Life Worth Living

I know I haven’t been here in a while, and if I had any readers, it would matter. It’s a good thing, then, that I dont. I’m not blogging partly because I have nothing to talk about (because going to class and reading a buttload of books every day sure isn’t a hot topic) and I dont like to blog with Rosemary around anyway, because it may lead to “what are you writing?” “Oh…I write a blog” “Really? Can I see?” There’s some things here that I dont want Rosemary to know. To get around this I usually pretend I’m writing an email to my cousin (I click “compose” in Yahoo Mail and write my post, then copy & paste from there) but that doesn’t explain how long I spend writing, and it’s a hassle anyway. I actually have a handful of posts that I’ve half written and just never finished, including a “story” or two, so I haven’t been completely idle, as far as the blogging goes.

Read the rest of this entry »

So I lied.

We didn’t go very far north, and nowhere near Oregon. On the first day we drove up along the coast, stopping before San Francisco and at it, shivering against the cold that was unexpected this time of year. Except that it wasn’t, it being San Francisco, and known for its refreshing (at times infuriating) chilliness.

We  spent the night in San Rafael, and then woke bright and early on Saturday. We spent the rest of that day inching our slow way up the scenic coast, stopping whenever we saw a particularly beautiful stretch of beach. We never made it too far north of Santa Rosa before turning back around again so that the beach was on our right side.

This morning we headed into Wine Country (or Napa Valley) and my parents had a grand time checking out the wineries while my brother and I opted to stay in the car, being as we neither of us had a passion for wine, or grapes, or rows upon endless rows of vines, although they made for a pretty sight, I’ll admit, lush green hills rolling away into forever under an even wider blue sky.

It was beautiful: the sea, the sand, the sky, the grapevines and the greenery. But that’s not the point of this post. This is:

Read the rest of this entry »

I woke up this morning from a dream in which I was waking down Telegraph after getting frozen yogurt with Rosemary. Or something like that. I lay there staring up at the ceiling and I missed it. Goddamn, one day back in SJ and I’m missing it already.

It’s like up there my life is Go, Go, Go! And now? Imagine the sound of one of those cartoon-y screeching halts. Yep.

I haven’t sunk into summer yet. I want to munch on bacon burgers and cheer on Adam Lambert. I want to get my tattoo. I want to do it. My mind’s going at a million miles per second but none of what I’m thinking about matters because of this damn stop summer has put on my life. I go out and I think—where are all the hot guys I put this skirt on to impress? Where are all the brilliant, bold, quirky college kids milling about on skateboards with backpacks and cups of cold coffee?

I want to be able to go out at midnight and not have to ask anyone. I want to get texts from The Chemist and roll around with him on his mattress on the floor. I want to walk home alone afterwards thinking what a jerk he was. I want to try to figure him out. I want to end things with him. I want to continue things with him to see where the heck its going. Every time I start thinking about it all I have to stop and remind myself that thinking is futile because it’ll be 3 months before anything that I think, any conclusions I draw, will matter anyway. And that just makes me impatient, angry, and exhasperated all at once. I was in the middle of something, damnit!

But such is the way of things. God has a way with timing that some would call fickle, others cruel. I call it him being an ass for the sake of being an ass, or so that he’ll have something to show his friends to make him laugh every Sunday when they get together to watch the game: “Hey man, check out what I did to this poor mortal today. King of the rock!” Yeah, I’m on to you, big man. Hide all you want; you can’t fool me. (By the way, when I use “God”, I do it sarcastically, to make fun of the belief of him, in a way, and not because I believe he exists. I’m an atheist.)

What can I do but stop, wait, and enjoy the sun and the leisure time? Soon enough you’ll find me back here whining about how wonderful summer was and how I dont want to go back (check for my “Summer Went All Too Soon” post) and how I’m considering dropping out of school and becoming a traveling songstress just so I wont have to go back again. I wish I was kidding.

Actually, I am. But you cant blame me for being dramatic.

I was going to write on some of these following topics separately, until I realised I didn’t really have that much to say about them. Also, my attention span is short today. Also, it’s 3 AM.

—

I’ve been too long without a moniker for the guy mentioned here and here. I was hoping that if I waited something would come to me, but there’s only so long I can call someone “that guy from that night”. So from henceforth he will be known as (here’s where I write the rest of this before coming back to the name) The Chemist. You cant expect me to be creative at 3 in the morning

—

Sometimes The Chemist is kind of a jackass. I dont know what he wants of me anymore, but since I told him he could go hook up with other girls I think he may have abandoned wanting a relationship. Which is fine with me. He’s not what I’m looking for in a boyfriend for reasons I’m too tired/lazy/busy to get to right now, but just because we have a pseudo-friends-with-benefits-and-peculiarities relationship doesn’t mean you use me. Just because I dont mind coming over and blowing you doesn’t mean I’m not a girl. And you dont let girls walk home alone at 1:30 AM, in Berkeley, no less. It’s not that I was scared I’d get attacked/raped/mugged/eaten by a bear; it’s that that’s just not what cool guys do. I’m above that. I’m probably one of the most zen-about-this-sort-of-thing girls you’ll ever meet but I do have some self respect; I dont deserve to be treated like that. Maybe I’m just being bitchy. So be it. The only reason I’m letting this carry on is summer.

—

Oh, the word “douchebag” comes to mind to describe The Chemist, too. Yet I do kind of like him. No, not like like. Like as a friend. With benefits. I may elaborate on this in a later post.

—

I’ve been wanting a tattoo. It’s one of those things where I’m not positive I want one but I know I’ll just keep thinking about it and wanting it more and more until I eventually cave and get it. I’ve always kinda sorta wanted one but didn’t know what to get or where to get it. I’m pretty sure now that I want a little ship. A little stylized sailboat/pirate ship. I’ve always found them so beautiful, and it would be the perfect balance of cool but not cliched, or at least, I think so. Dunno where I’d get it though, but I do know that it’s not gonna happen until at least when I get back here for summer classes.

Oh, and Mom would freak and call me a lesbian if she found out.

—

JT invited me to his friend’s birthday party. This coming Friday. A formal black dress affair. On a yacht. No, let me say that again: On a YACHT. In the bay. A real yacht.

(Technically when he told me about the event I threw away all my dignity and basically begged him to get me invited even though I’ve never even met the guy, which JT was more than happy to do.) There was a little bit of a scare when for a brief while reservations were all filled but currently I’m down for YACHT on Friday.

Omg I’m so excited. You know how I am about the ocean and ships. A real yacht!

One more time, I promise.

A YACHT.