knotted together
2007-04-30 10:38 a.m.

may 7, 2:46 am HELLOOOOO

Diaryland is having some sort of server meltdown and won't let me add any more entries until they fix it. but they do let me edit old ones. so i edited this one so i could say:

HELLOooooo i'm still here! if you give a shit! i have many exciting adventures (not really) which i look forward to sharing with you soon.

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(sunday 3 pm)
i'm wearing two types of plaid this afternoon.

we had an end of the year party last night. everyone was real fucked up. if i had to make an estimate of the number people who were operating under a slightly different persona than they would normally, i'd say 70%.

and now the sun is shining, the courtyard is littered with red solo cups and cigarette packs. my skin is smooth.

(monday 8 am)

o why o why am i up? my head itches. it's confirmed. i have nothing to say anymore.

maybe it's because i'm really happy these days.

(9:47)

i see from your away message that it is your birthday. i don't think i can remember an april 30th where you and i were on speaking terms.

i will make pot brownies in your honor. actually i was going to make pot brownies anyway. but i will sizzle the oil in your honor. and then i will eat 10 brownies and writhe on the floor and cry softly in the laundry room of an urban dwelling and i will finger the elastic waistband of a pair of boxers and i will be a fucking weirdo --all in your honor.

actually i'm kidding. i don't think about you anymore. i didn't tell wylie about you, and how you drove me up the wall, how i unraveled myself so completely in hopes of obtaining your grace.

oh hey! that reminds me. i've been reading ann patchett's memoir (Truth and Beauty) and i'm going to have to take a break because i don't want to both think AND read about the death of a friend. but it's wonderfully written, and there's no need for me to keep writing, because ann patchett has said everything i mean to say. including this snippet:

"But B was never going to love Lucy, and he seemed to take a real pleasure in telling her so. As much as Lucy had spent her college years dreaming that someday someone would want to have sex with her, she was slowly figuring out that wanting sex was knotted together with wanting love. The more B insisted the two be separate, the more confused and desperate Lucy became. The only avenue she had with B was sex, and she tried frantically to use it to make him love her. It was a bad habit she established, and it stayed with her for the rest of her life, long, long after B was gone."

well, shit. there you go, liz! time to find a new topic. a few entries ago i brought up the four of wands (which in turn brought up my slightly embarassing penchant for the occult. well not all of the occult, just parts. stop!). the four of wands meaning, "good job, things done, move on."

this was before my teacher wrote me a letter that said i did a good job and that i should experiment with new themes. i took his criticism personally, because i knew he was right: i need to move on. i still don't feel done here, with these ideas, but it's time to start planting new seeds. maybe by the time i'm done with my current crap (age 36 by my calculations) i'll have practiced some other theme enough to write something with the same level of familiarity and expertise that i'm able to write about heartbreak, lovesickness, awkwardness, and desperation.

there's a slight possibility that once i stop writing about these things, i'll stop living them. maybe my writing has more of an influence on my life than i care to admit? some sort of vicious cycle thing, i don't know.

(10:35)

i have to keep reminding myself that i'm incapable of sustaining any sort of relationship with you, even platonically. especially.

at moments it seems possible. then i remember that i've said that before.

it appears i am learning.