Sometimes I play dumb to make things easier on other people.
I’m pretty sure we all are at least a little bit narcissistic.
1. I should stop making ‘to do’ lists they remind me how many things there are.
2. For the first time in- I can’t even recall- I’m thinking I can’t wait to turn 21 so I can drink alcohol.
3. I wonder what I’m like when I’m drunk… that’d be a sight to behold, I’m sure.
1. I think I just made a discovery. The reason my characters don’t really have much of a personality is because I don’t really have much of a personality myself.
2. I am not good at host(ess)ing. I’m rusty on the rules and unsure of what exactly my obligations are and it kinda makes me feel bad.
3. It is weird I am somewhat of a pack rat, yet I favor a spartan existence. It is a strange balance to maintain.
4. Always question the sanity of those who do not talk to themselves.
5. A clown and a vampire walk into a bar the clown turns to the vampire and says, ‘Wow, your life must suck.’ (This is why I shouldn’t tell jokes)
6. Memory is a strange thing some tiny details of minuscule moments are perfectly sharp while huge swaths of time are missing and only foggy traces remain.
Dear 16 year old me,
I’m sorry. is a phrase we use a LOT. I can’t believe in the four years between you and me all the things I put you through. I’m sorry. I mean it, not in the social reflex way we usually mean it but in the genuine apollogy way. Right about now you’re a junior right? Looking forward to the Greece trip. It was amazing, I just wish we rembered more of it. You go and have a great time, make memories for me, but don’t worry, I understand why you didn’t make more. I wish I could say something to make your current situation better, but honestly I don’t know how to help you any more than I did when I was you. There’s nothing I can think of to tell you that you haven’t thought of. I guess maybe the only thing to say is ask for help or atleast accept the help offered to you. That’s it, I’m sorry. No great words of advice because I’m almost scared to say in the four years between us nothing much has changed. I’m not sure we’ve changed much at all, but I could be wrong. I mean, some things ARE different. We cuss now- that’s different. The tv shows we watch are different. We don’t really eat meat anymore. We play d&d- you’re going to love it, trust me. The people you’re going to meet….I can barely begin to think of describing them-some if them I wish we’d gotten to know better. I’m trying to think of things I’d want you to change…. I can’t think of much… Make sure you are there for your friends. Make sure they know you care for them-always. Don’t stop reading his book- you probably don’t know what I’m talking about, but when you do promise me you’ll keep reading because I really wish I knew what happened. You will regret prom go anyways it is a good story to bring up bitterly and laugh at (plus your dress is amazing). You might be disappointed in me-I know sometimes I am- and for that I am sorry. We can work on it. There is still time for us to change, after all we’re still living; I think that’s one of the better things about life and time- together they make change.
I think that’s all for now. See you in four years.
-Me, or I suppose -Us
I just called my computer a ‘she’ for the first time, and I’m kinda disappointed in myself for it. First off I’d always thought I wasn’t the type of person to assign names and genders to inanimate objects-apparently I was wrong. Second to this point I’d always just used male derrogatoty terms when it ticked me off like ‘dick’ or ‘jerk’ or ‘bastard’ or ‘asshole’, but today when I was talking to it I was talking to ‘her’ I actually stopped in the middle of talking when I realized it. Basically when I took out my computer today I discovered that it was lopsided (its probably been that way for a while) and that my one hinge is stuck-again (that’s new) and I then swore that my miracle of apoxy would be staying at home from now on for her own good. HER own good. I am disappointed in myself. The first time I call my computer a female it is in a semi-sexist gender stereotypical way and it makes me sad. I am disappointed in myself.
On how I make friends:
A few days ago I was walking and taking with this guy that I now grudgingly call a friend (but not to his face) and for some reason we were talking about friends because I am constantly mystified by the fact that he has so many, like I have no idea how he does it and he said he knew pretty much all of my friends except one or two (something I couldn’t deny) and how a mutual friend of ours had tried to explain to him that I made friends in a different way than he did. Which got me to internally trying to explain how I make friends. The product of that is below.
Steps (this is the simplified and idealized process):
1. See a person that piques my interest.
2. (Briefly) scout out that person’s behavior to confirm or refute my initial interest.
3. If interest is still there go and talk to the person.
4. If after initial conversation I am still interested in them I shall make it a point to converse with them more and more regularly making sure to cover multiple topics. This stage may go on for an extended period of time as I actually get to know the person and it may involve doing various other activities.
5. This is the stage where I start to trust them a decent amount and start to feel a deeper attachment to them than those I deem mere acquaintances.
6. This is the point where I start to push them away and kinda keep them on a holding pattern.
7. If they aren’t discouraged by this point and are relatively accepting of me and all my shit I start to think of them as friends.
8. This is the deliberation stage where I evaluate if they have earned the title of friend yet or not. If not I wait a bit and deliberate again.
9. I grant them the title friend and all that I believe goes along with that title.
Steps 3 and 8 are the hardest for me, but for different reasons.
This is oversimplified and overly clinical sounding, but it is he closest to accurate I can get by describing it. Several of the steps can overlap, happening all at once.
It isn’t acceptable to include a note in with my check that says “here you go you bastards” is it? I wish I could because I turned in what I believed to be the proper amount of rent before it was due. Four days later a note was slipped under my door telling me my rent wasn’t paid. I went into the office about noon Friday and told them i didnt understand why id gotten it. The person in charge of money matters wasn’t there to give me any sort of answer so I left my number for them to call me back. I didn’t get a call from them until about 5:40 today saying I owed them two late fees (because one was incurred this morning when they opened) or if I brought in a cashier’s check or money order before they open tomorrow they’d reduce it to one late fee. How the fuck was I supposed to get one of those after the bank had closed? I do not understand how any of this is my fault and why I should be charged. So yeah. I hate growing up and all the fuckers who seem to inhabit the grownup world.
1. A couple of nights ago after dnd I was out with several of the people and one of them noted i was lesss….. than usual and he asked if weekend me was the real me, I kinda thought that was a stupid thing to ask so I just told him I’m always the real me. How could I not be?
2. It was decided (since none of them actually know where I live) that I blink in and out of planar existence and just occasionally and randomly appear. I actually like this version of reality and I’m content to let it stand.
3. I hate when guys I’m pretty sure aren’t sexist start saying things that are highly sexist. It makes me feel uncomfortable because I get really mad about the things they are saying, but then I convince myself that they are doing it to provoke some sort of response from me so I can’t really loose my anger on them because I’m pretty sure they’re joking, but then I have the momentary flash if what if they aren’t joking I can’t not correct them and GAH!! It is awful.
4. I tend to care more than I like to outwardly show. I like the idea of playing my cards close to my chest and never letting anyone see the hand I’m holding, but sometimes my poker face falters and I slip up bleeding my hand for others to see. Interesting term that- bleeding.
5. I have some sort of romantic notion about unsent letters. No idea why. I just like the idea of them. Maybe its the way you can be completely candid with somebody and not fear the backlash. You can tell them things they’ll never know and maybe that’s where the romanticism lies.
I promise to be just as uncaring and sarcastic as always because it is good to have people who don’t change in a world as crazy as this.