random brain crap
So, here I sit, at 3:30 in the damned morning, wrapped up in my Corpse Bride blankie in my bed at my mom’s thinking about crazy shit and trying to not let my sinuses run straight out of my head - my, but it is quite dusty in here. I’m vacuuming as soon as they’re both awake; I can’t keep coming back to sneeze my brains out.
Although, quite frankly, I wasn’t planning on coming back nearly this often, anyway. I haven’t spent a whole weekend at my apartment yet - I’ve been in Vallejo because Ramil wanted to come home. Last week, I wanted to be here. I’ll want to be here next week, especially because the Pirate Festival is here. HOWEVER, I really didn’t want to come home this weekend. But since Ramil decided he was going home, I decided to go too, because I don’t want to stay in our apartment all weekend by myself when we haven’t even spent a weekend there together yet. I’d be terrified. But, it’ll be nice being home this weekend anyway - or at least, Saturday, since we’re leaving around noon on Sunday.
I want to stop off at the Skechers outlet in El Cerrito on our way back to SF because I really want those freakin shoes!! I want. And that place is more on the way than trying to find the store in SF after we get back there; you can see this one from the freeway. It’s practically under the freeway.
I did something that can be considered brave, stupid, pathetic and desperate, all at once. I sent Amber an email, telling her I want to be friends again. It was a very bad email, because it sounded very stiff and went in circles and I don’t think it conveyed very well that I miss her a lot, rather than I am just lonely and want to fill the GAPING HOLE I’ve got left from her. Yes, that second, probably more likely interpretation - given what a crap email I wrote - is very inaccurate, as I don’t want anything to fill that STILL-BLEEDING, CAVERNOUS WOUND except her anyway.
Why the hell would I even put myself though the agony of approaching someone who I’ve cried over so much and have ‘gotten over’ losing from my life? Melanie, you may say, this is almost as if you decided to try to be friends with someone who broke your heart maliciously - why do such a stupid thing?! Well, I would reply, I feel that, for once, the possible pain of rejection is worth the effort. Unlike I was able to fucking realize while we still were friends, I can’t keep doubting my damned self all the time, and I need to just do what I need to do, without apologies.
I wonder if I apologized in the email? I know I didn’t plan to, but who knows what I actually spat out. I know I ended with some crap like, ‘reply at your leisure’ - what the fuck is that? She called me on my birthday and was able to jump into a semi-normal (for the-duo-formerly-known-as-us) conversation about not drinking Bananas Foster were I to begin drinking. FURTHER, she was able to bust out with, “Number three is awesome! And four! And [seven]” as if we had just been talking about listening to the latest Linkin Park CD the night before. I KNEW WHAT SHE WAS TALKING ABOUT! IT WAS NORMAL!! IS THAT KIND OF THING ALLOWED TO HAPPEN (anymore, still, after all this, despite…)?!
So, I sent the email because I thought that if we could interact like we used to, we could be friends again, and talk, and hang out. I know it wouldn’t be like it used to be. I’m prepared for that. I’m even okay with that, as I acknowledge how I fucked up that good thing while I had it.
I guess this proves I’ve changed from how I was in adolescence, even if vaguely and imperceptibly. During high school, and just after, I had urges to just let old things go and reconnect with people who I had been close to but weren’t anymore due to whatever fights and differences we’d had in the past. But I couldn’t act on those things. I had ample opportunity, especially during high school, to reach out and make the attempt, but I didn’t. I was scared. I did it this time. Though, now that I think about it, is that really an indication of my growth, or just of Amber’s importance to me? I’d like to think both, but the self-doubting part of me whispers that’s it’s the latter. I don’t think it really matters. It’s a difference, and one I like so far, so it doesn’t matter. It’s all good.
Vaguely related - I feel kind of guilty. Why? I’m not keeping up with my “Roomies 4 Life,” Marie and Chelena. They’re nice and fun and all that, but quite frankly, I didn’t get too long-term attached. During the semester, they were all I had, plus the close proximity of living with them, and the shared trauma of being new transfers to the school, but I really think that my relationship with both of them was mainly superficial. They became good friends, as far as I could tell, but … Well. Yes.
I know I’ve mentioned it before, but I’m really doubting the possibility of close personal connections with people other than those I already have them with. Like, my coworkers are nice but I’m not going to confide in them. Not about really important stuff, anyway. It’s not just that I feel like I can’t - I don’t want to. I know that part of this is that we’re very different outside of our jobs, and it’s in such a way that I don’t want to bridge it. I don’t party. I don’t drink. I don’t really want to hang out with people who make those things their lifestyle.
I miss three sets of people: my family (Mommy, Issa, Jody, Michael and Meri), my VHS friends (Eunice, JP, Julian, Cindy, Domilyn) and my Rasputin buddies (Brian, Caroline, Mike, Anna, etc). I hardly see or talk to those latter two sets of people because of scheduling difficulties. Hell, I don’t talk to my family as much as I should either. Or as much as I want to.
INTERJECTORY NOTE: Did you know that some of the easiest and most painful muscles to cramp, twist or sprain are the small ‘voluntary’ muscles in your feet and hands? I know this for a fact because I just did something amazing painful to my foot by stretching it the wrong way for the fifth time tonight. FUCKING MOTHER OF GOD, THIS SHIT HURTS!!!
Damn. One bad thing about staying up this late (it’s now about ten after four in the morning) is that I’m now really freaking hungry. My tummy cries out for sustenance. I think I have Poptarts in my bag from work, actually, but maybe I shouldn’t eat those…they’re only from this morning…
This is what I’ll be doing next Friday, too! Hopefully though, I’ll have internet access from the room I’m going to be sitting in during my overnight shift. In fact, it would be over about now - they go 8p to 4a. Obviously, I can do it if I have a bit of a nap in the middle of the day, or a book I really want to finish, both of which I had today. I’m done with the book.
Next weekend, due to my night shift and wanting to go to the Pirate festival, is going to make me feel like I’m in high school again - weekends of staying up til dawn for no good reason other than talking about random crap, sleeping for a few stolen early-morning hours, and then continuing to run around like crazy for the rest of the weekend. Those were fun times.
I still have stuff here at my mom’s, even though I took all of the important stuff. I’ve got remnants of clothes still dirty. I need to do laundry at my apartment too… The thing is, most of my laundry in both places consists of sheets and towels. The towels will sty with me in Daly City, but I’m going to bring most of the sheets back to the V for my sister to use if she wants. I’ll offer the extra-longs to Chelena, since she’ll be in dorms next semester, but I doubt she’ll want then either.
4:15a. I’m starting to get tired. I’m glad my stomach quieted down; I should probably force myself to sleep before it wakes up again. And my foot is being stupid and tensing up again. OWWW.
ANYWAY. I guess wish me luck with the Amber thing. I hope she replies and agrees that we can start again, a little.
Ciao,
Melanie
Although, quite frankly, I wasn’t planning on coming back nearly this often, anyway. I haven’t spent a whole weekend at my apartment yet - I’ve been in Vallejo because Ramil wanted to come home. Last week, I wanted to be here. I’ll want to be here next week, especially because the Pirate Festival is here. HOWEVER, I really didn’t want to come home this weekend. But since Ramil decided he was going home, I decided to go too, because I don’t want to stay in our apartment all weekend by myself when we haven’t even spent a weekend there together yet. I’d be terrified. But, it’ll be nice being home this weekend anyway - or at least, Saturday, since we’re leaving around noon on Sunday.
I want to stop off at the Skechers outlet in El Cerrito on our way back to SF because I really want those freakin shoes!! I want. And that place is more on the way than trying to find the store in SF after we get back there; you can see this one from the freeway. It’s practically under the freeway.
I did something that can be considered brave, stupid, pathetic and desperate, all at once. I sent Amber an email, telling her I want to be friends again. It was a very bad email, because it sounded very stiff and went in circles and I don’t think it conveyed very well that I miss her a lot, rather than I am just lonely and want to fill the GAPING HOLE I’ve got left from her. Yes, that second, probably more likely interpretation - given what a crap email I wrote - is very inaccurate, as I don’t want anything to fill that STILL-BLEEDING, CAVERNOUS WOUND except her anyway.
Why the hell would I even put myself though the agony of approaching someone who I’ve cried over so much and have ‘gotten over’ losing from my life? Melanie, you may say, this is almost as if you decided to try to be friends with someone who broke your heart maliciously - why do such a stupid thing?! Well, I would reply, I feel that, for once, the possible pain of rejection is worth the effort. Unlike I was able to fucking realize while we still were friends, I can’t keep doubting my damned self all the time, and I need to just do what I need to do, without apologies.
I wonder if I apologized in the email? I know I didn’t plan to, but who knows what I actually spat out. I know I ended with some crap like, ‘reply at your leisure’ - what the fuck is that? She called me on my birthday and was able to jump into a semi-normal (for the-duo-formerly-known-as-us) conversation about not drinking Bananas Foster were I to begin drinking. FURTHER, she was able to bust out with, “Number three is awesome! And four! And [seven]” as if we had just been talking about listening to the latest Linkin Park CD the night before. I KNEW WHAT SHE WAS TALKING ABOUT! IT WAS NORMAL!! IS THAT KIND OF THING ALLOWED TO HAPPEN (anymore, still, after all this, despite…)?!
So, I sent the email because I thought that if we could interact like we used to, we could be friends again, and talk, and hang out. I know it wouldn’t be like it used to be. I’m prepared for that. I’m even okay with that, as I acknowledge how I fucked up that good thing while I had it.
I guess this proves I’ve changed from how I was in adolescence, even if vaguely and imperceptibly. During high school, and just after, I had urges to just let old things go and reconnect with people who I had been close to but weren’t anymore due to whatever fights and differences we’d had in the past. But I couldn’t act on those things. I had ample opportunity, especially during high school, to reach out and make the attempt, but I didn’t. I was scared. I did it this time. Though, now that I think about it, is that really an indication of my growth, or just of Amber’s importance to me? I’d like to think both, but the self-doubting part of me whispers that’s it’s the latter. I don’t think it really matters. It’s a difference, and one I like so far, so it doesn’t matter. It’s all good.
Vaguely related - I feel kind of guilty. Why? I’m not keeping up with my “Roomies 4 Life,” Marie and Chelena. They’re nice and fun and all that, but quite frankly, I didn’t get too long-term attached. During the semester, they were all I had, plus the close proximity of living with them, and the shared trauma of being new transfers to the school, but I really think that my relationship with both of them was mainly superficial. They became good friends, as far as I could tell, but … Well. Yes.
I know I’ve mentioned it before, but I’m really doubting the possibility of close personal connections with people other than those I already have them with. Like, my coworkers are nice but I’m not going to confide in them. Not about really important stuff, anyway. It’s not just that I feel like I can’t - I don’t want to. I know that part of this is that we’re very different outside of our jobs, and it’s in such a way that I don’t want to bridge it. I don’t party. I don’t drink. I don’t really want to hang out with people who make those things their lifestyle.
I miss three sets of people: my family (Mommy, Issa, Jody, Michael and Meri), my VHS friends (Eunice, JP, Julian, Cindy, Domilyn) and my Rasputin buddies (Brian, Caroline, Mike, Anna, etc). I hardly see or talk to those latter two sets of people because of scheduling difficulties. Hell, I don’t talk to my family as much as I should either. Or as much as I want to.
INTERJECTORY NOTE: Did you know that some of the easiest and most painful muscles to cramp, twist or sprain are the small ‘voluntary’ muscles in your feet and hands? I know this for a fact because I just did something amazing painful to my foot by stretching it the wrong way for the fifth time tonight. FUCKING MOTHER OF GOD, THIS SHIT HURTS!!!
Damn. One bad thing about staying up this late (it’s now about ten after four in the morning) is that I’m now really freaking hungry. My tummy cries out for sustenance. I think I have Poptarts in my bag from work, actually, but maybe I shouldn’t eat those…they’re only from this morning…
This is what I’ll be doing next Friday, too! Hopefully though, I’ll have internet access from the room I’m going to be sitting in during my overnight shift. In fact, it would be over about now - they go 8p to 4a. Obviously, I can do it if I have a bit of a nap in the middle of the day, or a book I really want to finish, both of which I had today. I’m done with the book.
Next weekend, due to my night shift and wanting to go to the Pirate festival, is going to make me feel like I’m in high school again - weekends of staying up til dawn for no good reason other than talking about random crap, sleeping for a few stolen early-morning hours, and then continuing to run around like crazy for the rest of the weekend. Those were fun times.
I still have stuff here at my mom’s, even though I took all of the important stuff. I’ve got remnants of clothes still dirty. I need to do laundry at my apartment too… The thing is, most of my laundry in both places consists of sheets and towels. The towels will sty with me in Daly City, but I’m going to bring most of the sheets back to the V for my sister to use if she wants. I’ll offer the extra-longs to Chelena, since she’ll be in dorms next semester, but I doubt she’ll want then either.
4:15a. I’m starting to get tired. I’m glad my stomach quieted down; I should probably force myself to sleep before it wakes up again. And my foot is being stupid and tensing up again. OWWW.
ANYWAY. I guess wish me luck with the Amber thing. I hope she replies and agrees that we can start again, a little.
Ciao,
Melanie