Lord, I’m Coming Home To You

It was too early to come home. I knew that. Unfortuately, I had no choice. And I was so happy to celebrate with James and Rachel. The wedding was FANTASTIC. Really. Best wedding of all time.

Everything with Matt was smooth. Until after the after party. When he wanted to talk. I tried to resist. And held out for a long time. But unfortunately not forever. The man is persistent and I was drunk and weak.

Cue severe emotional trauma.

Charlotte, Desi, and Ryan had to like compression cuddle my sobbing body last night.

It fucking hurts to breathe. I tear up every 10 minutes. My eyes are swollen from crying. And it sucks that I have to be out in public all day.

But it’s over. I never have to see the guy again. Even though the band-aid was way way way ripped off last night and I have to start over with the healing, at least I know that this is the last time I’ll have to start over.

After 3.5 years of starting the healing process over and over again with him, I’m happy to be done.

My flight leaves a little before 8. I got to the airport at like 1:15 because Pittsburgh was suffocating my heart. I need to get on this plane and get back to the Gulf Coast. It’s my safe place.

Why Adults Maintain Sibling Relationships

Well, at least Mary hasn’t forsaken the academia part of her upbringing because she emailed me this article once she read the previous post. It’s a pretty interesting and short read for all you people who have siblings. And it’s super relevant to this conflict of interest that has developed between Mary and I.

One participant stated, “I maintain a relationship with [my sister] because no matter what, she will be my sister, and I have to love her even if sometimes I may not like her.”

Sigh. For the record, I obviously do not approve of her new life choices. However, I will still tell her most of my secrets and get her a Christmas present every year. Just a heads up though, Mary… next year you’re getting a Pens license plate holder and I’m super gluing it on to your car.

My Roaring Twenties

I love NPR.

This article explains so much about myself and the people I know. I kinda wanna read the book now. Gotta find the time to do that first, though.

2 years ago, I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life and I was wasting my time and potential at a job that I hated.

1 year ago, I was becoming increasingly frustrated in my relationship with a guy who absolutely did not have his twenties figured out at all (even though he’s 2.5 years older than me) and always put me at #837 on his priority list.

6 months ago, I was spending more money each month on alcohol and fun times than I was on anything else in my budget (other than rent).

I can honestly say that today I feel like I finally have my shit together… based on what healthy twenty year olds are generally striving for (according to that article/book).

I know what I want to do, who I want to be, and who I want to be with. And making choices that fail to meet those criteria is now unacceptable to me.

The first half of my twenties were invaluable in terms of learning experiences so I don’t want to think of them as disastrous. Without those years, I wouldn’t be here with my feet solidly planted on the ground. Mistakes were made that I’m only now beginning to realize were mistakes. But at least I’m headed in the right direction. And I’m absolutely going to make more mistakes before I’m 30 because that’s just life. But it’s good to realize that I’ve at least learned something about a few things and feel prepared for what’s next.

I think it’s absolutely true that you change the most during your twenties. Before then, everything is theoretical. Living, like nursing, has a steep learning curve. You can know all the theory inside and out but when you actually get your hands on the stuff and have to do it, it’s a whole new ball game. You realize that, in reality, you’re back at square one in terms of knowing what’s going on. And only when you actually begin doing it for real are you able to develop some sort of competency.

The beginning is a rush of stress and new lessons every day. And for that reason, you do change a lot. You find out that what you’ve been or known or done up to that point does not apply to the reality of living real life in the real world. But eventually you gain experience and hit your stride and things fall into place the way they’re supposed to. Essentially, you don’t know what fits you best until you try several things on. Very few people ever get it right the first time. Having theories about real life and living real life are two very different things.

Everyone has different ways they want to live and things they want to accomplish. So I think it’s unfair for outsiders to compare two people in their twenties based on “milestones.” What I like about this article/book is that it seems to be more focused on anxiety levels of twenty-somethings and not necessarily whether they’re able to maintain a serious relationship or other things twenty-somethings are supposed to become adept at.

If you’re unhappy, then yes, your inability to maintain a serious relationship is something that should be explored.

But if you are happy with every aspect of your life (and aren’t actually unhappy while telling yourself you are happy), then who cares if you don’t ever have a long-term significant other or don’t work your way up in the company or any other “goal” of adulthood.

I think the twenties are where you figure out what you want in life and when you want it. As long as you’re happy with that, then you’re probably a healthy twenty-something.

In terms of my “milestones,” I’m a little behind. But I feel like I’m ahead of a lot of people because I’m on the path to reaching them. It seems like a lot of other people are unhappily trying to fulfill theirs through the incorrect means and just for the sake of doing what they’re supposed to do as a young adult.

I think I prematurely hit my quarter-life crisis because I don’t have that sense of feeling lost or hopeless or anxious anymore and I’m not even close to being done with my twenties. I came to terms with what was making me unhappy and what I was worried about and dealt with it. Everything was wrong, so I fixed it. Granted, I’m certainly not at the point I want to be yet. But my plan for how to get there has yet to fail so I don’t feel distressed anymore.

As long as you’re happily working toward something, I don’t think you’re in the crisis phase anymore.

Also, as I indicated before, that “something” is different for everyone.

In term of my QLC, I guess it’s possible that this is just the calm before the storm and the real crisis hasn’t happened yet. Hopefully that’s not the case. Really though… there’s no point in worrying about the “what ifs” because overly planning for the future can cause as much anxiety as not planning for the future at all.

And finally, once you “get your shit together” (i.e. figure out what you want and start making it happen), that doesn’t mean everything has to get serious all of a sudden. I think that was my biggest hurdle. I entered my twenties with the idea that this was my last chance to have fun so I was gonna have as much fun as possible and nothing else really mattered. But that’s kind of an empty life, honestly. Once I got my goals back on track, I actually had more fun having less fun. The time I was out having fun was better appreciated and seemed more fun, I guess.

When I graduate from nursing school, I’m going right back to spending lovely drunken nights with my friends because I have no responsibilities for anything other than myself. But the reason it’s going to be enjoyable is because there are so many other things in my life that make me happy as well. “Having fun and living it up while you can” is not a real fulfilling goal. You always feel some kind of emptiness when that’s your sole priority. It’s good to be fulfilled in other ways. When “fun” is your defining activity, it ceases to be fun. It’s so transient. I guess that’s why.

When I’m 80, I’m going to think back to the 2007-2017 decade and know that it was the most ridiculous 10 years of my life for several reasons, I think. Who knows though. I’m kind of prone to ridiculousness. Although, I think that if it continues into my 30s, it’s going to be like “spontaneously moved to Peru and then traveled throughout the rest of the world because I had no reason not to” ridiculous. And that’s a good thing.

Here’s some semi-related life insight from Sabrina:

Strength is not about what you have, it’s about what you give.

I Miss Yinz N’at

Thunderstorms here are kind of terrifying sometimes. And this is coming from a lifelong thunderstorm lover. 2 minutes ago, lightning came out of nowhere, then a huge window rattling clap of thunder happened like 5 seconds later, then it poured for 1.5 minutes… and that was it. So weird. I miss the land of normal thunderstorms. Because I really feel like I just imagined all of that. It would have been a VERY VIVIDLY imagined event though.

I guess there are still little adjustments to be made even though I’ve been here for 3 months at this point and feel I’ve acclimated quite well.

It’s easier to be away from home when you know you could go back whenever you want. This isn’t The Odyssey. 

I’d pay $10 for one good pierogi though.

And before I go to sleep, sometimes I think about what Pittsburgh looks like at night. It makes me feel calm and grounded.

I think we dream so we don’t have to be apart so long. If we’re in each other’s dreams, we can be together all the time.
- Calvin and Hobbes, Bill Watterson

It’s strange though… Because on Wednesday at lunch, I found myself enjoying time with my Mobile friends just as much as I do when I’m with everyone from home that I’ve known for years. I guess that’s just proof that life always rolls on. But at the same time, it kind of stops. Because I’m pretty sure that when I go back, it’s going to be like I never left and we’ll all just pick up where we left off like no time has gone by at all. In a few cases, however, I made sure there’d be nothing to pick back up before I left. It was the right choice.

Fake It ‘Til You Make It: Part 1

This gem came from r/relationships. And yes, I am subscribed to it. I’m a girl. Emotions are my thing.

Anyway, the back story is that this one girl posted about confronting her BF about shit and how he then said he’d stop and that he wanted to be with her, etc. The classic scenario. Basically all that bullshit that guys are so good at. The bullshit we always fall for. So, this other girl posted some advice. Great advice, actually.

Well. I typically try to be very explanatory and gentle but I think I’ll try on a new hat for today. Drop him. Like a dead dove.

You probably won’t. I’ve been there too. But not dumping him means a lot more manipulation and crying. You’ll get tired of it eventually or he will. If you wanna feel awesome tell him to fuck right off and leave. Never talk to him again and laugh over drinks with your lady friends. Cry at home alone but not for too long. You’ll get over it.

NO. Stop it. I know you’re thinking “but, but, but…”. Just stop. Pretend you’re the kickassest, most independent take no shit mama that ever was. Fake it. Now.

Amen.

This advice is primarily for those ladies who haven’t arrived at that conclusion on their own yet. But it’s also a good refresher for those of us who have been there and done that. Sometimes it’s easy to forget.

Example: I thought I was finally at that point. And I was good and strong for 4 months. Then November 2011 happened. And I learned my lesson the extra hard way. So hard, in fact, that I will forever be a “take no shit mama” at all times for the rest of my life. In that regard, it’s good. But if I could have been spared the pain with the help of a little reminder like that girl’s advice, I would have obviously preferred it.

This is your reminder. Stay strong. Walk out the door. Don’t listen to him when he says he needs you or loves you or wants you or will change. Because when he says that, he’s actually just being a heartless asshole.

Stress About America, Not Marriage

So… State of the Union drinking game… I got a little too drunk. Thank goodness we didn’t have class today. Before you judge me, keep in mind that the outlook has been kind of bleak as of late. Empty promises and false hope all across the board. It’s a difficult thing to stomach without significant intoxication.

The weird thing about my drunk habits is that I always overdress for bedtime. On a sober night, I just sleep in undies and a t-shirt. After a drunk night, I wake up wearing every article of clothing I own. This morning, I got out of bed wearing my Steelers sweats, an IUP t-shirt, and a Penn State hoodie. My intoxicated dressing habits indicate that I’m subconsciously missing the homeland A LOT.

Speaking of home…

‘Cause it’s a long and rugged road
And we don’t know where it’s headed
But we know it’s gonna get us where we’re going
And when we find what we’re looking for
We’ll drop these bags and search no more
‘Cause it’s gonna feel like heaven when we’re home
- The Wailin’ Jennys

Relevant (from 10/2/11): Maybe I need to go everywhere not because I’m a transient non-settler but because I actually believe in home and settling more than anything so I’m desperately searching for exactly the right place?

And the truth is I’ve been dreaming of some tired tranquil place
Where the weather won’t get trapped inside my bones
And if all these years of searching, I find one sympathetic face
Then it’s there I’ll plant these seeds and make my home
- June on the West Coast, Bright Eyes

Yep. More than three months later, I can conclude that the previous sentiment was, in fact, an accurate assessment.

This is also why I have real problems with even getting to the point of considering a relationship with a guy. I mean, some of that does have to do with the Matt disaster, but even before him, I refused to date anyone seriously because I just didn’t like any of them enough. I’m picky, but it’s because I believe in passionate living way too much. And I’m not going to settle down in a place or with a person until I know it’s absolutely worthwhile… in that it has the potential to be exactly right.

A huge part of me knows that home is Pittsburgh because I guess that’s my ultimate goal but there’s obviously something else that’s pulling me away from Pittsburgh and making me need to explore everything. Maybe it’s so I know, with certainty, that Pittsburgh is the place? Maybe I have to know for certain that what I’m looking for isn’t someplace else and that it was in Pittsburgh the whole time. Or I guess the other possibility is that it isn’t Pittsburgh and that’s the reason I left. Which makes me sad because I want it to be Pittsburgh. But obviously, the reason I didn’t stay is because my soul is in search of something else. Or maybe Pittsburgh is the place but I’m subconsciously in search of the person to establish a sense of home with. I don’t know. All I know is that I’m here in Mobile right now. And probably half starting over in New Orleans next January. And then going from there.

It’s hard to feel panicked about anything when you don’t even know what it is that you’re looking for.

And the fact that girls are starting to become afraid of the fact that they might end up as a lonely crazy cat lady with a tedious life is insanity to me. First of all, I would never let my life become lonely because I inherently just stumble across good people who become my lifelong friends. Secondly, I’m never going to have cats. I generally hate them. I might be a crazy dog lady, I guess. That doesn’t even sound so bad though. Thirdly, tedious? Yeah, that’s not gonna happen either. I don’t know how it’s possible to feel like life is uneventful when there’s so much to do and see. And there are always ways you can channel your boredom into helping other people also.

So, I guess even in the worst case scenario of perpetually being single until I die, life still seems pretty damn awesome. Still getting a boat no matter what happens. And having the time and resources and lack of obligations to allow me to actually travel the world regularly seems awesome too. Life is what you make of it. Don’t be stressing about how you feel like you’re not going to get what you want. Make it what you want, no matter what the situation is.

Plus, I feel like all guys our age are just developmentally behind in some way. They don’t have the same values or motivation. I’m tired of babysitting. But I’m not ready to date 30 year olds either. Maybe in another 3-4 years I will be. We’ll see what happens.

So, all that stress that’s out there… I just don’t feel it or understand it. I really really have no idea why everyone else is FREAKING OUT about this. Let’s all just relax, ladies. Don’t define yourself by the existence of men in your life. Live it up. That’s what our twenties were for. Honestly, once you have that first kid, your little black dresses will never look the same, if you can even fit back into them at all. And you won’t have time to go out and wear them either. I’m really seeing no perks of being married right now. It all seems like one big disadvantage to me. Date men, yes. Marry them, no. Freak out about not being married, DEFINITELY NOT.

Various And Sundry

Prepare for the onslaught. There’s a lot of stuff in here. I’m considering putting an index at the beginning so you can just skip to what you want haha.

Just to get this out of the way, here’s the Ryan Adams road mix that I promised to post forever ago.

And I think I might do my nursing practicum in the neuro ICU. It just feels like the right decision which is weird because I didn’t think I’d feel so inclined toward something so early. I wanna test reflexes every two hours. I think being an orthopedic surgical nurse would be sweet too though. I love muscles and bones. It seems like everyone else in my program wants to do labor and delivery. I’m personally terrified (probably irrationally) of that clinical rotation. I’m pretty sure I can handle most types of trauma and all the blood and/or exposed insides that comes with it but I know for a fact that I can’t handle a dead baby. It’s too devastatingly sad. They didn’t get a chance to live AT ALL. The second saddest thing in the world is a mom who died giving birth to a baby. And I know that most moms/babies are ok. But everyone sees at least either a dead mom or a dead baby during their OB/L&D rotation and I am definitely not looking forward to it. I’m too emotionally weak. The other thing that’s appealing about the neuro ICU is that it’s quiet and calm but there’s also a lot of pressure because people are only in the ICU if they’re in some kind of critical condition. I need pressure or else my life falls apart.

Homesickness update: still hasn’t stopped. It’s ups and downs. Last night when I was out, I heard Don’t Stop Believing and then Bohemian Rhapsody and I really just wanted to be drunk singing at Bar11 with everyone in Pittsburgh instead of people in Mobile. And I think the reason I’m homesick for the first time ever is because of how things were when I left (with the whole “not really being on good terms with some people because of the Matt aftermath tension” thing) and the subsequent realization that we didn’t really have the long-term friendships that I thought we did. So, it’s not just that I’m sad I’m not in Pittsburgh right now. It’s moreso the fact that when I go back, it’s not going to be the same at all. I’m more sad about the end of an era than I am about being in Alabama because I do actually freaking love it here. Yesterday, I had something that was basically the equivalent of a grilled cheese sandwich with bacon, a crab cake, and a fried green tomato. Previously, I thought that whiskey was the most delicious thing in the world. This grilled cheese crab cake thing was better. Whiskey, you are now #2.

I also realized how much I love being single in my mid-twenties and forced to meet new people and have new experiences as a result of this move. I have a closet full of little black dresses and definitely more heels and pearls than I need and I love living it up right now because I know this moment is fleeting. These are  my Audrey Hepburn days or something and I’m going out with as many charming southern men as I can before they’re over. Although, I still feel weird about the guys always opening doors for me and such. I don’t know if that will ever go away. I also kind of feel bad that I have no intentions to be serious with any of them. You’d really have to hardcore sweep me off my feet to get me into a relationship right now. I’m way too broken for that currently.

“Never love a wild thing, Mr. Bell,” Holly advised him. ‘That was Doc’s mistake. He was always lugging home wild things. A hawk with a hurt wing. One time it was a full-grown bobcat with a broken leg. But you can’t give your heart to a wild thing: the more you do, the stronger they get. Until they’re strong enough to run into the woods. Or fly into a tree. Then a taller tree. Then the sky. That’s how you’ll end up, Mr. Bell. If you let yourself love a wild thing. You’ll end up looking at the sky.”
- Breakfast at Tiffany’s, Truman Capote

And JoePa’s first interview is up. And I have that sickness in my stomach again. And my heart hurts a little again. But not as bad as before. I feel like the interview isn’t resolving anything for me. Probably because the whole thing is just irresolvable and I’ll forever have mixed feelings about it.

Football isn’t life. Sports aren’t life. But I’m weirdly starting to realize that they’re probably more important than I want to admit. They’re so socially and culturally critical to me. And also in general, I guess. As a Latin American Studies kid in college, we always talked about the soccer culture and it’s importance in Central and South America. And we know what sports ancient civilizations used to play and how it related to their values, beliefs, etc. It seems neanderthal-ish to think about it like this because I feel like whenever you see or hear a person taking any given sporting event way too seriously, you tend to think they’re some kind of backwards unintelligent person or something. Kind of like how a lot of people think Steelers fans are all primitive working class people (there’s not even anything wrong with being working class) from Western PA.

Maybe we do take football too seriously there though. I guess I’ve always heard that football in Pittsburgh is bigger than football in most places, but I haven’t lived in enough places to know for sure. This article was probably the most recent thing I read that mentioned the Pittsburgh/football connection. And the Pittsburgh Dad Steelers episode was pretty much dead on which is why it’s hilarious (although, all Pittsburgh Dad episodes would be better without the laugh track). I mean, pretty solid proof of the fact that Pittsburghers love football more than air is probably the entire pick-up sports season of 2008-2009. No matter what we started playing, we always ended up playing football… to the point that we just started playing football every week and didn’t try to pretend like we were going to play anything else. And at first, I was kinda bummed. To me, it was like “Damn yinzers and their football. Why can’t we keep playing capture the flag?” The only thing I love more than pick-up football in the mud is capture the flag. If it was a professional sport, I’d be an all-star. It should be a professional sport. One of my life goals is probably to make it a professional sport. I don’t know how watchable it is though. I guess it’s not really anything that spectators could get into. Shannon and I would find a way to make it entertaining though. We rocked that shit. By the time this happens, I’ll probably be too old to play in the NCTFL but I can be the commissioner. After a summer of being a camp counselor, I have the expertise. The only foreseeable negative about professional CTF is the fact that training would probably entirely consist of running suicides. What other kind of training do you do need? CTF requires sprinting, slowing down or stopping briefly to pick up the flag, then sprinting again. Sometimes you have to push people if you play unethically. I guess there’s also some agility and quick momentum shifts to avoid or catch people but suicides pretty much cover that too.  Maybe you’re thinking, “Psh, what’s wrong with suicides?” Are you SERIOUS? Everything about them is terrible. That’s why they’re called suicides. I will admit that they help you reach nirvana though. Like in that moment where you really think you’re going to collapse instead of being able to touch the line and start running again, you somehow pull it off then enter into an out of body experience where all life’s answers are revealed to you. It’s probably because you’re experiencing pre-death events.

Anyway, if I was commissioner, Pittsburgh would obviously have one of the first CTF teams and it’d be an easy transition for fans because I’d name them the Pittsburgh Stealers (best name for a CTF team ever, right?) even though that might cause some confusion. But everyone could wear their regular Steelers gear and just put an A over the second E at CTF games. People wear their Steelers gear to Pirates games already anyway. And Pens stuff too. It’s the only thing that makes them feel better at the end of the game when the Pirates have lost again, I guess. Although, for awhile last season, you saw less and less Steelers/Pens stuff and more Pirates shirts/jerseys because people were getting excited about baseball again. People actually started going to games too. They didn’t even have $1 hot dog night anymore and PNC Park was still selling out. That obviously didn’t last forever though. The final game I went to was the August 5th one where they lost to the Padres by like 10 runs. During the 6th inning, we made the wave go around 20-ish times (the record for a professional sports game, probably) and people were cheering for it every time it was headed to their section. Yeah, people were cheering for the wave and not the team. And then at the end, people started chanting stuff about the Steelers. And in that moment, I realized we were back to Pirates games the way they’d always been my whole life and everyone had given up again. A CTF team in Pittsburgh would give people another thing to be joyful about and would lessen the baseball pain. In Pittsburgh, maybe we’re too serious about sports in general.

I see it more as dedication/love though. If it’s critical to our social/cultural experience and relationships with people (more on that later), then it makes sense that we’re serious about it. We should be serious about it because relationships are important. Two Steelers fans e-mailed me with criticism about the Jesus and the Steelers post. And despite the criticism, it made me smile because I love that people love the Steelers. I’m shocked that anyone ever reads this stuff though. The first person pointed out that the whole Ben rape case thing is water under the bridge at this point. And I most certainly agree. Most of that post was totally ridiculous/unserious. I mean, I kind of wrote a fake Bible verse. That’s straight up heresy. The second person said that I shouldn’t hate on Sepulveda for always being hurt. And first of all, I didn’t really hate. Maybe I sounded bitter but it wasn’t real hate. I’m just bummed because he’s the most badass punter in the NFL so it sucks that he can’t play… ever. In the 5 seasons he’s been a Steeler, he’s been hurt 3 times. I guess my opinion is that we should just get a new starting punter which sucks because, as I said, he’s awesome. Remember the fake punt pass versus the Titans? Badass. And when I was looking for a something on YouTube to prove the normal Christianity thing, I found a clip that was basically him signing autographs and the guy who’s taking the video says to his kid, “It’s Sepulveda, the punter. Look at the guns on the punter,” which is hilarious (I actually laughed out loud) and it also proves that I’m not the only one who thinks that Sepulveda is the most badass punter in the NFL. And that means that the Steelers are the best team in the NFL because even our punter is a superhero. Maybe I’m just a biased Steelers fan. I don’t actually know anything about punting. I’m pretty sure all Steelers fans think they’re experts about everything. Watch that Pittsburgh Dad episode again and think about any conversation you’ve ever had at work or a bar you’ll realize that it’s the truth. We care. A lot.

But seriously, you should have seen the Alabama fans leading up to the game on Monday and then afterwards. They’re at least equal with us. Apparently, they Roll Tide, Roll during Sweet Home Alabama. I was at the bar last night when I found this out (because they were all doing it) and immediately I wanted to be an Alabama fan so I could be a part of that. And I think that was the first twinge of “sports are important” because I started to think about it’s cultural significance and unification factor. I got kinda homesick again because it’s exactly like when Sweet Caroline comes on in a Pittsburgh bar and everyone yells “Let’s Go Pitt” and “Go Pitt” and such at the appropriate times. In those moments, no matter who you are or where you’re from or why you love Pitt, you’re all in that boat together. It’s kind of a spiritual experience. Like that same feeling people get from religion.

It’s the same way at actual games. It’s better at games, actually. Because not only are you all there in that one place together, but you all feel the same things. You all feel the disbelief when your QB throws an interception and you also all feel the tension when you need a TD to win and there’s like 20 seconds left. And then the explosive joy when they get that TD and you’re hugging the stranger next to you. Football (and sports in general) just brings people together. The best moments of my life were those in the Oakland Zoo during tight games when Pitt pulled it off. There really aren’t words to adequately describe that sheer happiness or universality you feel with everyone else that’s there with you. And college basketball is my #1 favorite sport to watch so of course it always felt super epic.

It’s heartbreaking when it’s bad though. One night, after one of Pitt’s more devastating March Madness losses, crazy things happened. People got drunk. Real drunk. It was serious drinking. NO ONE remembered what happened  the next day… other than the fact that we lost, obviously. Someone (NOT ME, for the record) got pregnant. Yeah, that drunk. Sad drunk. I never want to be that kind of drunk again. Your team consistently way underperforming during the tournament is not something that you ever get used to so I’ll probably be that kind of sad drunk again at some point. I also remember when Pitt was playing Cincinnati for the Big East football championship and they blew a HUGE lead. They were up by like more than 3 touchdowns. Here I am FREEZING MY ASS OFF with everyone else (because it was the first day it snowed that year and we were underprepared) and then they go and lose like that. Thanks, Pitt football. You suck. All the time. But at least we were all cold and sad together.

Sports are one of the few lifetime constants. It doesn’t matter which sport(s) you love or what your favorite team is. A lot of times, your fandom is given to you the day you’re born and you carry it with you until you die and it’s passed down over generations and generations of people. My grandfather has Alzheimer’s pretty badly and he’s really out of it a lot of times and often agitated by the fact that he can’t remember anything or live the way he used to, but when you turn on a PSU or Steelers football game, it’s like nothing is different. And apparently Nonnie prays for the coaches/players of our teams which is hilarious/adorable to me. She’s been praying for JoePa for years and years and then I just found out from Mary that she prays for Ben Roethlisberger every day too and has been even before the rape scandal. And that’s one of the reasons I love her so much. If anyone else did that, I’d probably think it was a little ridiculous. But she’s Nonnie and that’s just what she does. She’s a hardcore prayer. And the most perfect person I’ve ever known and probably ever will know.

My mom and dad used to sing a lullaby version of Fight On, State to us when they rocked us to sleep. I’m pretty sure both my siblings and I took my parents’ original Terrible Towel to school for show and tell at least a few times each which irritated all the Bills fans we grew up with. I also remember taking the Jaromir Jagr peanut butter. A few summers ago, Matt took me on a romantic afternoon/evening date that started with a picnic and ended with Steelers training camp. And even though I hate him now, it was one of the best days of my life. My mom talks about how she was pregnant with me during the 1987 Fiesta Bowl when Penn State won the national championship and jokingly says that she was probably depriving me of oxygen because she kept holding her breath. Sports are linked to stories and memories and landmarks in time.

Here’s proof that this stuff is indoctrinated at birth. I was born a Penn State fan and I will die that way too. Have you hugged your Nittany Lion today?

And the other thing that made Penn State football so special and damn important as a social/cultural/life influence was the fact that it was all about integrity and that’s probably why the whole scandal thing rocked my world because the integrity thing is now partially undermined. A huge amount of my values and work ethic were influenced by JoePa (the man is/was a legend) and the Penn State football program and now it kind of feels like all of that is forever tainted. I don’t think it’s right that they fired him the way they did and I don’t think that he’s the person who’s most at fault in this and I do think that he got thrown under the bus… but on the other hand, it’s definitely true that he could have and should have done more. This is child rape. That’s not something you mess around with or hesitate to take care of in anyway.

Still, we’re human. We make huge mistakes. Don’t just assume that you would have acted any better or done anything differently. The diffusion of responsibility is a pretty well studied phenomenon.

I think it’s ridiculous to now be ignoring everything that JoePa has done for his players and the community and the university and college sports and even sports in general. On a personal level, he is incredibly responsible for everything I believe about motivation and success and people’s inherent worth.

Believe deep down in your heart that you’re destined to do great things.
- Joe Paterno

The article that went with the interview pointed out so many things/characteristics that I love about JoePa and I really do believe that he’s a guy who lived with integrity/honor/decency at his core and taught that to everyone. He was incredibly grounded and influential. Because of him, integrity, honor, and decency are so deeply ingrained in me that I will never be able to live my life without those guiding principles and I’m a better person because of it. He taught me about teamwork and humbleness. But also pride and confidence at the same time. And I’m just a Penn State football fan. Who knew how deeply he impacted the people who actually knew him. He was a great man. He’s been my hero for the last 24 years and I refuse to condemn everything about him just because of a situation that revealed to us that he’s human. Everyone else can hate him and blame him and sentence him to live the rest of his life without the respect he deserves. But I recognize that most of us wouldn’t have done much better in the situation because people suck in general. We fail each other in huge ways. I think Joe has done more good for the world than bad. And that’s how you measure someone’s value.

All his words that I lived by are a little bit tainted now though. I will love him and respect him for the rest of my life but things are a lot different in the aftermath. And it’s going to be weird to be a Penn State fan without JoePa as the coach but it’s still Penn State football and I will love it just as much as I always have.

This makes me feel a lot better anyway.

Its the name on the front of the jersey that matters most, not the one on the back.
- Joe Paterno

I’m really optimistic about coach O’Brien preserving the JoePa legacy.

WE ARE PENN STATE.

We will forever be Penn State.

I think I’m finally out of things to say. But I’ll leave yinz with my favorite quote from the interview/article…

My thing was play as hard as you can, don’t be stupid, pay attention to details, and have enough guts in the clutch that you’re not afraid to make a play.

That’s some damn good advice for life in general and applies to basically every life scenario. Don’t be stupid. Pay attention to details. And have enough guts in the clutch that you’re not afraid to make a play.

Football isn’t exactly life… but they sure do have a lot of things in common. Lots of lessons and lots of ups and downs.

And even though I’m 1,000 miles away from everyone, our teams make me feel close to them. Which is why I took the Steelers loss so badly this year, probably. At this point, as long as both the Ravens and the Pats lose, I’m happy. Also, someone fix the Pens. And Sidney Crosby

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

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.

The Wilderness Downtown

The Wilderness Downtown

It’s genius. Oh my God, it’s genius. And beautiful. And heart-wrenching. I love 2011. And the art that people make with technology.

Careful, though. You might cry buckets. I definitely did. It was more like slow infrequent tears until this part:

Write a postcard of advice to the younger you that lived there then.

Letters to a young poet.

The Iguazu Falls were streaming from my face at that point. Then there’s the end with the running kid and the trees. Plus, the whole Arcade Fire thing.

We used to waste hours just walkin’ around
We used to wait
All those wasted lives in the wilderness downtown

Holy crap, Chris Milk. Whoever you are.

I’m too sensitive when it comes to anything related to the past. Or home. Or growing up. True story: there are two people on my street who have the exact same cars as my brother and sister. Like same models/colors. It’s weird.  So every day I come home and I see those cars and I immediately get a little heartsick from missing them. Ugh. Grow a pair, Liz.

Moving on… I love Chrome Experiments. Especially the Ok Go video. Seriously, how do they freakin outdo themselves every damn time? Also, the song is so POSITRON. I can’t help but think of this every time I watch it though :/

White Knuckles might forever be my favorite though. Dogs, obvi.

Also, old Ok Go. Lame video, great song. My amygdala dedicates it to the evil ex every time it shuffles up on my iPod. Can’t wait he gets over it. Then I can hang out with my friends again. I’m so damn tired of having to be the bigger person. I’m tense and anxious from lack of socialization. I’m trying to be ok but it’s hard. It really just makes me hate him more than miss him. Hate is unhealthy. I hate feeling this way. The hate also makes me hate myself for doing this to myself. Then I have like 10 “WTF was I doing?” moments every day. I had to change so much to fit into the shape of what I needed to be to make that relationship work that the unhappiness was chronic. Why did I stay for so long? Why did we always keep going back?

Here’s my deepest, darkest secret: I’ve seen all the episodes of Jersey Shore. I’m only bringing it up because there was one shining instance of worthwhileness in this weeks episode that happens to be kind of really relevant to this post.

In a rare moment of being human instead of batshit crazy, Snooki delivered this emotionally agonizing line in a weirdly sincere (although sobby) way…

I’m not happy. I’m not happy with him. But I love him. So it sucks.

Granted, her boyfriend left because she was being a crazy trashy whore in the club… but he’s not really a winner either. And if you’re gonna date Snooki, you have to know that’s gonna happen. Regardless as to the backstory behind her sadness, that sentiment is legit. We’ve all been there. LAST 22 MONTHS OF MY LIFE. How can you be unhappy with someone but love them at the same time? Another instance of emotions NOT MAKING SENSE.

Anyway, I kind of watch Jersey Shore and think to myself that these people are just like us, they’re just more extreme versions. I mean, they get paid to be obnoxious but it’s true that there’s all kinds of outrageous drama in real life too. TV is just edited in a way so that you’re hit over the head with days worth of drama in 60 minutes so it seems like a lot.

But getting to the point that ties all these things together, when I recall the unhappiness and compare that to my life today, it’s easier to cope with the lack of social events in my life. I’m happier now than I was then (even with limited friend interactions) and this is just part of the sucky aftermath that I have to deal with. For the first time ever, I would not go back to that relationship if you paid me $1 million. I really just broke it off, walked away, and was done. Of course there were a few nights of residual missing him here and there but it was never like “oh, what have I done?” regret about breaking up or anything like that.

Sing it, girl. Walk Away.

I am the maker of my own destiny.

Relevant:

But since you been gone,
I can breathe for the first time
I’m so moving on
Thanks to you,
now I get what I want

That whole song is weirdly our whole relationship and the aftermath exactly in every way.

Anyway, you can blame Rainer Maria Rilke for why I have this stuff on the brain. I’m so hooked on Letters to a Young Poet right now.

It is true that many young people who love falsely, i.e., simply surrendering themselves and giving up their solitude (the average person will of course always go on doing that–), feel oppressed by their failure and want to make the situation they have landed in livable and fruitful in their own, personal way–. For their nature tells them that the questions of love, even more than everything else that is important, cannot be resolved publicly and according to this or that agreement; that they are questions, intimate questions from one human being to another, which in any case require a new, special, wholly personal answer–. But how can they, who have already flung themselves together and can no longer tell whose outlines are whose, who thus no longer possess anything of their own, how can they find a way out of themselves, out of the depths of their already buried solitude?

Mistakes are staring me in the face and haunting my dreams. Oh, what did I do? Ehh, I guess just learned the hard way. Nothing that catastrophic. And at least now it’s a lesson that I will never forget. I weirdly thought that because the only thing that really has ever mattered and ever will matter is love, that it was worth pursuing above all else. WRONG. I mean, that’s true to an extent because I still believe that about love. Like I would not even hesitate to drop my own stuff to raise kids even if it meant putting my career goals on hold. I would have no problem working at a high paying job I hated if something happened to my significant other and I had to support us. I would move across the country in a heartbeat if my serious boyfriend landed his dream job and had to go and we decided that there was a decent chance we had a future together. But on some level, you have to know that they would do exactly the same thing for you. And you make decisions together when your dreams conflict. The worthwhile type of love is the one where you encourage your significant other to maximize their personal potential and self-worth. Basically, self-actualize. And they do that for you. And you both become better and more successful versions of yourselves because of it. Because you have that support and comfort and love.

There’s a fine line between the selfless devotion of love and losing your whole self. Basically, they key point is knowing that they would do for you what you do for them and acknowledge which choices maximize the benefits for both of you. Min/max optimization calc problem. Easy.

They’re your partner in crime. You’re still intact as single entities and you want each other to be exactly who you are as individuals because you love them for their whole and true selves.

Love is like a good high-five. You go 50, I go 50. In a bad high-five, someone doesn’t pull their weight and it’s not a solid success with a good smack in the middle but rather a weird slip or an entire miss or one hand pushes the other one back instead of them both just stopping after the hit.

This advance (at first very much against the will of outdistanced men) will transform the love experience, which is now filled with error, will change it from the ground up, and reshape it into a relationship that is meant to be between one human being and another, no longer one that flows from man to woman. And this more human love (which will fulfill itself with infinite consideration and gentleness, and kindness and clarity in binding and releasing) will resemble what we are now preparing painfully and with great struggle; the love that consists in this: that two solitudes protect and border and greet each other.

I love the last part. Especially the border part. You’re still just two people. But you take care of each other and interact with each other in a way that you can’t do with anyone else. You are autonomous humans but coexist next to each other in life with a spiritual understanding that flows between.

I cannot wait to experience this type of love. The post-breakup healing is going amazingly well and soon enough I’ll be whole again and able to put some emotional resources toward a relationship.

I’m gonna write a letter to my true love
I’m gonna sign my name
Like a patient on a table
I wanna walk again
Gonna move through the pain

And obviously I’m making this sound way easier than it actually is. And honestly, what the hell do I even know about this type of love since I’ve never experienced it? I might just be a blithering idealist. But at least Rainer Maria Rilke and I can be blithering idealists together.

Now I’m going to quote a viewpoint which undermines and contradicts everything I just wrote up there… but I can’t help but find this to be incredibly fairytale-ish yet appealing.

In his dialogue The Symposium, Plato has Aristophanes present a story about soulmates. Aristophanes states that humans originally had four arms, four legs, and a single head made of two faces, but Zeus feared their power and split them all in half, condemning them to spend their lives searching for the other half to complete them.
- Wiki, on the topic of soulmates 

I kind of just love the idea of two people completing each other. I can’t help it. Especially in a destiny sense. Where you need the other person in order to be finished and perfect.

Sigh. Hopeless contradictions of everything in my brain every day. Doomed to make more mistakes. Forever.

Nope. Never mind. Fuck that sentiment. This is on the front page of Reddit right now and it brought me back to my senses. I’m on a metaphysical journey to find MYSELF and not a soulmate who completes me.

I don’t know when I’ll be back.