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So we spent the night watching El Boyo jazz hands his way through being a member of Hitler’s army, oh, and also reacting emphatically to what people around him were saying. If there were an Oscar (oh, I’m sorry a TONY) for emphatic facial reactions, I would definitely say he won it.

I am still trying to figure out exactly how… okay it is for me discuss El Boyo on this blog. So bear with me while the dust settles and I drill this hole right into solid plaster and try to hang a 59 pound painting from it. When things crash down, ignore the screaming – it’s probably just a broken toe or something.

Then we had entirely too many French Fries, and I ate them ALL. And then they got cold, and I lost interest in food, and then I lost interest in everything and was grumpy for awhile, and then I watched King of the Hill and was EMPHATICALLY grumpy. With facial expressions! And I think *I* could have won some sort of award for my emphatic grumpiness, the aftereffects I’m still sort of trying to puzzle through this morning.

I feel like I’m back in ‘Nam. With the land mines and the fox holes and the what not.

Today we go to look at another townhouse. I have my heart set on one we’ve already seen, but this is cheaper and closer to town, and I know we have to comparison shop…but…FOREST! Forest that smells like the Sierra Nevada! Forest that reminds me of home and summers on the American River! A Deck! A closet into which I can fit both a chair AND my guitar and be very emo for HOURS if I choose to. And write songs! That are emphatic! And grumpy! And reactionary! A closet in which I can fling myself about and get streaks of mascara on the walls and bemoan the emo sadness of my life and be completely non-conformist – just like every other highschool student who listens to The Cure. I can eat chocolate in my closet!

But I must not get too attached to my closet. I must hold myself back. And I must go watch an Adam Brody movie instead of writing a 22 page paper which is due Tuesday – the paper, not the Adam Brody movie. And I will see it DESPITE the horrible reviews it is getting, because it is Adam Brody! And he is very ADAMY in his BRODYISHNESS. And then I will ogle rugs and lamps at Urban Outfitters which I cannot afford! And maybe even get more paint samples! But there will be no cleaning of my room today! Why? BECAUSE I AM GRUMPY! AND REACTIONARY! AND DISINTEGRATION WAS THE BEST ALBUM EVER!!

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Before you reach to pick out a speck in your brother’s eye, first clear the plank from your own. I know that this is true, and I’m trying so hard to do it. But as usual, when it comes to how I SHOULD react and how I do…your friendly neighborhood crazy girl is getting it all messed up again.

It hurts to not know what to say here, because I do not want to cross the line into talking about people behind their backs when it’s something serious. I know I need to find a way…a better way to broach this subject, but I just can’t figure it out. I think I’ve tried talking, joking, even outright yelling. I don’t want to hurt a friend, but I don’t think I should have to give up who I am, either. I hope I would never ask something like that from someone I cared about.

I hate it when I weigh my options and come up with nothing.

I have this thing about new people. Okay, I have this thing about people, period. Maybe some of you will understand what I mean. I think my self-esteem is pretty high up there. I mean, of course I slip into periods where I think I’m stupid or ugly or fat, like every good woman has been socialized to do, but overall, when I look in the mirror, I don’t recoil in horror. I don’t wear shirts that hang down to my knees just because I have a little belly, because I honestly think my body is beautiful. I think when it comes to I’m okay, you’re okay…well, I’m okay.

But then there’s this great rejection thing I have going, where I am just so sure when I encounter someone new in my life that I am going to make them hate me. This is where the creepy crawly ugly bad self esteem part comes out. I become ao absolutely sure that I am driving everyone away, that I will drive everyone away, that I become an unbearable freak and…drive people away. I’m an “only the strong survive” sort of person, I suppose.

This has got to stop. Because honestly, I’m sick of my worry and tension and all of those symptoms of that “everyone hates me” disease surfacing, when underneath it all, I’m screaming at myself to shut the fuck up already, y’know?

BTW, I would like to publicly apologize for calling Chris a cock-sucking motherfucker. As any of you know me know, I don’t like either of those words anyway, and it was mean of me, but I really did have the best intentions. So, Chris, I apologize from the bottom of my heart. :)

Now, does anyone have any solutions for how to not make a total ass of yourself, you know, all the time? Cause I could really use the help.

Today we looked at an apartment, which I thought was amazing because it has a master bedroom and a walk-in closet in which I can put a chair. For those of you who know of my closet moments, this is significant.

[Edit. If you missed it, you’re too late]

xxoo

Was the subject of one of my emails today.

In other news, I’m up early and actually at school, with every intention of going to both classes today. I’m trying to get my SURF application written statement completed by 11:30, so that I can go harrass the graduate student who has now agreed to attach himself to it. Stupid, stupid graduate student.

And then there’s the ten page paper which as of now has no topic, no hypothesis, no… well, you get the picture. The picture is that it doesn’t exist in thought or in form. And my brain is in a sad state of affairs.

But my mother wants to start blogging! How fabulous is that?! Spring break, amidst all the thesifying, will be filled with setting up a place for her to write her wonderful, squishy, snuggly brains out. That’s my mom. Wonderful and squishy and snuggly. I wish she were here to take care of me right now, as I sit on the eighth floor of Davis library, fighting off four waves of feminism nausea and slamming my head into a wall.

Won’t it be fun to read my mom’s blog? I promise you’ll like her. She’s darling, and she dresses just like an elementary school teacher. Down to the apple pins on her long dresses and everything. She’s Adorable!Mom. That’s her action super hero name. I think that should be her blog title as well. ADORABLE!MOM! Faster than a speeding bullet! Grading more quick math than a steaming locomotive!

Enough. Must work.

Currently Reading

Eve Ensler, Insecure At Last

Brettell and Sargent, eds. Gender in Cross-Cultural Perspective

Quoth the Raven:

"Girls aren't beautiful, they're pretty. Beautiful is too heavy a word to assign to a girl. Women are beautiful because their faces show that they know, that they have lost something and picked up something else."

-Henry Rollins
October 2017
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