Another

It’s summer again and again and again summer tends to bring out the worst/best in me people. I—errr I mean people, sure people…tend to drink a lil more (uuuh hello; cook outs, bars with outdoor areas, beach trips, festivals, concerts, picnics, weekends, Thursdays), dress a little sluttier (tank tops n’ shorty shorts). While in general there is nothing wrong with any of these things when taken to X-treme things can get a little, collar-pullingly awkward; especially meeting new people. It can be as what only can be described as a Jekyll and Hyde situation or at worse a Ke$ha situation. Something no body enjoys but everyone will remember…because it was just…YUCK!

Summer is the time for a lot of things. It’s a virtual hotbed of change and discomfort, soothed and aggravated by those characteristic mentioned above. If your lucky you find a balance and meet someone decent, or, you know, not.

Summer is a time for heated ambition that should be cooled, unless you want to make a jackass of yourself with how much you’ve invested yourself in a possibility. And then when that possibility that you talked your fool ass self into thinking was in inevitability blows up in your face. Because no matter how much you think you deserve something, or how much you think you would be the perfect candidate for the job, life has a way of oh saying “uuuhhhh I think you’ve confused your life with a special episode of Saved by the Bell.”

So my attempt at ambition was shot down like so many old yellers. I got put the fuck down. So I’m going to wail and rage and bloody my knuckles, tear at my hair, questioning once again the choices I’ve made. And then I’ll go home and drink and eat ice scream. Because why not, I enjoy being a stereotype.

Because what else is there when something doesn’t go your way and you have no control over it. When people were an your side and a technicality keeps you from what you want. When you’ve spent some much of your life hearing no no no that for once the idea of yes seemed so appealing that you trick yourself into saying yes too.

GOD

I sound like an emo poet from the Midwest.

No substance only whining. I’m like the McDonalds of blogs.



The McChicken of posts.

A plot of land

After my anXXXiety (<-sexy!) fit yesterday, I had a well rested night last night. OR SO I THOUGHT. I found my sleep briefly disturbed by a dream that I haven't had in a while.

I found myself back in the neighborhood I grew up in, but everything was slightly twisted sideways/inside out. It was like when you revisit a place that you knew really well but like half the buildings had been taken down and new ones had been erected (<-heh) that didn't seem to quite belong.

I was trying to figure out what exactly had happened to my picturesque nightmare of a home town, when I was being chased. Like prior times I've had this dreams I can never see the face of my pursuer. There is always a shadow or a fog that seems to cover his face. It's really fucking scary. So there I was, dream me running for my life, again.

When I reached that moment of dream realization (dreamization?) where I'm like oh a'duh you dreamin' stupid. Unlike the cool cool coolio dream manipulating things that you can do, like fly n' things, I couldn't do any of that shit.
All I could do is wonder why I couldn't wake myself up. I did manage to wake up once I was safely sheltered in my dream best friends dream house not to be confused with the horror show that is Barbies Dreamhouse of broken dreams and bloody corpses. I climbed through my dream friends attic window, which he doesn't have in real life, and I was safe.

Well safe for the moment since I knew that he would find me. It's been, what? Like 3-4 years since I've had this dream, so maybe he'll find me again, like nightmares on phlegmstreet, spo0o0o0ky! So I woke up pissed because I wasn't able to, you know kick some dream ass.

And that was that. And this is this:

M – This. This is why not no one likes you. I don’t like you, L can’t stand you, G only tolerates you because he’s known you the longest. It’s because you are an asshole. Not one of those rakish assholes, nope. Just an asshole.

C – Because I don’t spout platitudes? Because I know that things might not end up O.K. and choose not to delude myself into thinking that they will?

M – You think that you’re doing everyone such a great service.

C – Aren’t I?

M – You have no filter, you have no regard for anyone’s feelings, anyone's.

G has been sitting, drinking his beer. Continues to watch.

M – You just say thing that are incredibly…ugh…stupid-

C – Why? Why is it stupid? I don’t like to sugar coat things because what’s the point? Isn’t the truth what everyone wants to hear? No. Obviously, not. People want to feel special, unique, like they can conquer anything. Not true. The truth isn’t beautiful; it’s dirty and hard and will sit on your chest torturing you. Immovable.

M – Listen Cassandra, you aren’t the harbinger of truth. You are just a guy that says things to bring attention to himself because he thinks his pop psychology will somehow validate his awfulness.

Each time the

Is it oxymoronic, or simply moronic to be an anxious Midwesterner?

Answer?
Both.

Coming from the land of wide open spaces, field and flat lands and so on, it was perfect breeding ground to be relaxed and confident, knowing your places in the wide open expanse.

Wrong, the agoraphobes yell, their voices muffled from with the confines of their homes.

My anxiety often knows no bounds like those waves of grain or whatever we had, (soy I think) or grammatical rules. To completely contradict myself, I guess going back to my wide open spaces opening (ßDixie Chicks song, sue me; I grew up in OHIO), I do tend to find some relief when I’m in those locations.

Still, as an anxious Midwesterner I was never able to find solidarity with my brood (is that even the right word? Sure why not) in Ohio. Thank goodness I was able to find comfort and understanding with my big city brethren. The tall buildings, narrow streets, mass of people and constant pace, lends itself perfectly to those riddled or at least vaguely annoyed by anxiety.

Instead of therapy, I have this. ….? Better then nothing?

At least I have the cool, not cold; nothing so hair-pullingly dramatic, comfort that these bouts of anxiousnessness come few and far between and are not so crippling that I have to lock myself in the bathroom in order to regain my composer, this isn’t college any more folks!

UGH…---^^^******

Nothing ca

Shocking as I think this is I HAVEN’T BEEN RUNNING!

Crazy, I know.

With today’s severe lack of mindless drivel here I am adding my own lifeless listless something elseless contribution. This isn’t a flash in the pan but a thud thwunk in an iron skillet ready to be served in your local Denny’s.

G – So I’ve really decided to go for it. Commit. No more half-assing it. No one can stop me.

M – Yes, finally.

C – Hooray

M – Why do you have to be such a dick? Actually, why? This is good news.

C exits

M – DICK

G – He’s not a dick

M – uh yes. Yes, he is

G – He’s been going through this with me since forever. It’s not like he’s not supportive. He’s just…skeptical.

M – Who isn’t. Not like that I mean, you can be hopeful too. That this horrible thing will be over.

C enters with two beers tosses one to G

C – And now you’ll be fine! It’s not like this keeps happening because you want it to keep happening. If that were the case, we, in good conscious, would have locked you up tossed away the key and visited you every other Christmas. So don’t pull that shit that it’s somehow your fault that you haven’t been doing better; doing better from something you and your therapists and your doctors and your medications haven’t been able to handle for the past 13 or so odd years. It’s great that you’re re-committing but I just want you to know that no one here thinks that you’ve ever not been committed.

pause

And if anyone does think that they are a bitch named M

oh baby!

So apparently I only write in this thing-a-ma-jing either the day of or the day after a run! I’m usually at work! Don’t tell the boss (who’s the boss?)

Whatever!

Patterns! Nature finds away!

Welcome to

*pause*pause*pause*

JURASSIC MCCARREN PARK

I don’t even know anymore? !

SO I had a capital “G” Great weekend that only involved slight damage to my body.

Friday rolled around and a nurse friend of mine’s boifrienz had a big gay ole birfday partay.

And let me tell you something, it was…something!

Well let’s just put it all out there. I first had a few drinkz with my friend and his boyfriend and then I had a few drinks at the bday party and THEN I found myself on the train going home.

So unless I entered into a Lynchian fugue state, which is something I’ve not entirely dismissed. For all I know, I could completely changed my face and started a whole new life that I (first person I) has no idea!

Which is basically kind of what happened when you drink, right? You talk to people you normally would just look on from a distance, creepily admiring his nice beard.

Or d-d-d-dancing like you limbs were made only to move to the beat! Or even slurring out some truth bombs; I love you, you smell, what’s your name again nvm I could care less! Where was I? Oh yes, I DIDN’T enter a fugue state (..?) I DID just end up home it was….disturbing.

N E way that happened! Maybe.

On Saturday OMGEEZ rolled into town! OOOOOOOOOOOoooooooooooooooooooooooo child it was nice.

We went to Pete’s Candy Shop, andletmetellyou what, they do NOT serve candy there.

Iiiif youKnowWhatImean

They serve alcohol.

But they also served conversation! We talked about the heat mostly. It was nice and hot and sticky my favorite types of weather. Maybe it’s genetics or some kinda of cultural memory, but give me Hot and Humid over Dry and Hot any mofo day.

So will my Caucasian pallies were steaming I was enjoying a cool beer, wearing my tank top and shorts. Oh, well I guess dressing like a S L U T doesn’t hurt either!

OMGeez was awesome and we talked about oh you know; our ultimate arrival to fame and (mis)fortune, our star studded life in the fringes of society.

Laters, we went to a dance party at some clurb and it was a soul, funk, Motown themed night. And we twisted, mash-potatoed, shucked, jived until we could see straight.

That kind of music/dancing best suits the heat. You can slow it down or speed it up and it feels good sweating to the music or feeling someone else body against your.

I ended up entering the dance competish and I’m not trying to say that I won it buuuuut

I didn’t win it.

I did twist my “A” off and got in the finals ya’ll.

So that’s an accomplishment?

I did have some boy say “You are definitely are going to win”

And then my heart melted and I asked him out on a date and he said, “Yes! Yes of course! I dreamed that you would ask! Once I saw you dancing I knew that you should be mine!”

Of course

I didn’t say anything to him I just nodded and did…oh thanks gesture and went on my way.

So I got to dance and it was nice to move and sweat and be hot.

Then I walked home tired but happy.

Then on Sunday I had some BURRRRRRRRRRITOS with Aubz, LK and V.smith. It was good. We also bought some make up.

And generally acted like precocious 13 year olds. All a titter, but with more cursing and A LOT more sexually explicit.

Like A LOT.

to the future with

Yesterday I went running! Runnin runnin' ru-runnin' running

That's what my heart sounds like when I start running; confidant, then dulls to a murmur, then kind of just sputters ft ft ft ft ptp...

But! I did run more and with a better pace than I thought I would!
So that was something! A very little something but something none the less.
I did almost reach that point of running when you hit your stride and it feels like you can just keep going.
It was nice.
I stopped thinking about things; like hey there's a hot guy without his shirt on, or hey there is another hot guy without his shirt on playing futbol (<----fuck soccer; it's futbol mothafuckaz) wow he has a defined body, or that guy running in front of me has a nice little b-b-bounce to his s-s-step, or look at the guy with a workout outfit of AMERICAN APPAREL (soooooomeone's bougie), or is that a the red ranger or is it just a really sunburned ginger without his shirt on? (it was the latter)

So, I think it goes without saying this was kinda a horny run that I had going on...

But then I almost hit my moment, my perfect running moment, that I used to be able to obtain, and all I was thinking about was my breathing and the wind and my strides and how my hands are positioned and sure I can run one more lap! what's one more lap? So I ran that one more lap and stopped. Because, I probably woulda felt not great the next day if I pushed my body further than what it's capable of doing (for now).

So I did my stretchinz' and PUSH UPS the walked on home.

Then I ate a burger, fries and some coleslaw with like 3beerz...





Glad I went on that run!

hear her holler

So it doesn't matter what I wrote or will write or have written (I KNOW TENSES!), all that matters is that I'm here in the fucking city now and I have to do the best I can with whatever stupidy the good lord bestowed upon me.

It'll be just like SEX IN TEH CITAY.

except not at all because it won't be awful.


Simply awful.


Well at least not awful in the way the series and first movie and undoubtedly the second movie are.
When did this turn into a Sex n' da City post. Damn you Michael Patrick King damn you to hell.


God, that movie looks BAD

dirt is all the same

Well isn't this something.

One year ago today I was boarding a plane and making my move to NEW YORK CITY.

Nu Yark Cheety

I've done a lot of things since I've moved here? I've gotten myself a j-o-b that I l-i-k-e.

Which is something that I can say is a big improvement from where I was last year in Cheekahgo. Maybe that is to say, I wasn't trying hard enough to find a job that I liked? I don't know, maybe I was too pseudo focused on other stuff. On things that I'm not sure that I was completely cut out for in the first place.

HEAVY

But now I'm here, I'm tip-typin' away on this little nothing of a nothing while the wind outside is blowing. Feeling a little sunburned from yesterday when I went to the beach.

Other new things... I have new glasses! That sit a'top my face like a sign that says "nerds say hello!" or something. <----That made no sense.



bllpppssssssssssh, what other things? I've had a reunion and subsequent estrangement from my sister here in Q-q-queens. So that was some stuff. It was nice to see her while I had the chance. But things change and you have to take it.

I've met plenty of new people, mostly passing acquaintance, Which I guess is a little different from the Windy City. I was able to go out and just met people, strangers really and, while I wasn't great friends with them, I would be to say; go out with them on Saturday or Friday. I guess I'm still trying to get used to the type of people this city attracts. People that aren't necessarily mean but that have a harder edge to them, forever searching for something; discarding this for that or another thing,

So I'm sure I'll find my own particular footing. Maybe in a year! Who knows! I don't!

Maybe I won't have to worry about it at all! What with the Oil Spills, War, sinkholes, I'm pretty sure we're going to see the horsemen prancing across the sky like the lil' queers that they are.

But if not, well...

I guess things will keep on clip-clopping.