Brownies and Comfort Zones

I find tonight that for the first time in many years I'm looking forward to my birthday. This makes me feel odd, for it's out of my comfort zone. Last night I realized I was happy for the first time in a while. I mean more than content, or comfortable, or having fun, or whatever puts me in a good mood. But emotionally fulfilled, without the need to burn off something. At peace.

Some of that perpetuated itself into today, too.

My paper(s) are done and submitted. I've got phone calls to make tomorrow. Forgot today. Oops.

Tomorrow will be a busy day. But hopefully the strap-up I've got scheduled for the afternoon will go smoothly. Can't remember if the plan was for bands or what. Dr. Aoba won't even realize if I change it, though. The real question is whether to band the molars or not. I guess we'll see how much separation I can get while I'm direct bonding.

I'm looking forward to the show tomorrow. Plus I'm glad I'll have a bunch of friends there. Usually, getting people to come out is tough. I almost said "like pulling teeth," but that's both enjoyable and not that difficult. Almost zen-like, in some cases.

"Zen and the Art of Continuous Sutures"

I guess it's the whole birthday thing. Whatever, at least they're up for it, and for celebrating with me. Last year I forgot it was my birthday until Marissa asked how old I was.

Shit, I need to get in touch with her.

Went to John Stoner's place at the Hub and helped with industrial-scale brownie making. I think I was the youngest one there by a good 7-8 years, at least. But the food was good, people were friendly, and I cemented some acquaintances I've made on past rides. Plus John's got a chair in his house made of old bike wheels and inner tubes. And now I'm looking forward to this Friday's ride more and more.

I wanted to relate the Liv story I alluded to the other day, but that must wait, for the shower and bed are hankering for me yet again. Plus I want to groove to the Afterbeat CD I've been getting into my head.

Best line on the MOTO album: "The moon in the sky kicks the ass of the stars."

Touched

Annoyance: people using "gay" as a pejorative.

Actually, this is more than an annoyance. It pisses me the fuck off. On a tangentially related note, Matt was giving me shit today for commenting on his lack of universal precautions. He was seeing an HIV patient, which apparently necessitated a whole shitload more personal protective gear than usual. For him, anyway. Then John acted like the curing light was gonna give him AIDS if he didn't disinfect under the barrier like no tomorrow.

I told them that treating HIV patients differently without reason just perpetuates the stigma associated with it, which is part of why HIV is considered a disability. I sometimes wonder how people manage to get through life if they can't even see the indirect ramifications of their actions. It also makes me feel surprised and a little awed that the world isn't even more fucked up.

Joybringer: Dani sent me a birthday package.

I haven't talked to her since I was in AZ almost three months ago, and it was the last thing I expected, but tonight I get home to a nice card, cookies, and LiveWrong socks. This - and Laura's package, too - make me feel really happy. People I didn't really expect presents from. It just makes me happy to know that maybe I'm not alone as I feel sometimes.

I'm reminded of when I was 16 and getting to be friends with Liv, but that's a story for another day, since I really need to shower and sleep...

I want a pony!

I finally get a chance to write something here. It seems like every time I'd want to, myspace would be fucked up.

Anyway, I've been up to a lot in the whatever amount of time it's been since I last wrote here. Last week Kate and I went to the Printer's Ball, and I picked up a fair amount of literary swag; she and I ended up talking 'til almost three in the morning after the cops kicked us out of Wicker Park. Friday I hit the Pilsen Circular Mass ride, and then out to the Effigies at Double Door.

John and Rebecca passed me on Friday during the Mass, and as they said hi, Carl, the guy riding next to me, yelled, "I want a pony!" He'd been yelling it all night, but that was the most appropriate time yet, I swear.

Saturday I was zonked. Between sleeping in and naps, I didn't get to school until 3pm, and left around 6:30 or so to make it to Derek and Anohki's for dinner. Which was fabulous. I should've hung out there longer rather than make it to Rhiannon's party - a bunch of trixies, and the most profound conversation was about the Left Behind series, which are like the John Grisham novels of Christian fundamentalists.

Yesterday I took it easy and got some work done. Not a lot, since I'm easily distracted by liminal shit. But some.

I have a small plan to get my life back in gear - well, it's not really that far out of gear, but still... Once my paper is done, spend at least 15 minutes a night cleaning up. Right now it's a mess, but once the dishes and CDs are cleaned up, this brilliant plan should allow me to keep my shit together pretty well.

Last night was so nice out, I decided to sit on the stoop and read a bit (probably one more week and I'll be through the Harrington series for the third or fourth time), and Laura came home and talked with me for a bit. Hopefully she and I can become better friends before she moves next month.

It occurred to me the other day that I make a ton of plans to go out and do stuff, and I've made new acquaintances/friends the last few weeks. I need to call Jay and see if she's up for coming out to see Vic Ruggiero on Wednesday. And I'm gonna try and make it out to Night Cap on Friday to meet Shelly and see her boyfriend's band. But the thing is, I don't feel like going out. I want to sit and do nothing. Just vegetate. But I know I need to get out and do things, so I do despite that. It's similar to last spring when I was so depressed and made myself get out so much it was overwhelming.

On a positive note, I'm not drinking at home alone anymore. Now I need to have people over so I can drink what I have left with them.

Hmmm.

...the fuck?

Shit. Tonight is a waste. A fun waste, but a waste.

After school, went to Moretti's with a bunch of classmates. Despite my desire to not drink so much beer anymore (which Ameerah called me on after, oh, six or seven beers) I still had way too much. And a shitload of free wings. Somehow Ben and I won our beanbag toss.

I'm still dizzy.

So, so much for getting some work done tonight. This weekend is going to kill me with fun. Dammit.

Tomorrow I need to get some anthro papers from the library for my midterm and get my final under control. Then the Lifetime/Loved Ones show. Sunday it's Sylvana's baby shower and then the Goddamn Doo Wop Band show. Maybe somewhere in between there I'll get my shit done.

Right now I need to rest. I've been tired all day, but I felt like putting all this out there. Plus I rationalized it by maybe sobering up a bit before I rode home.

I don't think that happened. I feel toasted. Regardless, soon I will head home and probably spend my night reading a novel I've read several times previously and then pass out exhausted.

My life is pathetic. It's been school and self-neglect since John died. I just really don't care about anything else enough to make an effort, even when I know I should. It would probably be good for me to pursue a friendship with Laura Brady and Katie Brokaw, but I can't make myself care enough to go out of my way for it.

Euro-ska

I just heard an awesome song by the Braces. The overwhelming source of its awesomeness is its title and chorus:

"Skanking In My Lonely Room"

In other news, I still feel like shit, like I'm about two steps away from being in tears but never there.

Good morning, heartache.

John's funeral was Friday. Sad as hell. Just the same, it didn't hit me until after I got back to Chicago. Friday and Saturday I was detached, viewing things clinically and more worried about my family. My aunt kept saying she was going to be alone until she dies. Yesterday felt like shit. I couldn't concentrate, I just wanted to eat, sleep, and be lazy. It took me a good 6 hours to do 2 hours of work, and I kept having to take naps. What the fuck? To top it off, I went to the Note to see the Copyrights play, and they weren't there. The other three bands were, though, although they weren't that great.

Saturday night I was at least back in town soon enough to go the Monkey/Deal's Gone Bad show, and that was very welcome. My back is still all sore from dancing. Met up with Ryan too, which was cool, and Chuck Wren hooked me up with 10-12 CDs for $35.

I started selectively rereading the Honor Harrington novels last week. I started actually a few hours before I found out about John's death, but now I feel more justified in spending the time. My apartment is shit right now, but I really don't give a fuck about it. Once I get my paper and lit review done I might. I don't know right now.

Same deal with girls at the moment. I don't need the distraction. I'm trying to eat and drink less. I'm feeling a bit hyperbeerhotic, and I know I've become a little too quick to reach for the drink. I found out Thursday that while you can buy alcohol on airplanes, you can't drink your own.

Right now I just want to eat, sleep, and waste my time. I've pretty much given up trying to get together with friends since it's not worth the letdown when they're busy. I'd rather be alone than deal with that. Shana did tell me to call if I needed to get out, though.

Empty and Pejorative

The big things on my mind right now:

Drove to MN for the weekend, ate lots of food, sat on my uncle's farm and watched green to the horizon, had to put up with their pedantic neo-Calvinist theologic bullshit.

Saw Phil in Minneapolis, went to some nice bars and had some nice conversation over some nice beers.

My cousin John died Monday, so I head to Jersey tomorrow for the funeral.

And I get here for my 7:30am lecture to find it's not on today.

My bicycle, front stoop, and Jim Withington

Several things today: cool, beautiful girls I can't date because of compatibility or availability issues; a nap in a dental chair, sorely needed and missed; pussing out on my work to go home "early"; and cheap fun.

I get home at 8pm, decide to sit on the stoop and read a bit. I finish the short story I was in the middle of, think of what I can do tonight. I should clean the house, sleep, read something educational. I want to do something free. How the hell did I have fun as a kid? I didn't have any money then...so it hits me: bike ride! I've been riding all over for transport whenever possible - why not for fun? Kids are fucking geniuses.

Just goes to show that the more you learn, the less you know.

So I head downtown, then down to Roosevelt and up the lakefront to Division, ride around Goose Island a few minutes, then head up to Delilah's so I have *some* destination. $3 and 2 Americans later I'm upstairs and who do I meet? Jim Fucking Withington. The kid doesn't even live in Chicago anymore and I meet him on a random trip to D's. It was nice to have someone to sit with, though.

I head home and end up sitting on my stoop again for half an hour listening to music. I feel like I have lots of deep thoughts, but it's really just my melancholia and anti-social isolationist tendencies returning. It really is a nice neighborhood outside my house; it's too bad my friends never come here or I never do anything outside here, for that matter. No wonder I feel like I have no home.

I love my bicycle for pulling me away from it all. I've found so many cool places to hang out and do nothing but no one can ever come with me for it.

Sublimation

Why do the walls of my freezer look like they're sublimating immediately after opening it?

I have one beer left and I really shouldn't drink it tonight.

Wasted Days

So after Friday's fun-filled exhausting night in which I met a ton of new people and connected with about zero of them - let's hear it for high school reunions! - I haul my ass up north 15 miles to get my car checked out at the same place that worked on it a month ago, then meet my parents to look at the house they're thinking of buying. Needless to say this totally exhausts me and I go home and sleep til 2:30. I'm not used to waking up in the middle of the afternoon; it was weird being at school at 4:30 when everyone had left. I don't think I accomplished too much either. Ah well, it fueled my melancholy and helped justify my moderate self-dislike. Regardless, my ass was zonked at the radio last night.

That's the preface to the important part:

I woke up this morning after a full night's sleep and depressing dreams to a light drizzle and cool breeze outside, some of it coming right in my window onto my face. For some reason I could identify with the rain on my face and didn't feel so alone.

But my apathy returned and I've really not accomplished anything all day. A nap, some schoolwork, but nothing of importance, it feels like. Not even fun. The beautiful gray day wasn't experienced much at all.