grow up already


the major problem
August 28, 2007, 12:17 pm
Filed under: Uncategorized

with not having anything to do (school, hobbies, etc.) is your brain is completely wasted on thoughts of yourself and your immediate world. I mean we all gotta think, unfortunately. That shit does not shut up ever. But if you’re not careful you’ll find that those endless thoughts are revolving around a singular subject- you. Me.

This is why hobbies are so fucking important. The last time I did something hobby-esque was start building a bike at the Bike Kitchen. It was great, it made Wednesday nights something legit instead that void in the middle of the week where nothing seems to exist except a meal and recorded episodes of Roseanne.

I remember this one evening I was working on the brake. For a full hour, the entire world consisted of nothing but trying to wedge a brake lever onto my drops. It was the best brake lever there. (Oh did I mention I’m building a Frankenbike consisting of nothing but whatever can be found in the Kitchen’s bins?) No other lever would substitute. We ran through every possible way to get that thing on there, up to and including using folded up pieces of paper to prop up the screw. After awhile it became clear that it would not work but now the task had taken on a life of it’s own. Fuck, I didn’t even want that lever anymore, but I did want it to fit more than anything.

You ever notice when that happens? You’ve been working on something and after awhile the intended result becomes way less important than just solving the problem. That’s probably how scientists will cure cancer, and they’ll be at the podium receiving their Nobel Prize and they’ll be like, “Oh yeah, cancer. I’ve just been trying to get the synthesized RNA D-1b to fuse with the D-2b for like, 12 goddamn years.”

A luxury is to be able to do something that engaging on a regular basis. Otherwise you’ll become one of those people who relates everything to themselves and takes everything personally and can’t be bothered to even talk about the world-at-large. I don’t blame them necessarily, and I know I get like that from time to time. It’s not our faults our brains don’t ever shut the fuck up, and without some serious outside stimulation they’ll naturally think about themselves.

Go do something! I heard it’s a nice day outside. Go do something where you get so tired all you can think about is your body, willing it not to give out. Go do something where your superior intellect must take a backseat and work to understand someone else’s far more superior intellect. Go do something that will give birth to something for you or someone else to enjoy. Have fun!

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18 weeks
August 20, 2007, 12:49 am
Filed under: alcohol, Uncategorized

Jesus christ. I’ve only been sober for 18 weeks. Feels like forever. I’m already looking at old pictures of me with a drink in my hand and going, “Oh I drank then?” Ok but then I forget about the rest of life. Shit.

I’ve been working on the removal of expectations from my life. Something that causes people to drink is the disappointment of an unmet expectation. As life is nothing but a series of disappointments, you can either escape them through drinking or figure out something else. Because like I mentioned below, it fucking sucks to not ever get a break from whatever it is that bothers you. I don’t get to check out for the night anymore. The only other way is to remove expectations. That cuts down on a lot of shit, and a nice way to put it is “living life on life’s terms.”

I totally used to think that I needed expectations to obtain any measurable amount of success or decent behavior out of others. Like if I didn’t expect myself to succeed in certain endeavors, I’d end up sitting around watching television courtroom shows for the rest of my life. Or if I didn’t expect someone to treat me well,when they didn’t I’d be so fucking complacent and expectation-less I’d just accept it.

And the fact of the matter is, what has the endless stream of pressure on myself ever gotten me? I’m either not doing what I think I’m supposed to and feeling like a piece of shit or I’m doing it and not getting much out of it because all I’m really doing is fulfilling an expectation. It’s not special anymore. Even something that I find inherently “special,” like writing, is a bunch of crap when I feel like it’s supposed to amount to the expectation that I’ll be a super-famous writer. It’s not cool to feel so godamned grandiose, especially when you know you’re being grandiose. Each word is everything I’ve ever expected to get out of it or it’s absolute bullshit. This will kill the desire to do it at all.

And then there are the stupid, embarrassing expectations I have about life. I really, really hate to put this into words but for years I’ve actually expected to meet someone at a fucking bar. Oh god it’s making me cringe. So every time I go to a bar and don’t meet someone I feel vaguely disappointed. Which duh, is every fucking time I go to a bar except when I met Trevor, who became that Sex And The City-style urban myth of a serious relationship with someone you met in a bar.

I used to be way too busy getting drunk to notice if I was meeting anyone. It was at once a subterfuge of my own lame expectations and a distraction from the fact that they weren’t being met. I finally realized that it’s my own imagined fantasy of what I hope happens when I go out that sucks, not that I can’t drink it away. So I removed all expectations from all places. All I can really expect is that I’ll be someplace that isn’t my house. Anything beyond that is a surprise.

Last week I went out with Jenn and instead of hoping I’d see certain people, or that cute dudes would talk to me, or hoping to see cute dudes at all, I just shut the fuck up and released all of those thoughts into the atmosphere (well not really, I actually just told myself to shut the fuck up). That night I wasn’t all “Oh boo hoo I can’t drink to hide the fact that nothing is happening.” Because I didn’t expect anything to happen. And what the fuck! It totally works. I had fun. I did the same thing the next night, which was even more of a high-hopes situation because I have a little crush on someone. Crushes fun and all but people forget to mention they’re also like playing Russian Roulette with disappointment for a bullet. But not this time! I didn’t care because I was just out having fun with my best friend. When he materialized later it was just icing on the good times cake. I can’t tell you how many times it’s been the opposite and I’m either in a constant state of letdown all night or best case scenario: I’d get to see that person and instead of being all happy, I’d be like “Right, there you are” and move onto the next thing: now he isn’t talking to me enough, we aren’t making out, I’m not having 10,000 of his babies, whatever. I might as well walk around super bummed that I’m not winning the lottery. Both are equally valid disappointments.



This pink cloud
August 14, 2007, 2:58 pm
Filed under: alcohol, quarter life crisis

is starting to wear off. Life is once again boring, hard and kind of lonely. I have been dreaming about drinking. I’ve been having long conversations in my head about when it might be ok to drink again (on vacation? In five years?).

I’ve been bored.

Alcohol is one of life’s greatest distractions. It shields inadequacies about self and situation. Without it, certain things are so fucking obvious: I am not a writer, I go days without the pressure of skin against skin, I do not have any money. And I have absolutely nothing to blame these things on. Without it, it’s obvious we are simply standing around but now nothing tricks me into wanting to stay.

I know there’s more to giving something up than this. I feel like I traded in self-destruction for…well, nothing. Something for nothing.



guess i’ll just say this once
August 5, 2007, 9:17 pm
Filed under: Uncategorized

hopefully only once, because this way of thinking is horrible. a shitload of people in my family have died of cancer. mainly skin cancer that metastasized. great grandparents, great aunts and uncles, both grandmas, my grandpa has terminal melanoma, and now my dad has cancer. at first i was relieved to hear he “only” has basal cell carcinoma. but both of us just found out that my grandma, who basically had cancer everywhere when she died, started out with basal cell. i went from feeling like it was no big deal to thinking, “my dad has cancer.”

i feel really bad for thinking so negatively and even worse for feeling sorry for myself when my dad and grandpa are sick and don’t need anybody feeling like that. but i feel cursed. doomed. there. i said it.

now i’ll try to focus on thinking and acting more positive- for the living. and wearing sunscreen every fucking day (besides my face), continuing veganism (and people wonder how i can do it- well, i have the worst cancer-causing genes ever and i fucking smoke), quitting smoking, and stopping this bullshit, selfish, panic-inducing, not-helping-anyone, feeling-sorry-for-myself fatalistic thinking about cancer.