test?

So, last night, who knows why or what I was thinking, I got shit cranked. In front of the new guy. Apparently there was yelling and demanding and then an epic pass out right when he tried to come over as per my demands. According to my cousin, it was laughable. Exactly. Let's all laugh it off and move on. I hope. So we shall see. Two apology texts. 1. When I realized I was passed out when he tried to come over and; 2. After my cousin told me I was yelling. Fingers crossed he can deal with crazy sauce. It's not like I do this everyday. So, perhaps a test. And here's hoping he passes. 'Cause I really want him to.

little sis turns 23

Today is the day, when I was a mere 15 months old, my lovely little sister was born. Two sisters could not look so different, and my paternity began to be questioned and has been ever since that day.

Our love/hate relationship began early, documented faithfully on video. I thought she was my little dolly and loved to undress and dress her and force her to be my sidekick in our cardboard box 'car'. Of course, she had to sit in the back. I'm the driver! She still has a piece of lead in her collarbone from the time I stabbed her with a lead pencil in anger.

She was also always my faithful playmate. We pretended to be indians in our backyard and make face paint by grinding up grass and water. We would go on family ski trips and we'd be in and out of the trees together, me trying to catch up to her death defying speeds. Nickname: 'Lil Tonka. We went to summer camp together--she always the popular one, chasing off the boys.

In High School, she had a reputation to live up to, and poor girl, I wasn't always the best example. We shared clothes, rides to school, burnt CD's, joints and rarely; boys.

Now, 23 years later, I consider us best friends. It took a while. I think it was when we both left home to go to University on opposite sides of the country. We made our own lives, separatley, but missed being together. We needed the distance to realize how much we really liked just hanging out and being there for each other.

I definitley have grown to admire my sister in so many ways. She's been through a lot, and made it through, becoming confident and self-assured-- even if she may not always be feeling that way, she projects that aura and it's very powerful. She forgives herself more than I sometimes do, and is generous with others--sometimes to a fault. She knows her boundaries and is not afraid to tell others when they are infringing on them. She enjoys life, and lives fully in the present--still looking to navigate her future, to become the sucessful young lady (**sniff, I sound like a mom!) she is fully evolving to become. As many of my friends have observed, I'm a better person when she's around. So from the shitty half person I am currently, her being halfway across the world, I am sending my love out to my boobie, wishing her a Happy 23rd Birthday. Things only get better from here babe!

xoxoxo
Your Sis

sober (ish) sex

....is better. Wow. As my momma would say, "You're growing up!" Because finally I realize why getting drunk to get it on is not an ideal situation: You can't remember getting off! I could see the advantage if you were with someone who really sucked in the sack, but when it's good - why block it out? It is however, kind of nice to have a buzz on. You know, a couple of glasses of champagne type buzz - but definitley not a lawnmower (ie. vodka bottle) buzz/roar.

This month has been a constant source of these maturity revelations, and I'm not sure if I should thank the retrograde, or just accept that I'm moving into a different realm. You know when you used to go to the amusement park and see all of the couples together and wish- 'If only I could have someone to hold my hand'. Only you don't realize it's so much more, and will, at that young age, pick almost any guy who's willing to just (and not much more) hold your hand. I finally picked a guy who wants to do way more than hold my hand and I'm seriously surprised, but very happy so far. Who says old habits die hard? I think you just discover new ones, but ones that are much healthier, productive and all the good bullshit you never thought you wanted.

I tried to work my old m.o. for one night with the new guy. And? And, he didn't catch bait and run away screaming, and I didn't feel like it was something I should do anymore. 'Cause I wake up so much happier remembering how great the night before was. So now, I've found a new m.o. and variety is the spice of life-- so here's to hoping I can stick to the change-- and most importantly, enjoy it!

new dating paradigm

Dating when you're an 'adult' sucks. You're busy, you don't want to stay up too late because you have to work the next day and you don't want to get too wasted either (because it really sucks when you're older to be hungover at work). This eliminates the whole 'let's get drunk and make out and get it over with' possibility. Which encapsulates my current quandry. We've been on four dates and not even had an open mouth kiss. I think it's time for some type of drunk date. And I have to mastermind it, because he's just so goddamn nice. I'm not complaining, we're going nice and slow, but if we don't switch it into second gear soon, I'm afraid we might stall.

So, I have two options. 1. Call him on Friday when i'm already tipsy and convince him to come down and meet me and join in the debauch or, 2. Straight up tell him that our next date has to involve getting drunk and making out (or just making out).

I swear to god, when I was younger I could've never imagined that dating be so much work. Thinking up ideas, working around two busy schedules is really challenging. But, fingers crossed, things will get easier once we put it in second gear.....now I just have to figure out how to get there....

mercury in retrograde

........this 'special' astrological phenomenon means mercury appears to be moving backwards and its happening all freaking month. May 8-31 is fated to be rife with personal misunderstandings due to muddling every form of communication and perception we have. Call me crazy for believing in this shit, but I swear -- the feeling like I'm running in water and not moving any where has definitley been a theme this month.

I'm anticipating a clearer head and sense of direction later this month- and I must say 'thank god'! The ambiguous world I've been living in has tested my patience. I can't feel a connection with people- even people I have long-established relationships with. It's like we're talking but not knowing what each other is saying.

As for my writing hiatus-- i can't even discipher what my thoughts mean--- let alone feel the clarity to express them in black and white.

Mercury in retrograde---you're a dirty dirty shame. You're a perpetual morning after. And I really hate you for that. So, here's to next month, and the caffiene finally working the way it should!

toxic cocktail

A writer, a person, a friend, a woman. I wonder why the planes are so flat, paradoxically, I can reach the bottom but not the top. The upwards slope is idealized in a way that makes me wonder what's really up there, and why I keep slipping. Is the peak a construct of society, and the happiness portrayed there simply fiction?

I have anger. Lots of it. I've never been able to figure out where it comes from. Tossing and turning last night after reading John Updike's Seek My Face my flitting thoughts kept me awake, but were more than revelatory.

..............I'm not really interested in what random people have to say to me (unless it's someone I really care about), even if it's some ridiculous story that might have really happened. I put on a good show though. Appropriate 'un huns' and 'reallys?', mixed with eye contact and appropriate questions. Is that even human? Therefore, I detest socializing without a little bit of booze mixed in to numb myself from feeling so exhausted bythe effort required for these encounters.

..............I'm not your typical artist/writer (stereo) type who lives in their own world and is absorbed in it, not affected by external factors. Quite the opposite. I feel too much, think too much, overanalyze and expect too much. This leaves me saddened and perennially dissapointed and unsatisfied- ultimately angry that I can't reach that mythical peak. Blissful ignorance. That place where people are happy and content with what they have and where they're going, and the simplest encounters are enjoyable.

Mix these two and a bit of booze together and you have a recipe for anger. This toxic cocktail takes me from mildly interested and sociable to completely angry and destructive. Starting at the root ingredient means looking at why I'm so mad at the world and expecting less from it. Expecting that I won't find that idealized version, and becoming comfortable with the version I have now.

Or, realizing that Truth is Ugly. My version of reality and reality seems to have a large discrepancy. And I think it's the truth factor. To seek the absolute truth about what kind of world I live in and the life I've created within it, I have to realize that it won't be pretty and won't meet my expectations. Ever.

I think alcohol works to take the blindfold off for me--- it shows me how distorted my perception of things are-- and it scares me. It makes me mad. Because in my world, I create an idolized version of things. The version at the bottom of the cocktail glass is certainly as raw as you can get. The guts, the marrow of how we live, it somehow never satisfies me. Reveling in the everyday workings - interacting with people, enjoying the sunshine, the satsifaction of a nice meal. I'm somehow numb to it. I think back and wonder- why was I not happy at that time?; that time I lived in the most romantic city in the world; that time I wandered the streets of Portugal- free to do as I pleased; that time I was with all of my friends in a bar watching a show. I wonder why I always feel that something's not there--- every moment has a missing piece.

I don't accept things how they are, but how I want them to be. And maybe that's why I write. Maybe I can write the effects of this toxic cocktail out of me, until all of my idealized notions of life are laid bare, splayed on the page naked. Except it's the naked parts, the ugly marrow that seems to come out-- the truth about how I think. Because, I play it well. Life that is. I play to the idealized notion that everyone has of me. Because how can I expect it from the world if I don't play the part? And when the blindfold comes off; the toxic cocktail plays it part? I'm desolate, i'm barren, i'm destructive, i'm angry, i'm sad, i'm ugly--- and maybe, that's the truth.

it destroys me

what we had was dangerous.

the feeling you get when you walk into a dark alley looking for a high. your vision is imparied by the dim lights and the narrow space gives the illusion that you're in a tunnel. the feeling in the pit of your stomach is rushing to your head, giving you the impression that you're already jacked. you believe you'll find what you're looking for at the end, and that it will make you incredibly happy. or at least give you the illusion that that is your reality.

the lines started to blur between illusion and reality. what I thought was real, wasn't, and what I thought was illusion, was, terrifyingly real. our love was like a drug - making me feel good, but knowingly temporary. i thought i could distance myself from the addictive properties. i thought i was always detached from it fully-- always having a backup plan so my lows weren't so, well, low.

so why i'm I still thinking about it two years later?

beacause I always knew, always felt, that we had something different, something that was literally too good to really exist. and when we discovered it did, it was terrifying. like seeing the vortex of a tornado. powerfully beautiful. and it destroyed us. it still destroys me.