backyard crowing
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may you really live! and smoke pot. it enhances life anyway.
today is pot smoking day!
i am up at 6:42 am (didn't sleep) and listening to pinback's cd "summer in abbadon." i read somewhere that abbadon means hell.
now it has changed...iTunes now has a feature called "Genius" that mixes like songs for your aural pleasure. ;)
speaking of pleasure, i'm hoping my roommate gets out of the house today. vibrator, it has been a day since we last buzzed to oblivion!
this la croix water from central market is nice. it doesn't make my stomach ache like the whole foods sparkling water does when i drink too much of it. all of the pleasure with none of the pain! at least not now, when i'm young and invincible. stomach, stay cool, okay?
okay.
i read one of my old entries today that quoted Jerry Rubin who said,
"Only by breaking rules do we discover who we are."
I then reflected, saying, "I thought that was how I discovered that I was 'bad.'"
This was written in February 2007.
I'm so far from where I was then that I don't remember being "good." I feel like I've just barely getting by for so long now that I can't recall genuine care for my life.
I stopped caring about the status quo a long time ago, and started respecting that everyone is different and needs different care and routines to survive and succeed. I started looking at professors and authority figures as fairly evil with angel faces painted on, and their subjects as decent, exhausted wayfarers in need of a good exhale.
I champion the underdog so much that i forget he/she must get up and do something to make themselves function. I'm talking about myself here, if that didn't make sense. I don't do enough. My work ethic is shot. I haven't done a thing all weekend.
How many times have I written that? About a million.
I know things like "4/20 is pot day" and the best way to cure a hangover. i've had hangovers now. one night stands. papers late as fuck. tears...everywhere. embarrassing run-ins with TAs when you skipped your meeting with them that day. parents frantic about money and grades. breakdowns in front of friends, strangers, academic advisors, psychologists, and again parents. hospital visits. college is the best time of your life, according to many, but not me. i will miss the free time (despite the fact that it's not really free, we just pretend it is,) the convenience of living close to school, and the fun classes. but even the fun classes get ruined, because it's UT we're talking about here. playwriting is probably the only class that gets a get out of jail free card for that.
i think my playwriting crush knows i like him.
i think maybe topaz likes me. she's a girl. she invites me to things, like a hangout last friday...but then doesn't call me to say when the events are on. of course she'd have to drive me or point me to a bus stop, but still...i'm lending her money to buy a special birth control.
it's for cysts on her twin babymakers. i couldn't bear the thought of her not being able to afford to buy the birth control to keep the cyst pain down due to buying antibiotics for her pneumonia. two sicknesses at once + managing school = hell.
i still don't know how much the pills are going to be...hopefully nothing i won't be able to afford. i shouldn't have agreed to when i don't know the exact amount. i'm such a pushover! but she didn't even push me, i just offered.
she has to be my friend, right? i'm lending her money for a very good cause. still, she was the girl who brought me to the party wherein i tried pot...so she's a bad influence. :D see? look at me! freshman year of college i was biting my nails over whether to date a guy who smoked pot, and now i've taken a few puffs myself!
amazing how we change. i broke the rules, discovered i was 'bad.'
but i'm not a bad person, not really. and i'm far less judgemental of the world, or at least i hope so. my standards for myself and the world have crumbled. freeing and yet confining.
friends like leslie and K and L have floated into the background, they're mostly memories now. phone calls from anyone are exhausting, i hardly answer the phone, because really, why? i just expect to be berated or lectured. i am not a child, but they all see me as such. no wonder i like younger people better than people my own age. they get the being young thing; they're young, too.
hearing phrases like "that doesn't sound like you" are no longer things to be ashamed of, they're to be laughed at! because you're always you. what other person could you be? if you're screwing up, doing something "bad," then you're bad, i suppose, or perhaps just for that moment.
"feels good to be bad, doesn't it?"
- breakfast club
and i think movies have opened my mind as well. they (and other sources) have led me to accept everyone as human and valuable. even the little guys, they matter heaps and heaps. and that is why i can settle now and be one of them, because deep down i know they will kick your bureaucratic elitist asses if they get in the mood.
and i tell sex jokes. everything can be about sex, if you really want it to. freud was right, sex pervades everything.
but it gets in the way as well, you're not supposed to laugh at these things in serious conversations.
i want to be real. i see abundant superficiality now that my eyes are open to it, and i don't want to close my eyes. through the college years i have been enlightened. and disenchanted. and i have become compassionate. and edgy. and an individual...just like everybody else.
ignorance is not bliss. and you can't just "ignore something, and it'll go away," as christy's mother would say. it will turn around and bite you in the ass, i promise. i'm pretty preachy for someone with avoidant personality disorder. :)
i still find it a little strange that it's called a disorder, but no matter. they're just terms. terms to be heeded and rejected, taken only at face value and yet respected. terms to be changed, nixed out, lifted from paper, crossed out, flushed.
did i mention it's 7:20 am and i haven't slept all night? that part should be clear by now.
maybe i'll look back and find this entry isn't so confusing after all. maybe it'll contain a lot more clarity than i imagined. or maybe it will be boring bullshit like the majority of these entries, and i'll be forced to click "random entry" to try and occupy my time.
playwriting prof said the other day: "people come to the theater to see something and then reflect on it, not see people reflecting. that's boring. that's contemplating your navel." so in other words, don't have your characters reflect much, or talk to each other about their relationships much. i have a bit of that in my play, via the psychologist scene, which i'm taking out. i deleted nine pages on thursday. SCARY!
i almost forgot, it's my maternal grandfather's birthday today! pot day! it's sad that i remember it's pot day first, and his birthday second. :( oh, well. i'm only human.
i wonder if i will ever have kids. i think they should read this, if i ever do. then again, it might scare them or lead them down the wrong path. i talk a lot about sharing this diary, don't i? i suppose it's because it tells a large chunk of my life story, or ALL of my life story, if you think as i do that one's life starts post-high school.
i have watched about seven episodes of the O.C. in the past couple of days on hulu.com. yes, the twerps still intrigue me. only now that i'm taking playwriting i can actually spot an error here and there, like "that's unrealistic!" or, "that line would be better if..."
before i could never do that. before i was a lemming. now i am maybe one step apart from a lemming. i would like to be a visionary like one of my professors.
but then i would be one of "them," one of the bad guys, the authorities i get off on disregarding. :D and yes, that is a double entendre that's true both ways. i'd love to play the role of the schoolgirl. and to be honest, when i see a red plaid skirt i can't help but get turned on. there's something about it...
i do think that if i had more freedoms as a kid, i would have turned out a more responsible, well-adjusted, law-abiding adult. but what's the fun in that?
"the essence of pleasure is spontaneity."
-some smart douche
i'm glad my mother went skydiving. i think it was good for her. i need to call her back. she seems so far away, but it's because i've put her there, ignored her calls, called only when i think she won't be at the phone. she leaves cheerful messages. she seems happy. but she's far. not in miles, but in spirit.
same with abbie.
i'm so aloooooone! what a crazy i am. i've learned so much, become so much, ruined so much. it is a heady life. i'm glad i don't have kids or a husband, but a steady boyfriend would be nice, even though it might not last. i'm looking for lasting a few months, and then realizing we're going different places.
bring on the romance, world! where the fuck are you?!
love is patient. love is kind. calm down, self. :)
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i went to central market with the roommie today. i bought her two bottles of wine, which she paid me back for afterward. she's 20. the people gave us samples of the wine without carding us, that was a first for me.
again, i have come far. frosh year i freaked when my roommate left a beer in the fridge. when she left the room and it was me and the beer (faceoff!), i looked at it with curiosity and trepidation. what if they searched us for some reason? fire inspection? safety inspection of some sort? what would that mean for my college career? what if i were to drink it? could people smell just one beer on my breath? would i be drunk? how long would i be drunk?
and on and on, questions like this would flood my head back then.
and thoughts about gay marriage and george bush II and how the former was a no-no and the latter was a yes-yes. i was a brainwashed idiot! thanks UT, for raising awareness. i don't thank my school very often. most of the time i'm cursing at it and wanting to flick off the tower.
that's right, bells, FUCK YOU, MOTHAFUCKAZ!
oi. this has been fun to write. :D
...and i remember the first time i bought alcohol for minors, and how nervous i was about it. "act casual," they said, because that is what college students say to each other. i made it. perhaps the girl at the register could see right through me, and perhaps she didn't much care. or maybe despite my lack of acting skills i managed to put one over on her. desperate times call for desperate measures, and purchasing alcohol can be an act of desperation, yes siree.
so can drinking it, and waking up in the arms of another boy you wish you had in your heart. he's pressed against you, you can't get any closer to each other, and yet he doesn't know you. he gets your name wrong. he couldn't tell you your major. he couldn't comfort you, not really. he's not in your marrow. nobody's in your marrow.
you shiver at the very thought; such a closeness would be terrifying. but somewhere deep down, you know it would be worth it.
comb your hair. wash your face. brush your teeth. put on some makeup. become the girl that society has proclaimed you are since day one. go around and flaunt it. flirt. twirl. giggle. do what's expected of you. don't talk too much.
we are a sick world...
"Barf me ouuuuut!"
-that valley girl song
i just thought i saw a bug crawling on my bed. it was nothing. apparently it is 7:58 am and i have begun to hallucinate.
good night, good morning, and may you really live today.
8:01 am - Monday, Apr. 20, 2009
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