Physiology With Liz… Episode 1: The Surprise Attack Breath

No more crazy Steelers posts. I thought Drew already talked to you about this.
- Ben

Sigh. Fine… That’s the last one for awhile.

Here’s a super cool sciencey information post.

You know how sometimes you’ll be sitting or laying somewhere and all of a sudden you take a huge gasping breath out of nowhere?

Well, I guess it’s not really gasping. For me, it’s a super rapid and quick spontaneous inhale. It’s just like you kind of inhale really deeply out of the blue for no reason.

There is a reason, though!

If you’ve ever been like “Hmm, I wonder why I take that funny breath sometimes?” then this post is for you.

The answer is that when you’re sitting for a long period of time in the same position (or laying down), you’re essentially hypoventilating due to stillness. So what happens as a result is the CO2 builds up in your lungs and stimulates you to breathe that huge breath. With that huge breath, you’re able to blow off the CO2 and O2/CO2 levels go back to normal.

In everyone except COPD (or similarly compromised) people, the stimulus to breathe is actually a build up of CO2 and not lack of O2.

This is also why you yawn sometimes. It doesn’t account for every yawn. But it accounts for some of them.

I totally geeked out in A&P but now nursing has taken my nerdiness to a whole new level. I can’t stop thinking about how our bodies work.

Ok, boys… I hope that was intellectually stimulating enough for you since you seem to think that passionately discussing the Steelers is something only a neandertal would do.

Sometimes new friends ask me why I don’t date one of my best guy friends since we’re so close. Their inability to appreciate the Steelers is one of the reasons. And the fact that we’ve been friends for so long that I’m not really attracted to them. And we have different values and want different things out of life.

Real life isn’t like a chick flick where one day you wake up and realize that your best friend is what you’ve been looking for all along.

Here’s a hilarious “documentary” about why guys and girls can’t actually be friends though. Maybe I’m way off base about the nature of our friendship dynamics.

Hooking up is different than dating though. We’d probably hook up given the right circumstance. But never would we ever date.

Let’s Talk About Spaceships Or Anything Except You And Me, Ok?

That’s a sentiment I can get behind.

Sometimes unmemorably mediocre songs are redeemed by one line or the chorus. In this case, that one line is the chorus.

Also, drunk sleep. Why does it make you bionic? I came home at 5:41AM last night so I probably went to bed around 6. But then I woke up at 10 with enough energy to run a marathon. 4 hours of drunk sleep is like 12 hours of real sleep and I have no idea why. It’s true that after a few hours of being awake, the hangover starts and you become immediately exhausted though. That’s basically every Sunday of my life. Well, probably 15% of my Sundays. That doesn’t seem a lot but when you think about how many days per year that is, you realize the magnitude of the waste. We only get so many life hours. You gotta be careful with how you spend them.

Saturdays are usually ok because Friday nights never get that crazy. We don’t have the pent up energy from a work-free Saturday influencing our decisions.

Anyway, here’s the general Sunday “Last night got way too out of hand” progression:
- 10AM: Feeling great and not thinking you were that drunk or did/said anything crazy/stupid. Eat a solid breakfast of Doritos and chicken nuggets. Probably still a little drunk.
- 1PM: Twinge of a headache, vague memories of outrageous things
- 2:30PM: Brain swelling death headache, concrete memories of shameful things, realizing how much you actually did drink. Never wanting to see those strangers you met last night ever again. Leads to a hangover nap to escape the physical and psychological pain.
-  5PM: Try to make it to the kitchen to drink water and/or eat but can’t even sit up without wanting to die. Leads to a 2nd nap
- 6PM:  Give up on salvaging the day and watch Netflix for a few hours
- 8PM: Rally and do something productive like laundry
- 10PM: Wide awake and feeling awesome again right in time for bed where you will lay restlessly for hours until 3AM, cursing the fact that you ruined your sleep schedule and have to work the next day. Remembering that every drunk thing you did/said most likely was forgotten by everyone you interacted with because they were ridiculously tanked as well.

From August-February, football is the background noise all day. And most of the time, I pull myself together and make it out for the Steelers game so that general progression up there is a bit different during the entirety of the NFL season.

Anyway, the nights get crazier and I stay out later and later as the months go on and the older I get. I think I’m doing this backwards. You’re supposed to get less crazy as you age. I have a lot of missed opportunities to make up for though. I think that’s what’s happening here. Not having a boyfriend is awesome. Ideally, I would like to find a boyfriend who wants to stay out until 9AM with me but I understand that these people are hard to find.

Sometimes I do feel a little out of control and would just like to have a chill night with a boy. The crazy party girl in me loves life and loves the crazy party friends and all the insane/hilarious stuff that happens but the quiet sensitive girl in me just wants to take the army blanket to the middle of a field and stargaze/makeout for hours. Or make him dinner and watch stupid crap on TV. I also weirdly like just reading on a couch as the boyfriend reads on the other end of the couch and sometimes you talk to each other or smile at each other because you’re in love. Like the country/city thing, I’m 50% party, 50% chill. I’m pretty sure that’s how most people are though so I don’t even know why I’m thinking about this so much.

Last night, we were pounding long islands at Mario’s. Then we got a text about a post-Halloween party in Oakland. And within an hour, we were able to make it home, dig the costumes out of whatever godforsaken place they may have fallen into in the last week and put them on and show up to the party. Granted, we were like disaster versions of our previous Halloween selves because it’s hard to do things when you’re drunk. Also, after 2 nights of hard partying, your costumes just aren’t in good shape anymore. It really looked like we were living a wretched walk of shame scenario at 10:30PM, but whatever. We made it. Everyone else looked like a disaster too.

Moving on… people are dicks. I have no faith in them anymore. One minute, you’re forever best friends with someone you’ve known for a considerable amount of time in your short life. The next minute, he starts dating a crazy girl and cuts you out like you don’t mean anything to him. One minute, you’re putting everything you have into a romantic relationship with a person you love because you could see yourself being with him forever. The next minute, he’s calling you a whore when you’re just living life and moving on after you broke up with him because he consistently never put in anything and broke your heart over and over again. One minute, you’re dependably/continuously helping a friend work through an issue and being there for him/her 24/7 and not even caring about the energy you put into it because you love him/her. The next minute, you make one questionable choice that really has nothing to do with him/her and he/she judges you for it and that’s the end of the friendship. The third example is the most recent.

I feel so hopeless about human relationships. I think I need a paradigm shift here. Maybe I should stop thinking about them as solid long-term things and take a step back to see the bigger picture of life being 90 years of people coming and going with a few people who are there for spans of 10-20 years and most people who are there for spans of 1-5. It’s hard to do that though because I love too intensely. #1 downfall: I care too much. And when things inevitably go badly, I refuse to feel hurt for more than 2 seconds because I kind of have the “why waste my time?” mentality and believe that life should be lived happily. But the only way to not feel hurt when someone you care about does something shitty is to have hostility to fall back on and that’s kind of not ok. I’m working on it. It’s better to feel hurt sometimes then hide behind ridiculous walls that can’t be breached by anyone because what happens is you push away all but the fiercest individuals.

The weird thing is that I generally trust people completely and immediately until I have a reason not to. I’m not cautious about that part. But it turns out that not a lot of people are very trustworthy. The rational thing to do would be start being cautious about who I trust and how much I trust. I don’t even want to start being hesitant about trust though. Even if I’m upset every day for the rest of my life, being distrustful is no way to live. So I’m in this weird state of hesitancy to trust anyone but also absolute refusal to let my soul become that bitter and broken. Trust will prevail in the end. My best friends are patient with my freak outs. We fix each other.

I wish I could apply that to letting people in. It’s kind of related to trust but not really the same thing. Sometimes I feel like my heart is a one-way street all the time. Everything can get out but nothing can get in. Like I will try to make other people feel loved until I die but I consistently struggle so hard with allowing myself to feel loved or believing that people are genuine in their affection (it’s not a low self-esteem issue so what is it?… someone analyze this) or letting people have a concrete/solid spot in my heart that’s just for them. The first image that comes to my mind is a little virus sitting on top of my heart like it’s a cell and injecting it’s little virus bits into my heart then taking over the DNA  and ruining my heart’s ability to function as a heart. That’s what I’m afraid of. I still feel so destroyed from the breakup aftermath. Not that I’m sad or missing him or anything. But really, I’m so tentative and my heart feels like ice and I don’t know how to kick that or why I’m still this way three months later.

In August, I was a hostility monster and a crazy person and should not have been dating. In September, I finally felt real emotions again instead of just nothing. In October, I regrouped completely and made it back to the core of myself. In November, I hope to kick the whole hesitant thing. I’m still crazy impatient which is a trait that I picked up somewhere along the way. I’ve always been a little impatient naturally but it’s been really bad lately. Like annoyingly bad. My personal fix list is miles long right now. And I’m just engaging in self-indulgent blithering at this point.

I really am a hermit crab though. Super vulnerable but at least I have my shells to move in and out of as I grow and that’s how I survive. Someday (soon, hopefully) I’ll get to that point where I’m absolutely ok and normal again. Even looking at the progress since August, I think I’m happy with the results. There’s a decent amount of hope in my day-to-day thoughts/emotions. These things just take time.

And though spring, it did come slowly, I guess it did it’s part
My heart has thawed and continues to beat
- Bright Eyes, June on the West Coast

I still sometimes feel like I’ll be forever alone unless there’s a guy who’s patient enough to work with me on this and sees right through the hostility act. Maybe that’s just what love is and it’s not completely unreasonable to think that this is possible. People have baggage and you love them in spite of it. Or maybe I’ll just learn to be a human again with time on my own. I don’t need to be emotionally rescued and I kind of hate when guys try (because of my hostility/refusal to let people in thing) so the latter is probably the most likely scenario. Regardless, I’m pretty content with or without a relationship so I guess that doesn’t really matter.

There’s just something about being single that’s awesome that not a lot of hopelessly “I don’t want to be single anymore” people don’t recognize. Every place you go and every individual you meet offers limitless potential. You’re not bound to any person or situation. Your decisions are strictly yours and compromise is not a part of your life in any way, shape, or form. I mean, compromising is fine and I’m happy to do it most of the time but there’s truly something nice about not having to do it at all. Your plans are fluid and flexible. Your experiences are random and fulfilling. There’s nothing boring about being single. Things are always happening. And you can flirt with whoever you want or dance with whoever you want or go to dinner with whoever you want. And it’s an onslaught of attention 24/7. Even if 90% of it is guys trying to hook up with you, misguided/trivial attention is still worth something. It’s nice to feel like you’re the hottest girl in the room sometimes. Especially when your ex never made you feel like you were hot because he was a non-emotional negative hater type. Boyfriends: overrated. Random guys complimenting you because they want to sleep with you: awesome (as long as you take it with a grain of salt and don’t take them seriously).

Anyway, typical weekend morning text exchange with Desi:

- Desi: haha last night
- Me: it was so random. sometimes i wake up and think, “how is this our life?”
- Desi: right?  always crazy

And really, I know not ALL people are assholes. Just a few examples:

Drew and I will be friends forever and I know this because the worst shit has happened and none of that has come between us or shaken our friendship on any significant level. Desi (obviously) and I will be friends forever because we’ve both lived through amazing and terrible experiences in the last 6 years and there was never one time when we didn’t absolutely have each other’s backs and I’m pretty sure we haven’t judged each other for anything. If one day she was like “I killed a guy and now we have to go run away to Peru and hide there forever,” I would go in a heartbeat. We take care of each other. Kelsey and Greg will be my friends forever because  they’re absolutely decent people in every way. So down to earth and open and honest and laid-back and non-judgmental. Plus, amazingly funny to be around and honestly, some of the most generous people I’ve ever met.

So, the fact that last night ended with Desi, Greg, and Kelsey and then a phone call to Drew makes me realize that I actually kind of love my life in spite of the shittiness. I go back and forth on this all the time and I’m sorry if I sound like a broken record of narcissism where I’m whiny about how much I hate life/people then immediately come back to how much I love it/them.

I wonder if life will always feel like this or if it’s just a thing that happens in your 20s. I guess I won’t know until I’m 35. I guess it just seems like the whole 20s thing is a ridiculous transitional time where you’re starting to learn how to have adult relationships and sometimes failing and sometimes succeeding. Plus, you’re kind of transitioning in time and space on every level. It’s not like we’re all settled down with families in the same place with the same friends. People come and go as they go to move to different cities for school/work or just decide to pursue life in a different way/place.

I feel like we’re molecules in a gaseous state in a closed space and subjected to increasingly hot temperatures. Buzzing all over in crazy directions and reacting with each other sometimes in bad ways that are explosive and sometimes good ways where new molecules are formed but always changing in some way then eventually zooming off into a new direction we wouldn’t have gone if not for that interaction. Science is my religion in case you haven’t noticed. I’m going to write some kind of religious text where the human experience is explained via science analogies. I used to have this list of Biology concepts/processes that could be used as metaphors for love in its various forms. It kept me pretty grounded for a long time. I wish I could remember some of them or had that list. I’m sure if I read that textbook again, it would all come flooding back. I think I’m the only kid that read every page (because who’s an overachiever like that?)

I swear to God, life has this beautiful thing about it where everything that happens at our level mirrors something that happens at the lower levels and the higher levels. I mean, you could totally think of people as solar systems or stars or galaxies or anything like that. Maybe that seems like it’s not a good analogy because things in space seem to happen so slowly, but in the timeframe of eternity, it’s happening pretty damn fast. We used to be stars anyway. I’m relatively certain I blogged about that before but I always come back to it because it always blows my mind.

 We are bits of stellar matter that got cold by accident, bits of a star gone wrong.
- Sir Arthur Eddington

Sometimes, I just wanna be that chill kid with a handful of close friends and no drama or craziness in my life. But then, I think about how incredible it is to experience life in every way you possibly can and part of that means that you have to take the risk that sometimes things are going to go badly and you’re going to be unhappy. Bad choices and upsetting situations are the price of meeting both the good and bad people who are going to influence you to fulfill more potential than you could without running into them in life and also having those experiences that blow your mind and give meaning to your existence. I think fate has a way of working things out anyway. We just fall into the place where we’re supposed to be eventually. When that moment comes, it’s effortless because of everything you’ve already done to get there without even knowing that’s why you were doing it.

Life moves on, whether we act as cowards or heroes. Life has no other discipline to impose, if we would but realize it, than to accept life unquestioningly. Everything we shut our eyes to, everything we run away from, everything we deny, denigrate or despise, serves to defeat us in the end. What seems nasty, painful, evil, can become a source of beauty, joy, and strength, if faced with an open mind. Every moment is a golden one for him who has the vision to recognize it as such.
- Henry Miller

I ran a cost-benefit analysis. The expected return favors living.

So, this is my life. And I want you to know that I am both happy and sad and I’m still trying to figure out how that could be.
- Stephen Chbosky, The Perks of Being a Wallflower

Messages

I love mom e-mails. They kind of always sound a little ridiculous. I don’t know what it is. I’ve been trying analyze this for years. Just their choice of words and/or tone is weird maybe. They always sound different from e-mails you get from anyone else. Case in point, the last one my mom sent to me:

Oh my dear!  I am so happy that your wishes are coming true as you head to Alabama. We will miss you greatly but know that this is what you want to do and we are behind you all the way! The next 2 months will be filled with excitement and anticipation! Hope your weekend was fun and that THING 1 and 2 were a hit!

Mom, why do you do stuff like randomly capitalize the word “thing?”

I also love this song: Messages by Xavier Rudd

Oh, the lyrics. They really make me cry life tears 50% of the time I listen to the album. It’s a good Sunday night album.

So, hold nice and close
Once you get to your soul
So that when it is cold
You won’t feel so alone
‘Cause the roads that you take
May just crack and break
With the changes you will confront

With each gift that you share
You may heal and repair
With each choice you make
You may help someone’s day
Well, I know you are strong
May your journey be long
And now I wish you the best of luck
Well, I know you are strong
May your journey be long
And now I wish you the best of luck

Also, please care about the environment. Thanks.

I’m so teary lately anyway. The outrageousness of Halloweekend has made me realize how much I’m going to miss everyone for real. Like there have been a few times when I’ve just looked around at my friends doing what we always do and I just feel sadness and the ache of missing them already. The journey of life is bittersweet.

What is that feeling when you’re driving away from people and they recede on the plain till you see their specks dispersing? — it’s the too-huge world vaulting us, and it’s good-by. But we lean forward to the next crazy venture beneath the skies.
- Jack Kerouac, On The Road

Even though I love everyone to death, Halloweekend has been outrageously crazy and I’m kind of ready to get off this ride. Excerpt from one of my drunk tweets:

Oh Lord. Halloweekend. We are all going to die.

At Mike’s party on Friday night, we crossed the event horizon of insanity/debauchery never to return apparently. I thought I was too hungover to drink last night. I was wrong. Yes, I was still mad hungover and didn’t really want to drink but it happened. I thought we had all pulled ourselves together by the time we met up again at my house last night. Not true. Two parties with a bar adventure in between and we were all back to Friday night where the craziest shit was going down. At least Desi and I are naturally synched up so that only one of us is obliterated at a time and we take care of each other. Thank God, because if it weren’t this way, we’d be completely non-functioning wastes of life.

There’s been drama, there’s been fun, there’s been the surrealness of being sandwiched between Boba Fett and a dude dressed like a sexy woman while you back that ass up as the stereo blasts some Juvenile.

I mean, we went hard. It’s not even over yet. There’s still a small gathering happening at the Cage tomorrow night. Honestly, I can never get enough Halloween though. It’s truly one of the best holidays.

Apparently, Matt referred to me as “the whore in the other room” on Friday night however. That was nice of him. Glad to see he’s healthily/maturely moving on three months later. I know it shouldn’t have broken my heart that that’s how he thinks of me because I’m more or less over it in every way but it still sucks to know that there’s so much hate directed toward me from someone I used to love and who used to supposedly love me. I also know it’s not true at all. I was only ever the most monogamous/faithful/loyal/dedicated/loving/non-slutty girlfriend a person can have. It still stung really bad to know that he called me that and I guess I’ll never know why.

I think that guys will never really understand the level of disaster the situation with Matt was and I can never really fully throw out a disclaimer about why I’m so hostile towards them. I don’t believe in nice guys because my ex is the type of person to call you a whore three months after you broke up when it was entirely his fault and semi-unfaithfulness that caused you to end it.

I guess that’s essentially it. It’s hard to believe that a nice/decent/good guy is actually that when the guy you thought was that nice/decent/good guy in reality is a shady bastard who calls you a whore and that interferes with my assessment of all men.

I’m definitely ready to get out of here. Heartwrenching or not, it’s time to move on.

I still haven’t come to terms with the fact that I’m going to be living on Mobile Bay and basically the Gulf of Mexico. My connection with bodies of water is one of the most solid/consistent things in my life. My whole body is itching to go. The Gulf of Mexico and I have some kind of magnetism now. Water is also helping me feel less upset about leaving and the inevitable disconnection that comes with long-distance friendships. But when I think about the fact that ultimately New Orleans is my goal and that we’ll all be connected someday by Ohio and Mississippi Rivers, I feel more at ease about it. I like the idea of being able to look at the Mississippi River water and knowing that some of that came from Pittsburgh. And even farther up, some of it came from Potter county where my mom works so I’m connected to everyone that’s important.

I’m actually crazy. This is proof. A sane person would feel connected to people in 2011 because we have cell phones and the internet. A crazy person gets all 1894 about it. Pittsburgh is only a steamboat trip away!

This blurb from Wiki is cool:

The use of steamboats on major US rivers soon followed Fulton’s success. In 1811 the first in a continuous (still in commercial passenger operation as of 2007) line of river steamboats left the dock at Pittsburgh to steam down the Ohio River to the Mississippi and on to New Orleans.

I was obsessed with steamboat history for awhile. You can blame alt-country for that, I’m sure. But yeah, got books out of the library about it and everything. I was a steamboat expert for two weeks.

I also love houseboats. And speed boats. And tug boats. And fishing boats. And life boats. And pontoon boats. And kayaks. And canoes. And gondolas. And all other boats. Those are just the first ones that come to mind.

But sailboats most of all. Intense love for sailboats. My ancestors must have been pirates or vikings or fish or something. I’m most at peace on/in the water. It’s the most universal thing ever when you think about it. First of all, the earth is 70% water. Secondly, the water comes from everywhere and goes everywhere via the evaporation and rain cycle. And the molecules get all broken up then put back together. The atoms just move all over. I also like that hydrogen bonds are super weak unless there are a lot of hydrogen bonds going on from a lot of molecules being together. That’s so universal. One person alone is nothing. But a million people together is unbreakable. We need each other. Together, we have a high specific heat.

Putting the physics/chemistry aside (why am I such a nerd and only think in terms of science?), the water is also carried all over via gravity and waves and currents. It’s humbling to think about the power and magnitude of it but also comforting because of the connection to all things that it makes me feel.

I definitely cry my face off at the end of Big Fish every time. And kind of all the way through. The “I was drying out” line in the bathtub scene makes my heart explode. It’s not even really 100% sadness tears because of the death thing. Mostly life tears actually. Sometimes I wonder if I’m the only person who loves the mix of good/bad in life so intensely that they cry about it. Not really happy or sad tears. Just love/existence/humanity tears.

Anyway, it’s obviously my favorite movie. And probably influenced me way too much when I was considering applying to nursing school in Alabama. I hope someone proposes to me someday by fake catching a catfish with an engagement ring (more proof that I’m Imaginationland crazy). Or actually catching a catfish with an engagement ring. That seems risky though. He could just pretend.

And take me to the river when I die. Preferably, I would like to die in the river surrounded by all the people I’ve ever known but that’s obviously way too whimsical to be real life and only happens at the end of Big Fish and not even really happens. It just happens in the story that Billy Crudup tells to Albert Finney while he dies in the hospital. Y’all can just cremate me and toss me in the river with some kind of short ceremonial celebration of life. Be drinking whiskey too, of course.

Wow, I think I just planned my funeral. These blogs get out of control. I go in with no organization or idea about what I’m going to write whatsoever and this is what comes out.

Relevant: If I Die Young by The Band Perry

I Just Want You Near Me Like You Are Now For Good

That’s a sweet sentiment. I love love love Tinfoil Hats.

It makes me hopeful about life. It makes me not want to settle. I can’t settle again. It’s better to be alone than settle for something that’s not everything you want.

Relatedly, my need to get out of this city and/or maybe all cities is overwhelming. I really think it has to do partially with the fact that I could go to the middle of Wyoming where no one lives and actually scream my face off for 10 minutes and no one would know. But also, more to do with the fact that after shutting down crucial parts of myself to be in a relationship with Matt, the repressed interests and thoughts and feelings are now coming out so uncontrollably fast and hard that I don’t know how to keep it in check.

We seriously argued about the stupidest stuff that really was just a reflection of us being totally different people with completely different interests and backgrounds.  In order to prevent the arguing, I had to ignore crucial parts of myself and not act certain ways and modify my interests. Because of this, I know exactly what I do and do not want in a guy. So I can really only be happy at this point. I feel like I dodged some kind of bullet. Like maybe I got out just in time before that point where I would get too far in. Like I was dangerously close to the event horizon of a black hole and almost never came out again.

And now I’m kind of living like someone who almost died. I know that sounds super dramatic but that’s how I feel sometimes. It was nearly the death of myself. And that’s maybe almost scarier than dying for real. When you die for real, you just cease to exist. When your true self dies, you have to live as someone else for the rest of your days and time drags on and you’re never really happy/fulfilled.

I’m 50% country and 50% city. It’s a dead even split. I grew up in the country so I need the wilderness down to the very core of my being. I kind of freak out in the city. I don’t know what to do with myself and get easily upset by certain things. Like smelling truck fumes when I’m running and not being able to see the stars when I want to. But then again, I know how much it sucks to live in a small town and what it’s like to want to experience new things and meet new people. So when I’m back in that small town for an extended period of time, I freak out then too. Essentially, I’m always only half content. 50% bliss, 50% freaking out. It’s really a miserable existence sometimes. Pittsburgh is actually ok. It’s city enough that you can spontaneously do almost anything and I could go to 7 shows a week if I wanted to but it’s also surrounded by three epic rivers and it was kind of built in the middle of the woods so it still kind of feels like that’s where you are. Western PA woods are the best kind also. Plus it’s neighborhoody so kinda has a small town feel sometimes. And after being here for 6 years, it’s really weird to realize how many people I know or know of. Desi and I went out on a date with the same guy and didn’t even realize it until after it happened. My bank teller realized that he lives in my old apartment. Shit like that. Everyone knows everyone.

Anyway, for the last billion weekends before this one, I left for some kind of country adventure whether it was visiting my extended family or driving to State College and back. And during those weeks I felt stable and balanced for the most part. So obviously the 50/50 thing is necessary. That’s why I think I’ll love Salt Lake City if I end up there. I feel like there are a million adventurers in Utah. Chill people who just like to hike and ski and kayak. Mary seems to think that’s where my soulmate is. More specifically, he’s probably at the Patagonia outlet (which, by the way, is absolutely amazing she says). Our eyes will meet in the ski pants aisle and that will be the start of happily forever.

Man wish list:
- At least 6’0″
- Outdoorsy in every way. Like would go camping and/or to the lake every weekend if he could.
- Kinda scruffy but in a well-maintained sense. Flannel shirts all the way. I’ve weirdly only been attracted to guys with facial hair lately.
- Absolutely honest/open about everything and truly believes that’s the only way to live. You can’t force someone to have this value or learn to be that way. They either can or they can’t. They do or they don’t. Don’t waste your time thinking they’ll change and/or come around and/or warm up to the idea.
- Brown eyes. They make me melt. Green and hazel are tolerable. Blue eyes are gross.
- Liberal political tendencies
- Humble, altruistic, loves people/the environment/the world/life
- Good at engineering and/or good at making/fixing stuff
-  Coaches little kids soccer
- Drives a Jeep. We need something to tow the boat with. Also, I’ve been Jeep brainwashed. My parents have always had one for as long as I can remember. And the best days of my life were spent on roadtrips in Tim’s Wrangler. Speaking of roadtrips…
- Must love roadtrips (and be good at them… stops infrequently, sings along with the Ryan Adams, knows how to pack a car, etc.) and also love good roadtrip music. Speaking of music…
- Must love alt-country and punk and everything from the 90s and just music in general. If you don’t go to a lot of shows, I can’t be with you. Because that’s all I want to do.
- Has siblings and is best friends with them. At least one of them has to be a sister. Guys without sisters are emotionally inept.
- Dog person. No cats. Ever.
- Likes good beer and whiskey. Also not a lightweight. I can drink a lot. You better be able to keep up.
- Wants to have 4 kids and is open to a few or all of them being adopted
- Has broad shoulders and tan man arms/hands/wrists
-  Can put up with the fact that I’m motivated and fiercely independent and hard to deal with sometimes especially at the beginning when I have walls. Once I trust you enough not to destroy my heart, I’m the most affectionate/low-maintenance girlfriend ever, I swear
- Can put up with the fact that I love to laugh and be unserious/ridiculous and also that I still have a huge imagination
- Knows that I have the potential to do amazing things for the world with my huge capacity to love and encourages/supports/pushes me the whole way to get things done. The greatest loves are those that make you an even more exceptional person than you ever thought you could be.
- Wants to have as many random experiences and see as many places as possible before we die together when we’re 95
- Knows that life is about way more than just making money and that it’s better to find a career that fits the life you want instead of making your life fit around your career
- Sees right through my shit and makes me accountable for it
- Does not have rich parents. I could write a book on why. But for now, just take my word for it.
- Remembers my birthday every year. I don’t even need a party or a present or a nice dinner or anything. You just have to say Happy Birthday and acknowledge that I’m one year older and happy about it. I don’t care about the whole anniversary thing or any other date that might be important. You just have to care that I’ve successfully lived another year and be happy that I’m around.
- Wants to settle down in Pittsburgh when we’re ready for that type of thing. My kids need to be close to my family and the farm. I want them to be able to have the experience of partially growing up there.
- Believes in lazy Sundays. Reading, cooking, chilling on the porch swing, watching football, napping in the hammock, etc.

I have yet to meet a guy that’s all those things. I don’t think I’ve met a guy that even comes close. Maybe I’m asking for too much. Like the soccer coaching is probably a stretch. And I could just buy a Jeep for myself. But… in general, that’s what I’m looking for. And Matt was so far off of that. And honestly, those things haven’t really changed from when I was 17 so I don’t know what I was doing. We had weirdly amazing chemistry that I got caught up in then it turned into love so even though we had seriously fundamental differences, it lasted a long time. And now I’ve learned a ridiculously critical lesson which I am grateful for and it’s only going to get better from here.

I can’t wait to find the guy that’s all those things or close to all those things. I want to listen to Tinfoil Hats and look this hypothetical person and know that we’re happy in every way on ever level.

Kid, I’m gonna be with you longer than the world can stand
‘Cause there’s a light that’s stronger
Shining out of your eyes
I see it

And even if I never find this ideal man I’m so so happy just being single that it’s totally ok. If I only ever have a dog and a boat, I’ll consider my life successful/happy/fulfilled. As I said, it’s better to be alone than settle for something that doesn’t make you happy in every way. The point of existence is to live happily and it’s very possible to be more unhappy than happy when you’re with the wrong person.

I’m exploding with life and love and hope. Yeah, there’s underlying anger there. But it actually is going away. I’m not a dweller. It’s time to put my brave face on and just expect that he’s going to continue to be a dick and make me upset and so I’m going to find a way to move past it and live my life and not let it bother me.

The miles and miles of hostility running definitely helps too.

Wagon Wheel

It’s amazing that Desi has been my friend for 6 years and probably my best friend for 4 years and we just realized today that we both intensely love Wagon Wheel.

The wagon wheel stamp is still on my hand from last night because I’m a ginger and these things don’t scrub off easily. Can I just get it tattooed so it stays forever?

Now it says “You are beautiful” on top of the wagon wheel because of 80s night though. The stamps on my hand make me realize how awesome my life is.

If Desi and I hitchhike to Raleigh, you know who to blame.

At least we will die free.

Also, check this out: Bob Dylan started it

When I found that post a few months ago, I was floored.

God, I love Bob Dylan.

And the story behind Wagon Wheel makes 500 times better than it already was.

Why Guys Shouldn’t Buy Drinks (Or Anything) For Girls

True story. Last night, Desi and I went to Hough’s alone for the Steelers game as a result of that whole being excluded from a lot of stuff now thing. Still, we were having a damn good time. We pregamed with whiskey gingers at my house then ate some quesadilla burgers and drank Southern Tier Pumpking at the bar. Could not have been happier. Steelers + whiskey + good beer + best friend = perfect Sunday night. I think that kind of makes us old men. Oh well. Around half-time, the bartender comes over and says that some guys across the bar bought us drinks. How nice. NOT.

They effectively ruined my enjoyment of the game and whole night. Basically, as soon as we were notified of said drinks, they came over and were the most unattractive, unintelligent, unamusing guys I’ve ever met. Not only that, but because they bought us a drink, I felt obligated to talk to them. I was obviously nowhere near interested. But they just kept talking and talking perhaps thinking that they were doing well. What happened was I couldn’t watch the game because these guys were bugging the crap out of me and they stayed there ’til the end apparently not getting the hint. Somewhere in there they bought us another drink (kind of against our will actually) still trying to win us over, I guess.

Anyway, I automatically resent anything that comes between me and Steelers football. I’m sitting there being a little Polamalu in my jersey and literally living and dying by what’s happening on the TV and this guy thinks it’s a good idea to come over and talk my ear off about stupid stuff like how he’s signed the wrong form at AIP where he used to go to school and is now $4000 in debt because of it (seriously?) and also about how likes “90s music” like Lifehouse. God, help us. Lifehouse is terrible. And also NOT FROM THE 90s. But this kid seemed to think that their first single came out in 1998. Anyway, he’s talking about all this crap thinking that we’re hitting it off or something when I’m sending CLEAR signals about how uninterested I am and getting more irritated that this close game is being interrupted by some guy who even explicitly stated that he’s not that interested in football. Ok, fine. You don’t have to like it but stop ruining my enjoyment of it because I actually do like it.

After the game was over, Desi and I went to peace out ASAP. I mean, I did have to work at 7:30 this morning anyway. Then this guy called me out for texting a lot during our conversation and about the fact that we were leaving and not having a victory beer with them. For real, bro? THEN he said he hopes to see us next week because he “watches” the Steelers game there every week. Uhhh, not happening. Now I can never go back to Hough’s for a Steelers game. Thanks for ruining my favorite thing ever, douche with no social skills. Also, accusing me of not paying enough attention to you is needy/pathetic.

Tangent: Hough’s is becoming more and more ruined which sucks because it really is my favorite bar. Reasons:
1) The crowd seems to be getting older in terms of available men. They all seem to be married.
2) I’ve met a decent amount of guys there so a lot of times when I go back, it’s awkward to see the ones I’ve been out with (and weren’t really into) while I’m on a date with another one. During every moment of singleness in my life over the last few years, I’ve just gone and sat there alone then reliably within 30 minutes (max), a guy comes over and we have a good time. But now I think I’ve exhausted that as a resource. And it’s weird/messy now.
3) It’s where I make pretty much every non-Hough’s guy I meet go on a first date with me. I suggest it and they love it and we have a good time… but again, awkwardness for the same reasons as above. And also, because I feel bad. It makes me feel like Hough’s is some kind of first date assembly line where I lure them in and push them out when I’m done with them and then I get weird about maybe how possibly insincere I’m being because they have no idea that many guys have been there in that spot with me before. I realized this especially when I was there with a guy I actually did like because that felt more significant/special than something that should have happened where I’d been with tons of guys before. No more first dates at Hough’s. It’s decided.
4) It was our Cheers bar back in the day when everything was good between Matt and I and we all went regularly as a group and made lovely memories but now it’s kind of bittersweet and sometimes actually painful to be there because nothing is what it used to be. I’m really more upset about losing the group dynamic than losing Matt.
5) Their specials aren’t as good now that it’s a super popular spot. And it’s reliably crowded. Like sometimes you can’t get a seat. There used to be weeknights when we’d be the only ones in there.

But, ok… back to the real point of this post. Why guys shouldn’t buy drinks (or anything else) for girls.
1)  It makes us feel obligated to talk to you. And maybe you think “Oh, if I can just get her to talk to me…” No. Mostly we’re just annoyed that we have to waste our time doing that unless you’re amazing. If we’re out doing our thing and we don’t make eye contact with you at all the whole night or acknowledge that you’re at the bar or even know that you’re at the bar, don’t waste your time/money. Talk to us first then go from there. What if I had a boyfriend? You would have wasted $4-$8 before you could even find out.
2) Guys who are amazing don’t buy girls drinks. Because:
a) they don’t have to because they’re hot and/or smart and/or funny and/or interesting
b) they know it’s a waste of money because that’s just common sense
3) Related to #2, guys who are way less than awesome buy girls drinks because they have no other way to get them so buying us drinks automatically makes you seem incompetent because that’s what you’re associated with instantly
4) Bitches will take advantage of your drink buying inclination and pump you for them then leave without giving you a number or going home with you or promising to go on a date with you

It’s one thing to start talking to a girl, hit it off, have a pretty good feeling that she’s into you, and then offer to buy her a drink in a casual way. Like “Here, let me get the next one” or something. That’s a nice guy gesture. Not a socially incompetent creeper gesture.

10,000x more successful and cost effective… ”Hi, my name is _____. [Insert something about how you think we're cute]” then follow up with absolutely any conversation starter.

Easy.

Personally, I hate when guys buy me anything in general. It’s unnecessary and almost unappreciated. It freaks me out. Maybe it’s the walls, maybe it’s the independence. Maybe it’s just easier to get to know someone when no one owes anyone anything. Paying for my stuff just takes it to a whole other level. Like a boyfriend level. You don’t have to act like a boyfriend on the 4th date. It’s too much.

I guess I just feel like when they pay for something, it immediately rips away my freedom and the cloud of obligation comes and hangs over my head and I feel tense and I don’t know why. Perhaps I need to man the fuck up and just accept this graciously and not feel bad if it doesn’t work out because they’re the ones who foolishly spend the money and that’s not my problem. But that sentiment sounds equally as hostile as being hostile about the fact that they always try to pay. I also don’t understand why guys are always like “I hate paying for girls because they use me” BUT THEN THEY ALWAYS DO IT. Seriously. I can’t even wrap my brain around this issue and I have no way how I should feel about it or how I should deal with it or how I should react to it. Sigh.

Indian Summer

Ok, so I think it technically has to get legitimately cold and then warm again for the weather to fall under the indian summer category. It was in the 50s a few weeks ago and that’s cold to me so I’m categorizing this day as such just because I can.

Anyway, I’m not blogging about flying today like I promised. It’s too gorgeous outside to sit in front of my computer. High of 79 and pure sunshine. Perfect day for a street festival and BBQ. My two favorite things of all time.

Drew got up outrageously early to go fishing and then called me at 7:30 because apparently it’s the 7th anniversary of the best day of our lives which we’ve never celebrated until now because neither of us really remembered the date before.  Just that it was the best day ever. During idle time at work a few weeks ago (after a Seneca Lake weekend), he figured it out then put a reminder in his phone for today. You people with calendars in your smart phones are living the life. Having a best friend who’s a morning person sucks most of the time. But sometimes it results in the best wake up calls ever. Plus, as long as it’s the weekend, you can just go back to sleep for 20 more hours.

Time flies. 17 doesn’t feel that long ago.

Semi-relevant:

Clocks slay time. Time is dead as long as it is being clicked off by little wheels; only when the clock stops does time come to life.
- William Faulkner, The Sound and the Fury

For the record, I think I hated that book. But I saved the quote because it’s a good one. I think I hated As I Lay Dying too. So William Faulkner novels were not anything I was a fan of. But for some reason I picked up Absalom! Absalom! at the library one day and loved it in every way. Then bought a copy because it was so good. It’s probably one of my top 20 favorite books of all time. And I’ve read a million books so top 20 is kind of a big deal.

Gold Teeth And A Curse For This Town Were All In My Mouth

I totally want to go to Norway someday.

And bedtime stories are still soothing at the advanced age of 24.

And I would be lost without Desi. Best friends are life requisites.