it’s a hot southern california day

I love that state of mind where you’re so eager to find something different to do with your life that you are willing to consider even the craziest of options.  It’s kind of a fun place to be.  I find myself justifying every hare-brained scheme with the logic that a.) I’m young, 2.) I’m not tied down by husband/kids/obligations, and/or III.) it’ll look really great in my memoirs.  This is probably not a terribly responsible justification for anything, but I’m totally hanging onto it until I find myself in a state not allowing for two or more of these three prospects.

That being said, here are some possible plans for the future:

  1. Live in a trailer in Carbohnduhlay with good Carbohnduhlite friend Amy.
  2. Move to Chicago to work with some theatre company (probably the children’s theatre company I’ve been courting) and most likely starve.
  3. Apply for and take a job teaching English as a second language in South Korea.  Just because I can.

I’m making a valiant attempt to avoid clinging to crutches that will keep me from doing these things.  Yes, I know, life in Chicago is expensive and it’s a long way from Carbohnduhlay, but it’s somewhere I’ve always wanted to go and something I’ve always wanted to do and isn’t that what you’re saving money for?  Carbohnduhlay is a safe place for me and the Gentleman Caller will be down there and that would be wonderful.  Plus, it gets me out of the house.  I know it’ll be a long way from the Gentleman Caller during summer months (as my mother has been ALL TOO eager to point out to me), but we seem to be doing okay with the whole summer thing right now and I’m really not super-concerned about that.  And Korea…well, it’s about as far away from anything I know as I can get.  It would make for a very lonesome year, I expect.  But at the same time, the programme pays like crazy and it’s something rewarding and life-changing and, well, incredible.  I could go for something incredible right now.

I just saw my best friend graduate college last weekend.  In a weird way, it reminded me that, however much time I have left on this planet, it’s not going to last forever.  There’s no practise round in life, or whatever the old adage is.  This summer is a transitional period, but it’s starting to feel like my whole life is nothing but a series of transitional periods.  I’m tired of that.  I know it’s natural in a sense, but I’m sick of it feeling that way all the time.  So I’m going to go have mine.  And if I don’t know what mine is, I’m going to find it.

A life, Jimmy. You know what that is? It’s the shit that happens while you’re waiting for moments that never come.


please don’t jump

This is for everyone who hasn’t seen it, and as a reminder for anyone who has.

I just sat for a few minutes and read through the comments and pictures on the facebook page.  It’s the best cry I’ve had in a long time.  There is always hope.  There is always joy.  You are loved.

I hope everyone is safe and warm tonight.

we’re gonna end up in a great big fight

For any interested parties, here is what life is like in BTown right now:

I’m living at home, in my parents’ basement like so much really depressing Fonzi.  I haven’t had much of any contact with someone close to my age since I got here, with a few exceptions for the very lengthy graduation party, some phone calls, a brief coffee date with Christie, and a trip to Rockford.  My mother has become infinitely more coddling in the past few weeks than I ever suspected possible in that amount of time, and Da is never home.  I have a job.  It’s at Sam’s.  So ‘job’ is kind of a euphemism  for ‘semi-constant frustration’.  My brother is attempting to turn me into an alcoholic, which is nothing new, really.  I spent today at the Kickapoo Pow Wow outside of LeRoy, which was awesome, but the sauna-like atmosphere of the tent seems to have given me a slight case of heat stroke, so I’m kind of a pain in the ass right now.

This all sounds terrifically sophomoric and whiny.  Awesome.

I wish I was more optimistic about this whole ‘job’ situation.  I know I complain about it to an extent that is trying on everyone, including myself.  The pay is relatively decent, especially considering the fact that it’s part-time.  But the fact of the matter is, I’m working for one of the largest companies in the world; I am nothing but a number to these people (and a tiny one at that); there is nothing challenging about this position except the amount of patience it tries; and I am not living up to my potential in any sense of the word.  I’m bored.  I’m frustrated.  I’m far too over-educated for this job.  I would rather be working anywhere else than for this company (and I’m including Mickey D’s in that, mind you).  I need something ELSE.  …Preferably SOON.

The issues I have with this ‘job’ are infinitely multiplied by the steady conflicts I’m having with my mother.  She has this really brilliant tendency to neglect to remember that I’m of legal age now and capable of making my own decisions and consequential possible mistakes.  She also refuses to LISTEN when I’m talking to her.  And this isn’t just about important stuff, like the fact that I don’t like driving her car because I can’t see anything in it and am terrified of having an accident (which I’ve already had a few of in said car).  It’s things like, ‘You look tired.’  ‘That’s because I am tired.  I was working.’  ‘Why are you tired?’  THIS IS A CONVERSATION I HAVE ABOUT ONCE A DAY.  I repeat myself constantly.  And this is coming from someone who willingly hangs out with a guy who’s partially deaf!

Gah.  This is old news, I know.  I guess I could just handle the drudgery of my ‘job’ if I had somewhere I could go and relax at after said job.  But I don’t.  I go back to my parents’ house and proceed to be grilled on why I look so miserable and tired and why I’m never at home and why we’re (my mother and myself) not hanging out and how’s Pete doing today?  I haven’t talked to Pete, Mother.  I was at work.  WHY DO YOU THINK I’M LIKE THIS RIGHT NOW????

Motherfucker I’m so sick of her.

They’re buying another car.  Another fucking HHR with its fucking blindspots and fucking shitty brakes and she has NO IDEA why I’m upset about this or, now that I think of this, that I’m upset AT ALL.  Maybe when SHE spins off the road in the middle of a snowstorm in that little plastic deathtrap because it doesn’t brake for shit, SHE’LL understand why a person would never want to get inside that kind of car EVER AGAIN.

And on top of all of this, I desperately miss everyone.  Stupid heat stroke.  Stupid Bloomington.  Fuck me in the ear.

For the thousandth time, I want to go home.