not afraid of frederick the mouse who is my friend and whose life i saved.
5- big dogs see me as competition.
6- creme brulee ice cream is amazing. seriously, it's ben & jerry's, try it.
7- (because i don't want to stop a list at 6, my luck is unfortunate enough) i am friends with more guys than girls for one major reason: guys in general are cooler than girls. and they like me better too.

best scenario of this past weekend: drinking wine with dan and trying to catch the house mouse.
worst scenario of this past weekend: being stuck in alfred, drunk, and finding out that the person I've been seeing for months has been with someone else. also, having to stay at "someone else's" house on the floor. and also, telling "someone else" that their shoes are cute right before you find out they're actually a total skank and made out with your man. oh yes and also, finding this out in a large crowd of people and trying to maintain your cool. AND, having to learn this piece of offensive information only hours after you've been told by the person (whom you trusted) you've been seeing that they have been in repetitive contact with their ex.

so it happened that at 10:30 pm on saturday night i was alone and drunk in alfred. and i was not happy about it. and a girl asked me if i needed a ride anywhere because she had heard the conversation i was having (with my sister about how much my life at that precise moment sucked); she was heaven-sent i swear. then i went back to the party where "that person" and "someone else" were and i made a new friend. and we talked about how great things like green peppers and peanut butter are. he asked if i always liked the kooky guys (in reference to you-know-who, who happened at that moment to be singing a song about girl scout cookies, out loud) and i said yes but i'd prefer if they were honest too. he said he understood and i think he did because he really looked at me. we talked about more random things like body hair and dishware and when we talked we told the whole truth--all of it. because we didn't know each other and we had no reason to lie. and i don't think either of us would even if we did.

later that evening i fell asleep on the couch. my new friend slept on the floor. it was 4:30 in the morning. i know he fell asleep looking at me that night. i could feel it. i couldn't hide being upset anymore, i'd had too many beers and everyone else was passed out, unaware. and i cried. he watched me and i let him. it was the only honest moment i had that entire day and it was with a complete stranger.

that was the most important thing i learned all weekend: honesty does exist. even brutally sometimes. and it will always be there--even at 4:30am when you're wasted and in alfred and you think you're being smothered with a lie. honesty is everywhere.

2 words: temper tantrum

now it's 2:20 and i have a page and a half written in what should be an 8 page document. if writing about shakespeare could physically cause harm to people (which some may argue it has the ability to do) i'd currently be receiving an ass-whooping. i have the following ailments: i am tired. i am irritable. i am hungry and i have a stomach ache. i have a headache. and suddenly i am feeling dizzy. now...do i have these ailments because of some understandable reason or have i created them in my mind as a defense mechanism against an 8 page shakespeare paper?

i'm also feeling like i want to get laid. is it possible that shakespeare could have such an effect on me? and if it is...should i see someone about that?

uuughhhhhhh.

i want to have sex and then sleep for a week. i will wake up when my schoolwork has magically accomplished itself).

pour a little salt we were never here

i'm in the library. i got up at 8am to start my shakespeare paper and now it's 11:23 and i still don't even know what the topics are. i'm listening to bon iver. adam gave me the cd yesterday, and here's how that happened:

but first, a run-through of my day:
yesterday morning i got up & changed my clothes about 1000 times before i found something i felt comfortable enough to give a presentation in. i was almost late because of it. the presentation went really well , except for one oddity. i noticed about halfway through that i had one leg up behind me. you know, like in the movies when they finally kiss and the girls leg kicks up behind her. like that. so, essentially, i looked like a sleeping ostrich the whole time. thank god i was behind a podium. then i went home and took a sweet nap and woke up with the worst smoothie craving ever. i had to go to wegmans and spend too much money on fruit and juice, but oh man was it amazing. shortly after my craving was fed justin & jordie showed up and we had a beer and talked about all the super-uninteresting things that have happened to us since the last time we talked, but i enjoyed myself regardless. i went to dave's and he took me on a motorcycle ride through letchworth at about 7pm. it was incredibly beautiful. and scary. i thought about how going 50 miles per hour with the ground inches away allows a person to think about things they normally couldn't (but that's a whole other blog). we ordered pizza and drank red wine and talked about life, as we do.

and then:
adam drove up. which was alright because i am in a different place and i don't have feelings for adam in the way that i did, finally. but it was strange to see him without all those feelings that were like a veil to my better judgment (which, really, is what they were). and then dave decided he was tired and went to bed and us two were left to our own faculties. we talked about wine and about music. these were two of our most common interests. we talked about food and the future. we avoided all topics that would address what we had. we didn't talk about our mutual friends. we talked about our faults. we sat far away from each other. and i think for the first time in over a year we enjoyed each other for exactly what we are. he treated me like a i was smart and pretty and funny. and believe me, i felt like none of these things when we were together. he showed me his new cd's and a few of them happened to be cd's that i had recommended to him. that also never happened when we were dating. and when we got tired the night was over. we hugged, which was the only sad part (you know, the way people fit together, it's something you don't forget). and then he gave me his bon iver cd. he told me his favorite song on it was #3. that's my favorite. we listened to it twice together.

" i tell my love to wreck it all, cut all of the ropes and let me fall.
my, my, my, my, my, my, my, my...right in the moment this order is tall...
and i told you to be patient, and i told you to be fine, i told you to be balanced,
i told you to be kind...now all your love is wasted and who the hell was i?
now i'm breaking at the britches, and at the end of all your lines,
who will love you,
who will fight,
who will fall far behind?"
~skinny love, bon iver

"well, all i need is the air i breathe...

...and a place to rest my head"

there are a lot of things that i don't like about myself. and there are plenty of things i am bad at: like math and not laughing when its inappropriate. but there are some things i fare well with: i shake hands firmly and i can make a place feel like home even if it's far away. and, for better or for worse, i notice all kinds of unimportant things. i remember the way the furnace sounded in the house i grew up in. when i heard it i used to make my way to the nearest vent and stand on it to get all the hot air for my own two feet. i remember that my dad's fingernails had ridges on them (i looked out the window after i wrote that and a white corvette drove by). i remember that my nana's black station wagon had a disney bumper sticker on it and that my babysitter mary's station wagon had a hump in the roof. i used to think that came from a very tall person sitting in the car, or maybe harry from harry & the henderson's had sat in there once. i remember waiting for my flight to italy there was a woman across the room eating an orange. she was wearing all white and i thought that was a dangerous combination, she spread a napkin out on her lap.

and what do i gain from knowing these things? comfort, is the answer to that. maybe it's a respite for an overactive mind. but i really appreciate the way these very small and non-essential moments make me feel, they're like a framework for my mind. i was thinking about what home meant to me last night when jill, mom, and i were driving to dinner. i don't have a clear picture of what my someday-home will be. but i know how it will feel. like open windows when the evening air starts to cool the temperature. like the string on a fan swinging back and forth. and waking up from a nap in the late afternoon. it will feel like the moment after you've turned off all the appliances and realized that nothing before was ever really silent. like sleeping at the foot of the christmas tree with its light on the first night after you've decorated it. and cold stones on bare feet. the smell of green peppers while you're cutting them. like wet hair and those last beads of water from the shower on your shoulders. it will feel like grass does in the spring when you barely even remember that there was such a thing as "grass" beneath all that white.

i realize that these things get me nowhere and that they're probably just taking up space in my mind where knowledge of linguistics and shakespeare and british literature should be. and maybe it's corny. but these things are really very important to me. and i am grateful for the ability to see them.

FREAK!

so, funny story. i'm off to a great start here at 9:53 am. first of all, last night i dreamed that i was running from lions who wanted to eat me. i even hid behind the refrigerator so they couldnt have me for dinner. this seems like an obvious sexual reference and i'm pretty certain it means that i need more sex.

when i woke up i skipped my first class because we had this thing due and i totally didn't do it (or even realize that i had to do it until about 11 last night, and then it was bedtime). my excuse was that i needed to work on my other paper that is due at 3:30 this afternoon. then i commenced going back to sleep for an hour, which necessitated my skipping my next class also; it's a 100 level music class where we are learning about bob dylan...necessary? i think not.

finally i got up to go to campus and i stopped at the coffee shop on the way. there was a curly haired boy standing in front of me and he turned around and smiled when i walked in. i took this to mean he had a crush on me, obviously--i'm also wearing a skirt which increases these chances. so he got his coffee and went over to the coffee station for his condiments. i got my coffee and i like cream in my coffee so, hey, great excuse. so i meander over to the coffee station and doesn't he look up and smile at me again and say "morning"? oh, he does. if i wasn't so sunburned i'm sure i would have blushed. anyways, i say "morning to you" (greeaaaat) and go to pour some half & half in my coffee. but no, this simple act could not go smoothly. i had to check him out in my peripheral vision at the same time. good idea? i think not. i missed my coffee cup by about an inch and poured it all over the table instead. i'm not talking a little. i mean, i was so consumed in looking at this dude that i poured the amount that would normally go into my coffee, onto the table. then he laughed at me and left. glad that happened.

so me and my (goddamn) coffee were making our way to the library and don't i see my brit lit teacher walking towards me (that's the class i skipped, by the way). and there was no time to turn around and that would be just too obvious, so i pretend that i can't see anything because the sun is glaring in my eyes...which it was, for the record. and this plan goes down like the friggin hindenburg. he smiles at me and says, "deeemaaaareeeee". oh crap. crapcrapcrap. so i gave him my most charming smile and say, "whoops, i was bad" and shrug. cool kristin, real cool. he laughs, thankfully but points his finger. and i use that one so i know that means trouble.

and now here i am, in the library, still not doing my essay. and i know someday, when i die, and people who i barely know find out they'll say "who?" and the answer will be, "you know, that girl."

5 foot tall female seeks a good sleeper

last night i was talking to michelle and (obviously) the boy issue came up. michelle and i have almost nothing in common it seems sometimes--though i love her dearly--and boys are no different. which is great because if we have totally different "types" then we'll never have to get into a cat fight over some jerk. there is one thing we agree on though: no more diapers. no pull-ups. only guys who have advanced into their (oh-so-grown-up) big boy pants. that's right, from this moment on, those of you still wearing your trainers can just forget about it all together.

so we considered the kind of guys we would, ultimately, like to make sweetsweet love to. michelle would like, "someone with tattoos, who's in a band, maybe a rockstar." and i? i have major hopes for a guy who likes to read books, enjoys cooking, and is a good sleeper. that last part is of the utmost importance. those of you who cannot sleep in a nice way are not welcome in my bed. i really like to crawl into bed at night, and just back it right up into a spooning position. i don't like pillows but i will take an arm. i also would prefer to be naked. and if you want to be the little spoon i will try my best to make that work. with a leg over.

i don't want a rockstar, i don't want a prince, a ceo, an astronaut. i just want to snuggle.

this is not a joke, thank you.

i just want something simple. simple and good. with someone who knows who they are and what is important to them (i.e. reading, cooking, and sleeping...oh, and me, yes).

i am drawing the story of how hard we tried

i came to the library for 2 reasons: to get the book i'm supposed to read for my 8:30 class tomorrow, and to print off the essays i'm supposed to edit for tomorrow. they don't have the book and my printing account is, alas, at zero. and i have no cash to boot. so all in all this trip was not a success. however, today was a really sunny day even if it was a little chilly. and sunsets in geneseo are always beautiful. they don't have the brilliant colors of buffalo sunsets but that's because there's less pollution (ha). the sun always sets across the valley, you can see the patches of land as they are divided by the farmers that own them. trees are budding too. it was, more or less, the quintessential vision of a college campus at dusk. and i am so not above that.

perhaps it was the song that i was listening to, but this scene made me feel quite sentimental. not for college or even for geneseo. but you know when you are looking at something, say, a place or a person and you know things are changing. that's how this sunset was for me. i only have a few more weeks of calling geneseo home and that changes my perspective of it. it's a separate entity from me now. i can't define myself by this sunset any longer because i don't live here anymore, for all intents and purposes at least.

i know this drill, i've been here before--this feeling of leaving. and i'm sure i'll feel this way many many times over. in fact i think i know this feeling so very well that i could consider it as it's own kind of space. and that makes me feel better about all the moving and rearranging we do with our lives. it makes me know that in many ways, i am my own space. all these things i feel: emotionally, spiritually, even physically (and all those other -ly's too), it's because of these things that i will always have my own space. no matter where i go or what i do i will occupy this 5 foot tall frame; all five feet of these are mine. the way i laugh, that is mine. that crooked tooth, mine. one time i was told that i smelled good, "smelled like what?" i asked. "like you do." even that is mine. and i get to take those things with me everywhere i go. some days--like this one--it's easy to find comfort in my own bones.

and i'm singing now, "and in each other's shadows we grew less and less tall and eventually our theories couldn't explain it all and i'm recording our history now on the bedroom wall and when we leave the landlord will come and paint over it all" hello both hands. i know you.

i want to write something but i'm not totally sure what to say. i want to write because i have all this stuff in my head and i need to get it out. and i need to get it out because i can't feel like i feel right now for one minute longer.

we'll start with a secret. i'm not very good at keeping them, even when they're my own anyways. the secret is, that i wonder if it's me. i mean, the line has to be drawn somewhere, right? consider the following names: adam, nate, mary, sheena, peggy, cott, greg. i'm telling you, they're dropping like flies these sometimes friends. these were people that i trusted. all people that i loved. and now, not only are they not speaking to me, but they're even going out of their way not to speak to me. now is this coincidence? maybe. or maybe not. maybe if i learned to keep my mouth shut, things could be easier. but hey, i'm pretty certain that's not going to randomly kick in anytime soon. then there's my dad and we won't even get into that feeling of being deserted, that's serious psychiatrist shit. so there's that secret that i'll never speak outloud to anyone but my mother: maybe, just maybe, i am the reason that these people are gone from my life.


do i think this all the time? no. a lot of the time i think that cott is a train wreck with a guilty conscience over dad's death and that she needs someone to blame who isn't herself. i think adam went through an existential crisis and that he could afford to do that because his parents are well off and he was provided with the time and the money for such things to occur. i think nate, mary, and sheena are all kinds of messed up right now and that there's no way out for them that isn't negative. i think peggy and i fought when we were in high school over something stupid and i hurt her feelings and she is still holding a grudge about it, and also that her significant other doesn't want her to give it up and he has that kind of power over her. i think that greg is young and has identity issues and i think that those issues are compounded by his new "situation".


? why? i overanalyze everything for one thing. and also because i am hard on myself. because i set standards for myself that i'll never obtain ever (which i do for other people too, btw).


my mom made me write down a list of ten people that i could call no matter what. people that care for me. here it is: jenna, jill, michelle, joe, kenny, dave, dan, andy, mike, mom. i know that if i called any one of these people at this very moment then they would make themselves available to listen to me bitch and moan. and they'd probably tell me i'm still cool afterwards.


so shouldn't i focus on thoughts like that? the answer to that is yes, absolutely. and the reason that i am not, currently, feeling like i want to concentrate on positive things like the above-mentioned list is because i feel bad. and i feel that way because it's hard to find out that someone you care for feels nothing in return. yes, folks, ouch. and it was a surprise too. "surprise! got you good! everytime i told you how much i cared for you i was lying! all those months! all those poems!" ha. ha. ha.

the sad part, though, is that i don't believe that for one minute. i just don't. i think he's lost a part of himself in the past few weeks. sure, he isn't "sad" anymore, but what is he really? "happy"? doubtful. and what is happiness anyways without an understanding of your own self? who cares about happy if it isn't whole? it's sad to think that someone would wish to pick and choose aspects of their personality. as if our (maybe) undesirable qualities were in any way less important to ourselves than even our most endearing. how could i expect someone who can't love themself (for who they actually are, even on shitty days) to love me?

or hey, maybe i'm just expecting too much again.

my, how you've changed

yesterday was a good day. there was barbeque, letchworth, genny cream ale, the office, cards, and good company. it all seems so simple. it was fun and it was easy. just like that.

sometimes i forget that fun can happen so easily. i think thats because i've had too little of it lately. i've decided that i like simple. everything has been so extremely complicated lately, with things at the house and with greg.

and with greg. this is an interesting one because i don't actually think things are complicated between us. i just think that he makes them complicated with his constant push and pull, his ups and downs. he keeps saying he just wants to "go with the wind". but he doesn't understand what that means. or maybe it's just a nice way to say "i'm too busy to be bothered by your company" and he isn't as great as i've made him out to be in my mind. in his last relationship he told his then girlfriend that he could see her one time a week. he always emphasized this when he told the story "one time". he'd even hold up his finger as if i needed a reaffirmation of what "one" means. and lately he's been too "busy" to see me...except for one day a week. even when he calls he needs to tell me how busy he is. i think this is a way to justify his poor behavior. but you know what, i'm not that girl. i'm not going to jump to see him once a week. i will not digress to that level. if he wants a girl who will fawn all over him and act like he's a prince (even when he clearly is not behaving like one), then i'm sure he will have no problem finding some pretty girl out there to do it for him. but that girl is not me. and thank god for that; i think it's called integrity.

i remembered something last night. i remembered that i am fun. that i am a good person to spend time with and people do actually want to spend time with me. so here's to good times with people that i love and who love me back (we have so much to look forward to).

so steady as she goes (are you steadynow?)

so this morning when i woke up i got that sinking feeling in my stomach. my response? clean everything. everything i own is clean: my apartment, car, clothes. even the refrigerator. and then i went grocery shopping. and i decided that although i genuinely love grocery shopping, it's not particularly conducive to being single.

the minute you walk in the door the size of your shopping cart must be selected. now i'm not sure when exactly this happened (although it was probably just in time for me to become single), but there are now what i like to call "single people carts". these are a necessary evil for the shopper who can't quite fill up the smaller carts and who really doesn't feel like carrying a basket either. the single shopper cart, this is the one i select. so i walk into the store and since i've been eating a lot of spinach lately so i though i'd pick up a bag. now, there are about 15 different bags of spinach to choose from and there are various prices. i'd like to pick the most economical bag of spinach because the only consistency in my life is that i'm poor. but in that case i have to buy mass quantities of spinach that will just rot in my refrigerator and make me clean it out later. so i buy the smaller bag for maybe 50 cents cheaper. then i decide i'd like some salmon because i've been on this health kick lately and it's good for me. so i wait maybe 2 minutes at the counter (which is actually a long time in wegmans), probably because the man can't see me over the display, and i order a salmon filet. "just one?" he asks and smiles, knowingly. he might as well just had said, "oh right, you're single!", with a grimace on his face and a wedding band on his finger. i finished up my shopping with the utmost concern as to how much i was spending (which, seriously, is always more of a concern when you're single) and trying to avoid having my heels run over by the moms with their large carts so full they can't even see over the top of them.

this is all incredibly petty, i realize this. and i really do like to grocery shop, i just liked it better when adam and i were living together. there was a routine, sunday evenings we went grocery shopping. we ate sushi first. we used the medium cart and took turns pushing. we conspired about what we were going to cook that week. all kinds of extravagant things that i would almost never cook just for myself (take today, for example, i had bread and cheese. and juice, if that counts). then he'd get the car and pull it up and we'd take everything home and climb the 3 flights of stairs to our apartment in buffalo, and trying to do it all in one trip at that. and then we put everything away, together.

now, don't get me wrong, this does not mean i miss adam. i truly do not. but i do miss the companionship we had. it made home feel so full, that bond. that's what i miss. and i'm sure i will have it again at some point. but that's the distant future. even if i did have a boyfriend we still wouldn't have that bond. things in new relationships are just too tumultuous for that kind of thing. it doesn't really make me sad because i'm pretty good at being single too. it was just such a good feeling. i think that if you can really enjoy grocery shopping with someone at the same time every week then you must be on to something.

life's what i got, it's within my reach

today i was running late for lunch and didn't have time to dry my hair.  which, i'm not gonna lie, was a little upsetting (because i just got it cut and colored and it looks fabulous).  so i drove there with all the windows down.  and combed my fingers through my hair the whole way.  by the time i got there it was completely dry.  i think it was a defining moment in my life.  at that moment i really understood.

that's all i'm ever going to be.  and i like the idea of that.

this could be crap, but im really feeling it

the last two days have been quite interesting. i'm not even sure where to start. but i think i have a good idea of where i want it to go and so i will start from there.

last night i went out with ryan, who has successfully avoided me since my last altercation with adam. and it was a surprisingly normal evening. it kind of makes me laugh because we all sequester ourselves and our thoughts to a point that we think we are the only ones having them. and that couldn't be farther from the truth. the ability to be genuine and honest is severely lacking in my generation, not only in regards to other people but also to ourselves. my generation lives inside of a language that was developed by our parents. and our lives exist in a context that is completely new and different. all of a sudden it seems ridiculous to me that i have friends who can't admit that they are gay. they can't "come out". they can't verbally admit that their world exists outside of the typically accepted realm. why don't we have a language that allows for such things to occur, such things to be said even, that doesn't inherently denegrate them? why can't i tell anyone that my father committed suicide without them feeling awkward? just think about how that is said... you can murder someone, you can die, but you can't suicide. you have to "commit" suicide. think about the implications of that. we have outgrown our language. when we do things that don't easily conform to the guidelines of the accepted form of language we feel like those things are wrong. we feel alone and fucking frustrated.

we do have labels though. like, bipolar. a doctor could provide you with a check list (yes or no questions) and then they could label you as if that made a difference. it scares me. if i wanted to be labeled i'm sure there'd be no end to the negative feedback i'd get. alcoholic. depressed. unstable. so we do have a some kind of new context but it does the same thing the past one did..hordes us all into thinking that there are ways of being.

ugh.

it's not even our fault if we aren't honest. we don't know how to be. we don't know how to speal honestly, if speaking honestly needs to be done outside of the context to which we are accustomed.

oh no. oh no oh no oh no.

so here i am again. this'll be quick i promise.

i broke my 2 month streak today. that is, my 2 month no-speaking-to-adam-under-any-circumstances streak. but it wasn't my fault. he was online. he's never online. he said "kristin"...oh god, no not now. ha. "adam". he asked if we could have an internet conversation. those are acceptable, then i don't have to make eye contact with him. that was always the tough part anyways. he said he was just wondering how i was doing. well GREAT! obviously. no one tells their ex-boyfriend they've been feeling sad and just broke up with their new boyfriend. ugh. so unfair.

seriously, not fair. i'm supposed to be successful with a loving boyfriend and ten pounds lighter when talking to him. where is the justice? ha.

but i was good. it was chivalrous and short (nothing like our actual relationship) and now it's over and i'll probably never see him again. we can hope so (he's my monkey wrench, i always come undone).

this is not a joke, it's the funny thing about birds, again

the scary part about this whole blogging thing is that everyone gets to know how i am feeling. which means they know i can run hot and cold. which is true, i just usually like to monitor it in the public arena. the other scary thing about blogging is that this is my second one today, which means that perhaps i have replaced smoking with blogging. it's entirely possible. at least i'm not getting cancer from doing it.

so today in shakespeare my teacher (who is kind of known for being clumsy), tripped over something on the floor, threw his arm up in the air and then tried to correct his footing with his opposite foot. which tripped on the same object as the first one did, causing the other arm to go straight up in the air. and his face, oh god, his face. the fear in it. in that instant he realized not only that he was falling but that he was doing it in front of 30 undergrads. how wide his eyes were. he managed to correct the issue but not until after a loud yelp and some reddening of his face. now this is a problem for me because, as you can judge from my page, i have a real penchant for people falling. i mean i really love it, i just can't get enough. so when the professor stood up and made up excuses for tripping and the whole class was allowed to laugh, i did. and then after everyone stopped laughing, i continued to laugh. and then i actually went as far as to laugh harder. we are talking can't stop, turning red, trying to contain it and then bursting out sporadically kinds of laughter. and it just so happens that my teacher is the head of the english department too. which only makes it funnier. i'm even laughing right now just thinking about it.

i am going to take it as a sign. the point is this: every one of us is a fool. think about how mortifying it would have been for my professor if he had bit the dust in front of all his pupils. word would have spread around the department like a friggin tidal wave. his colleagues would have known before he could pick himself up. but goddamn it was funny. goddamn.

it was like the divine being saying stop taking yourself so seriously, it's going to be fine, and if it's not then at least it'll be funny.

needs a hug like whoa

it's sunny out today. not very warm, but it'll still permit me to wrap myself in blankets and sit on the porch. i didn't go buy a pack of cigarettes, just so you know (although it took all my fortitude not to). and i think i know what the problem is here, with me.

the problem is that i don't do anything amazing and i have before. and i haven't done anything really great in a long time. since my dad died i've been getting by. i've been getting out of bed and going to school and trying to get something solid into my life. and i have really failed miserably at all three of those things on occasion. fortunately i still have a sense of humor but that can definitely get a little sardonic at times. the fact is that i used to believe in myself so strongly that i feared doing nothing, i would think "at least i have myself". and that has changed, that is the problem.

my dad's death changed me at my very core. not all for the worse. but it made me afraid of myself. you know the saying, "the apple never falls far from the tree". it's one of those things you never say out loud (thankfully this isn't really "out loud" nor is it to anyone exactly) but one of the things i'm afraid of is that i will get it all together and then i will destroy it. and i will hurt everyone i care for. that's my fear. that no matter what i do i am inherently going to fail. i am afraid of becoming my father, and my mother too.

so now it's out there. i guess it's probably not that uncommon amongst people of my age. deep breath.

be cool bitch, be cool

i am numb.

i actually don't even know what to say but i know if i don't write something i'll lose it. i won't cry. that's not what i mean by lose it. i think it just means i'll buy a pack of cigarettes and lay in my bed and listen to my heart as it beats out of my chest.

uh oh, i stopped typing for a few seconds and it almost hit me.

ok i might cry. but i'm in the library so that wouldn't be very helpful.

when we were in the car all i could think was "we're almost home almost home just keep calm almost home". and then we got home and he tried to hug me and i couldn't do it. but god did i want to. i wanted to put my hands on his chest and tell him every thing's ok and i love you. but i couldn't do that either. i turned my phone off after he left and i've looked at it every 2 seconds since then and considered turning it back on. but i know i shouldn't.

what i should do is leave. just go. i really have no reason to stay here, or anywhere in the vicinity of here. i'm 22. schools almost over. i don't have a full time position clearly lined up. i could leave easier at this minute than ever before. i could get up from this chair and go right now. it'd fuck up this semester but who really gives a shit. i know i don't, if i had ever really cared about school it'd be over by now. so what do i do?

stay or go?

what would my dad tell me to do?
he'd have told me to come see him.

the circles that we move in

i had a better day today than i've had in over 2 weeks.

funny story, so immediately after i typed that all the smoke alarms went off in the house. no joke. and i'm too short to reach them on a chair.

aaanyways, i woke up really early this morning to drive back from Bonas. i watched the sunrise in the car. went to class. cleaned. did grocery shopping. did all my laundry. i was a really good girl today. and i wore a skirt too. even though there's a "wind warning". ha.

also i had to workshop the first 3 pages of my thesis today and i thought maybe my heart would burst. but it went well. it's funny because after 5 years of college i barely remember how to speak in my own voice when i'm writing something longer than a page or so. and it's because of school; all that "academic" writing i've done. now when i just write it takes me twice as long and i worry excessively over the cheesy factor. i'm not good with that kind of stuff, it really puts me off. i'm the same way with, say, any conversation having to do with relationships. i really like you is about where i cut off.

which is good. cause i'm only 22.

my only plans for the evening (outside of painting my now very pretty pretty fingernails thankyouverymuch) were to watch hell's kitchen. i feel a little sad that i am admitting that publically. but it's true. and i really enjoyed it to boot. this is the third season and i watched both of the two priors. i think i have a penchant for it because of the associations my mind makes while i watch it. it reminds me of my last apartment during summer (when it was the best, with all the doors open and the cats coming and going). and it reminds me of watching it with jill when she was in the hospital. i know that doesn't sound very fun, but you know what, it was somehow comforting to be there. with everything that had happened it seemed easier to be in the hospital where everything revolves around getting better and not what is going to inevitably occur once you leave that secure place. i also have an unnatural curiosity with hospital food. that is to say, i really like it (which is actually the curious part).

more tomorrow. now its time to eat cookie dough ice cream (which isn't going to be as tasty as it sounds because somebody ate all the cookie dough out of it before i had the chance--which is really irksome cause that's my strategy).

redo of first "real" blog...short version

yesterday i made my first addition to this page ever. and then my sister jillian deleted it. thank you jillian. killllll. ha.

regardless, there are a few reasons that this page exists. The first reason is that i really just like to say the word blog. blogblogblog. yes, fun every time. and now i get to use it more consistently. also, i am bored in my life, as it were, and need an outlet. also, the crazy levels have been high lately and i think this might help me maintain some perspective, writing will in any case.

the other thing that i'd like to say as a preface is that not everything in this blog is going to be worth reading or knowing. i'm sure most of it will be straight up crap. but i'm going to do it anyways, just because i can.