I had a lot to say
that I probably should have said when they came into my head, but I get really anal retentive about not blogging twice in one day, and then my head gets all filled up and I start losing things.
Is it possible to be a fan of a single song? I am a huge fan of the song "Mad World" and I get the greatest pleasure listening to all of the different versions of the songs I can find, especially when they're very new or unique, or when they're done by awesome amazingly talented people like The Dresden Dolls.
I've been thinking a lot about things I miss. It started out of the blue one day, when Chris and I were going to visit his parents, and I was just kind of staring out the window in the car. I started thinking about my one friend Kristy Long. She was like the biggest stoner I ever knew, and she always wore tie-dyed teeshirts, and one day she gave me a giant poster of a Jerry Bear she had drawn for no reason at all. I met her in tenth grade and we took turns picking on our horrible Earth and Space Science teacher who firstly couldn't teach and secondly was one of those crazy people who thought that keeping an open mind meant believing that the earth could have possibly been created 5,000 years ago and constantly got red and blue shift confused. I think we got him fired after he suspended me when I tried to explain to him that doing those molecular models where you have to draw like five million circles with five million tiny electron dots in them all revolving evenly around a nucleus was pointless because electrons don't behave that way at all; they don't even obey the laws of physics as we know them (they don't). One day in health class she came and sat beside me and she didn't say anything, which was strange, because Kristy was always a really big talker. I asked her what was wrong and she said that her friend had been shot and was dying, and what was worse was he wasn't even the target of the shooting. He was just some bystander.
And then one day Kristy just disappeared. I think maybe she had said something about her mom, but one day she just didn't come back to school. I never saw her again after that, or heard from her. Sometimes I'll search her name on Facebook or Myspace, but nothing has ever come up.
Then one night last week I was offering to read tarot cards to anyone who happened to see the message on whatever social networking sites I posted them on, and my friend Amanda happened to pick up on it. I did her cards and we started talking and she told me her cat was dying, which got me thinking about the only cat that was every really my cat. His name was Friskey and I got him as a fifth birthday gift. I picked him because he was the runt of the litter and he had no tail. :) I had him for ten years, and then I went to live with my dad and my mom kept Friskey at her place. I visited my mom about once every two weeks in those days, and one day I started to notice that Friskey was feeling thin, like I could feel his ribs when I held him. After Friskey overcame his runty-ness, he had always been a huuuuuuge cat. Fat and big and lazy. I told my mom and she told me it was no big deal, she didn't notice anything.
Just at midnight, on my sixteenth birthday, my cat was diagnosed with stomach cancer, and there was nothing we could do but watch him die. I wasn't there when he died, and I don't regret it, because I don't think I could have handled that.
I guess it's just a testament to how much things can change. I mean, my fiance isn't the guy I dated for nearly three years, I'm not living in the dorms like I planned to do for all four years of college because it meant I wouldn't have to pay bills, and most of my closest friends are new friends that I've met in the last year and a half or so, even though there as close as I could ever wish them to be, and I've learned so many new, wonderful things from them. I don't have any pets, I smoke, I worry about getting in shape, all things I said I would never do. And I'm happy. I mean, I make mistakes. But shit happens.
My good pretend internet friend Natalie Dee once said in one of her older Ask Natalie segments, "When you make a mistake and you're worried it's going to fuck something up, you have to think to yourself, 'Is this going to affect my life in ten years?' If the answer is no, you just move on". That's sort of how I've always lived my life.
Oh, well. Have errands to run tomorrow so I'm going to stay up all night and catch up on old blog entries. Obviously.
Is it possible to be a fan of a single song? I am a huge fan of the song "Mad World" and I get the greatest pleasure listening to all of the different versions of the songs I can find, especially when they're very new or unique, or when they're done by awesome amazingly talented people like The Dresden Dolls.
Click to viewI've been thinking a lot about things I miss. It started out of the blue one day, when Chris and I were going to visit his parents, and I was just kind of staring out the window in the car. I started thinking about my one friend Kristy Long. She was like the biggest stoner I ever knew, and she always wore tie-dyed teeshirts, and one day she gave me a giant poster of a Jerry Bear she had drawn for no reason at all. I met her in tenth grade and we took turns picking on our horrible Earth and Space Science teacher who firstly couldn't teach and secondly was one of those crazy people who thought that keeping an open mind meant believing that the earth could have possibly been created 5,000 years ago and constantly got red and blue shift confused. I think we got him fired after he suspended me when I tried to explain to him that doing those molecular models where you have to draw like five million circles with five million tiny electron dots in them all revolving evenly around a nucleus was pointless because electrons don't behave that way at all; they don't even obey the laws of physics as we know them (they don't). One day in health class she came and sat beside me and she didn't say anything, which was strange, because Kristy was always a really big talker. I asked her what was wrong and she said that her friend had been shot and was dying, and what was worse was he wasn't even the target of the shooting. He was just some bystander.
And then one day Kristy just disappeared. I think maybe she had said something about her mom, but one day she just didn't come back to school. I never saw her again after that, or heard from her. Sometimes I'll search her name on Facebook or Myspace, but nothing has ever come up.
Then one night last week I was offering to read tarot cards to anyone who happened to see the message on whatever social networking sites I posted them on, and my friend Amanda happened to pick up on it. I did her cards and we started talking and she told me her cat was dying, which got me thinking about the only cat that was every really my cat. His name was Friskey and I got him as a fifth birthday gift. I picked him because he was the runt of the litter and he had no tail. :) I had him for ten years, and then I went to live with my dad and my mom kept Friskey at her place. I visited my mom about once every two weeks in those days, and one day I started to notice that Friskey was feeling thin, like I could feel his ribs when I held him. After Friskey overcame his runty-ness, he had always been a huuuuuuge cat. Fat and big and lazy. I told my mom and she told me it was no big deal, she didn't notice anything.
Just at midnight, on my sixteenth birthday, my cat was diagnosed with stomach cancer, and there was nothing we could do but watch him die. I wasn't there when he died, and I don't regret it, because I don't think I could have handled that.
I guess it's just a testament to how much things can change. I mean, my fiance isn't the guy I dated for nearly three years, I'm not living in the dorms like I planned to do for all four years of college because it meant I wouldn't have to pay bills, and most of my closest friends are new friends that I've met in the last year and a half or so, even though there as close as I could ever wish them to be, and I've learned so many new, wonderful things from them. I don't have any pets, I smoke, I worry about getting in shape, all things I said I would never do. And I'm happy. I mean, I make mistakes. But shit happens.
My good pretend internet friend Natalie Dee once said in one of her older Ask Natalie segments, "When you make a mistake and you're worried it's going to fuck something up, you have to think to yourself, 'Is this going to affect my life in ten years?' If the answer is no, you just move on". That's sort of how I've always lived my life.
Oh, well. Have errands to run tomorrow so I'm going to stay up all night and catch up on old blog entries. Obviously.