Category Archives: break-ups

49 Days Later

My new boyfriend became my ex-boyfriend in late September. It was an amicable breakup and we’ve been able to maintain a healthy friendship. It’s nice to know that not all relationships have to end in disaster and I’m more open to them than I was previously.

Kelly, the Pittsburgh Rachel, and I had a crazy girls weekend in New Orleans shortly thereafter. It was almost as nuts as The Hangover. I’ve never done so many shameful things in a three day period. And I came home physically (and probably morally) broken. When you’re with tourists and spend every night in the French Quarter, New Orleans becomes the real Sin City. Everyone’s predicting that my life is going to fall apart when I move there in a month-ish. But I don’t think people fully appreciate/understand New Orleans. It’s so much more than drinking.  Although, when James, Rachel, Laura, and Julian come down for Mardi Gras, I’m mentally prepared to hate myself for the entirety of the following week.

The Mobile Rachel and I drove to Atlanta a few weeks ago to see Dispatch at the Tabernacle. One of the coolest venues I’ve ever been to AND the best show I’ve ever seen AND I got to meet them AND Pete and Braddigan signed my shirt. I’m not exaggerating when I tell people that it was the best day of my life.

The whole thing was especially crazy because I didn’t even fucking know they were touring again until like two weeks beforehand. We were at Serda’s doing clinical paperwork and Rachel mentioned that they were coming to Atlanta and I almost fell off the freaking bench from shock. Apparently, this isn’t even their first tour since getting back together to play again. I just assumed it was over forever so I didn’t bother to stay up-to-date. Lesson learned. Never give up on your life-long favorite bands.

Good Old War opened. And they were sweet/catchy/acoustic and made everyone all happy/wiggly. Check them out.

Also, at the tender age of 25, I realized how old I was. Say It Ain’t So started playing between bands and half the people geeked out and sang along like their life depended on it. The other half didn’t. And I realized that it was because they were too young to really have been truly affected by The Blue Album. I’m pretty sure that I’ve almost exclusively listened to Dispatch and Weezer since that night.

Anyway, nursing school turned me into a workaholic. Even though things are theoretically supposed to be more relaxed now, I’m intentionally staying outrageously busy because when I have free time, I feel empty and agitated. You can become so accustomed to stress that you can’t function without it. On top of practicum hours in the ED and stuff for online classes, I started volunteering at a community health clinic to fill the void. I can’t stop.

Finally, I’m going to die without hockey. Fuck the lockout.


Dating In The Bible Belt

OkCupid in Pittsburgh is a good way to meet people and have fun and I had moderate success with it last fall.

OkCupid in Mobile is confusing. Dating in the bible belt isn’t gonna work for me. I knew that in February but I decided to try again to fill the recently reopened void.

Real answers to real questions from real people:

Q: Do you think homosexuality is a sin?
A: Yes I think it is a sin if we define sin by the bible because it does say that but I don’t have a problem with gay people. I have gay friends and honestly think gay marriage should be legal. So yes I do think the bible considers it a sin but it also says the same about lieing or breaking mans laws such as speeding and we all sin I mean… We are human.

Q: Do you believe contraception is morally wrong?
A: Morally, yes. But until it is time for a ring, contraception is a must.

That second guy listed sex as one of the 6 things he can’t live without.

At least they’re trying?

And I respect people’s right to different opinions. But I can’t date people with different opinions like those. Especially confusing/astonishing/mystifying opinions.

I’m a 54% match with almost everyone here. In Pittsburgh, it’s rare that I’m below 75%.

But then again, OkC really does attract the weirdos no matter where you are. For every one good guy on OkC Pittsburgh, there were 30 weird ones. So maybe these guys aren’t really representative of all the eligible men here. But being that I don’t have time to really live a life outside of nursing school, it’s my only option.

In my dream life, I meet a guy during summer kickball and we fall in love and live happily ever after. In my real life, I’m hesitant to sign up for fear of the Alabama heat. And the fact that my summer clinical schedule is yet to be determined.

I think I’m also just having a weak moment. Because last week at this time, all I wanted to do was be single. But then there was the altercation with the ex. And now I’m broken and lonely all over again.

Really, I don’t even want to be with someone in a relationship. I just want to flirt with someone. And watch superhero movies on the couch with intermittent periods of making out.

In the 24 hour period between Monday and Tuesday night, I watched Iron Man, Iron Man 2, The Incredible Hulk, Captain America, and Thor by myself. And drank a fifth of whiskey (that probably happened in 12 hours or less) by myself. And at the end of this week, I’m probably going to go see The Avengers by myself.

Forever alone. Lolo Jones is my inspiration for being able to embrace and then publicly admit these things.

While trying to console myself by looking for New Orleans apartments on Craigslist (because I know for a fact that NOLA men are better because I’ve experienced it), I found out that during my whiskey palooza I was looking at apartments in Austin. What the hell, subconscious?

I mean, to be fair, I have more or less decided that Austin is what comes after New Orleans. Austin is where grown-up liberals who like hot weather and good music and a laid-back atmosphere go to live. So when I’m a grown-up liberal, that’s where I’ll be. But the 25 year old version of myself is headed straight to NOLA until I’m ready to act like I’m 28.

Sadly, drunk Liz was apparently skipping ahead a little bit on Monday night.

Ugh. I just need to get back into my groove.

This is a perfect summary of my life leading up to the post-afterparty situation on Saturday night.

Except my ex isn’t an innocent feeble old man. And I don’t have the power to have anyone thrown out the window.

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.

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.


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.

Hmm, Control.

Hiatus: done.

The Penn State thing just about did me in. I refuse to comment on it in depth at this point but I will say that it honestly does feel like I lost my religion. Nothing is as it was and nothing will ever be the same again. Everything I believed in has been absolutely undermined. I went to the Nebraska game. It was like going to a funeral.

Then that devastation was soon followed by my ex-boyfriend doing absolutely one of the worst things that you can do to a person and rebreaking my heart all over again (as soon as I had solid closure) and without remorse. Needless to say, the combo of those two things made me feel absolutely dead inside for a good 5 weeks and I needed a break from everything. I kind of withdrew from 98% of all types of communication but I’m back now to share some holiday cheer!

You can’t help but feel hopeful during Christmas. Get this album. No more sadness. I dare you to hate Christmas music now, bitches. We all have a light inside of us and there are things, like Sufjan Stevens Christmas songs, that unbury it from whatever wreckage it’s under.

I don’t love Christmas for the presents. I love Christmas for the love. And the lights. And the fireplaces. And the family. And the friends. And the food. And the alcohol. If I never got another gift as long as I lived, those would be enough to keep me happy forever.

It’s also a reflective time. With the end of the year quickly approaching and a big move in 4 days, I can’t help but evaluate the last 12 months and assess the lessons I’ve learned as I pack my life away into bins and boxes.

My general thought right now is that I would benefit from something like this.

Hmm. Control, control. You must learn control.
– Yoda

Relevant (from PostSecret, obv):

I think that right there is more or less is the relationship I do have with some people.  I’m a young Padawan. I appreciate all the Yodas in my life who really need me to get my shit together. I’ve been a disaster lately. Thanks, guys. I love you.

Some activities/habits/interests enhance personal growth and make you a better person. Everything I know about hard work and self-discipline, I learned from growing up as a ballerina. Aside from being incredible exercise, the things you learn because of what it requires spill over into all other aspects of your life.

Running is another one of those activities. And it just taught me one of the most important lessons of my life. I think I had the clarity to acknowledge/analyze about 50 significant life mistakes all in one moment. Patience and self-control are now two characteristics I can say that I’ve partially conquered, I think.

Basically, I was running so much and so hard that I was hardcore overdoing it but I refused to stop because it was the only thing that made me feel better about anything. I went running three times in one day which is an absolutely terrible thing to do. Marco, running expert/coach, told me I was going to hurt myself but I refused to listen because I’m a stubborn asshole. Lo and behold, I hurt myself. It started as a slight strain which I kept pushing and not stretching which eventually built up so much that I could hardly walk because it hurt so bad. Only then did I decide to chill the fuck out. And the injury weirdly became maybe one of the best things to ever happen to me.

An important thing to know about my previous running habits was that I never ever stretched. My inherent impatience means that I like instant gratification and zero to sixty situations. My inherent attitude about life makes me feel like I can do anything and don’t have to listen to anybody. Essentially, I feel invincible/unhurtable most of the time. And honestly, I’ve been running for years and not stretching has never been a problem. However, I’ve never been running this much or this hard or for such long distances.

Basic running policy is that you do an easy warm up like walking or slow jogging to get your muscles ready then you stretch for 5-10 minutes. I skipped all of that. I’d walk down the front steps of my porch or get out of my car if I was running a trail or different city loop then take off like itwas nobody’s business because I loved that feeling of just being able to go and how instantly everything felt better. Being impatient means that I hate waiting and also hate the slow/steady work that goes into things.

So the whole no stretching thing probably started the injury then my refusal
to quit or acknowledge pain made it worse and everything came crashing down when it hurt too much to walk and I realized I’d ruined myself. I pushed it too hard on Saturday night of Halloween weekend and woke up pretty sore then decided it was a good idea to go running that Sunday. Worst decision ever. By Monday, I was nearly immobile and realized I wouldn’t be able to run for many
many days. Basically, because of my own stupidity and refusal to quit, I wrecked my ability to do the only thing that was making me happy.

Reasons why this actually ended up being ok:
1) I realized that I can be happy and deal with my anger/hostility issues without running. Plus, they’ve subsided anyway. I think that’s emotional progress. Real people feel sadness. Monsters feel anger.
2) I had one of the biggest paradigm shifts of my life. My attitude about everything was so wrong and destructive. I’m now face to face with this and I feel like I’ve finally cracked the code as to why everything was broken in every way. Perhaps you kind of have to destroy yourself in certain ways before you can get anywhere. Especially when you’ve wrecked everything else first. Sometimes things are just unsalvageable.

When there’s nothing left to burn, you have to set yourself on fire.
– Stars, Your Ex Lover is Dead

Obviously, there were little glimmers of constructive and positive thoughts/emotions in there. But overall, somewhere along the road, I turned into this dark and broken person and I was too blind to understand where it was coming from or why it was there.

Then sometime in November, I went on a rehab run that changed everything. My attitude had ruined my body and that ruined my habit so then I had to acknowledge the whole thing and start over  which was kind of the most liberating thing I’ve ever felt because now I understand the consequences and appreciate the fact that a little patience and calm go a long way. I don’t really wanna make a “slow and steady wins the race” analogy here because it’s a slightly imperfect analogy but I do kind of feel like the tortoise instead of the hare now. Had I been patient and not crazy, I wouldn’t have missed 10ish days of running. If I had stretched, I wouldn’t have pulled anything. If I had taken it easy when I pulled something, I would have been out for one or two days instead of 10. I would have been able to walk without pain. I wouldn’t have to rebuild so slowly and carefully.

Now that I’ve made the mistakes and started over, I’m a better runner with a healthier attitude about it and life. I took a step back to heal and recover slowly instead of pushing it because I was destroying myself. I think that kind of applies to everything I’ve done in the last year. A lot of self-destruction and impatience and refusal to appropriately deal with things. Some of that has been stress related and the basic fact that sometimes you just need to get shit done. I was on hyperdrive all summer while working full-time and taking 2 semesters of A&P in 12 weeks. You can’t do that unless you force yourself to shut down and enter sheer survival mode. Then I guess there was the breakup stuff right after that and then the breakup aftermath stuff and I never really came down from all of it until the beginning of this month when I had closure (then of course he fucked me up again but it’s cool because I’ll soon be an untouchable 800 miles away). Anyway, I guess I’ve just realized that you can’t just always push through things. We’re not physical, mental, or emotional superheroes.

I’m not unbreakable. That was a really difficult thing for me to acknowledge because in my head, I’m fierce and I can do anything and there are no limits. Physically, mentally, or emotionally. I thought I could run forever and learn anything and not have to feel heartbreak feelings and just move on instead. But I kind of feel happier now that I’m forced to recognize that I’m human just like everyone else. I feel more connected and less dead. We’re all in this together.

And running isn’t some kind of sick vice to me now. That sounds kind of crazy. Like how can exercise be bad for you? It was. Trust me. Now, running is what it used to be to me… my love and my passion and what I do when I’m happy instead of too pissed off to live.

I still have a lot to learn about control and discipline and patience and stability but the mistakes help me become better. All my pseudo-Yodas and life experience have played a significant role in my 2011 growth as a person. We all grow a little or a lot each year.

Just like I had to start slowly and stretch infinitely and relearn everything I knew about running, it was a good and necessary thing and now I’m 110% better off than I was before. Had I not destroyed myself, I wouldn’t have acquired this important and life-altering perspective. Destroying yourself sucks, but it happens and if you can rise out of the ashes, then it becomes one of the most positive things you can experience.

I destroyed a lot of myself in a ton of ways in a million aspects of my life this year. I’m finally beginning to start over and take it slow and get my shit together and be patient with myself and others and look at the long-term things instead of just the immediate ones.

The old Liz was impulsive and cracked under pressure and the reality of life. The new Liz is learning control and to chill out and do things the right way.

Luke conquers that shit becomes one of the greatest Jedi heroes of all time. I’m optimistic that I can achieve equally great things with time and practice.

Also, endorphins are damn addicting.

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 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