![[icon]](http://l-userpic.livejournal.com/26218857/5465060) |
a well worn story
|
| okay. i don't really hate you anymore. although i still want some of the things you have, i am grateful, every day, that i don't have a lot of them.
things are looking up.
for now. forever?
let's hope so. | comments: 2 comments or Leave a comment   |
| i went to a poetry reading the other night.
it was deja vu: i was brought back to all those nights i spent between the ages of 15 to 25 in bars and coffee shops and the backs of restaurants and people's living rooms listening to terrible poems and inspiring poems and feeling awkward and also superior to many of the people there.
i used to feel hopeful, though. i used to feel like this was a springboard, or a memory-in-the-making, i knew i was on my way to making something of myself and this poetry reading was just a stop along the way.
but i don't feel so hopeful now. now i just feel like an audience member.
i sat at a table in front of the stage between two women talking about their phD thesises and two women comparing engagement rings and felt ... vague.
does this make sense? i don't think it does. i am not writing like i used to. i worry my ability is all dried up. | | comments: 1 comment or Leave a comment |
| | Security: | | | Subject: | 32 | | Time: | 12:04 pm |
|
| yesterday was my birthday.
i think i'm going to stop at thirty two. not because i fear aging, but because my life isn't really what i want my life to be at 32. so i might just hang out here, in the early but not too early part of my 30s and wait for the rest of my life to catch up to my age.
i don't want a husband, necessarily, but i don't want a boyfriend, either. i'd like someone who lives with me and helps with the dishes.
i don't want to be a mother, but i'd like to have at least a plan as to when i might paint that little back room something other than puce.
i don't want to quit my job, but i would like something that doesn't involve checking out books and getting people fired.
i don't want to write a bestselling great canadian novel....oh, wait. that i do want.
and i want to do it all before i'm 33. so i'm just not going to turn 33 until those goals are met.
sound feasible? | | comments: 1 comment or Leave a comment |
| what do you think it says about you when you spend an hour looking at facebook photos of YOURSELF in order to gauge just what people who have recently rediscovered you on facebook will think of your life?
i am so pathetic. i spend my evenings talking on the phone and watching television and doing the odd chore. i'm a teenager paying her own mortgage. | | comments: 2 comments or Leave a comment |
| | Security: | | | Subject: | trust | | Time: | 08:30 pm |
|
| the trouble with trusting someone, with deciding to trust someone, means that you have to believe they are not going to let you down.
you have to accept that he will come through for you. full stop. there can be no doubt that he will succeed. assuming he will fail, or entering into a commitment believing that, at some point, he will let you down, means you do not trust him.
or, you can look at it this way: you can trust that you will be disappointed.
every time he asks me to put my faith and trust in him, i am always holding my breath, i am always waiting for that eventual disappointment.
it has been a long, long, long time since he has let me down, in fact he goes out of his way to solidify that trust, but i still expect it, i still wait for it. i still believe that this is too good to be true.
this feeling has got to go away. | | comments: Leave a comment |
| oh, f*ck.
i think i'm depressed.
i am trying to decide if it is situational or actual. i'm hoping it's situational. i mean, there are four feet of snow outside my window and i work with .... well. i can't talk about it. but trust me: it ain't fun.
so can i blame the endless hours of television, the reluctance to speak to people, and my disinterest in things like changing the sheets, eating actual meals, and combing my hair on the weather and the workplace? or is this something real?
i can't decide. i'm going to bed. i've been awake for fourteen hours. enough. | | comments: Leave a comment |
| today was a snow day. except i wasted it. no one came over. i cleaned nothing. i did not make snowmen or hot chocolate or take a walk in the drifts. (actually, i tried to take a walk, but it was lonely, cold, and had no destination, so i turned back.)
i shoveled my sidewalk. i shoveled the neighbour's, too, to be friendly. i cooked a frozen pizza and then re-froze half of it to prevent myself from eating the whole thing. i marinated a block of tofu and made a lentil soup. to stop the snowcrazies i added apples to the soup to keep life interesting, and hemmed a dress while watching endless episodes of sex and the city, and wondered why single women on television seem to have more sex than me, who is technically "in a relationship" in real life.
i tried to call mr man many, many times but he did not answer the phone.
i called some other people and we talked but unfortunately i have only two things on my mind:
1. my horribly stressful worklife and
2. the fact that the vietnamese consulate won't give me a visa until i update my passport -- apparently you cant get a visa unless your passport is valid for six months from your arrival in the country and mine will expire in may. not long enough for vietnam. i have to get to the passport office tomorrow for 830am so i can get the update done and the roads are nearly undriveable. i would walk but it would take an hour with the amount of snow on the sidewalks and then i will be late for work. it's freaking me out. if i can't get my visa i can't go to vietnam, and mr man will go alone.
damn snow days. unlike the rest of you, who likely love the friendly, snowy coziness of them, i in fact HATE THEM. | | comments: Leave a comment |
| | Security: | | | Subject: | fatness | | Time: | 09:57 pm |
|
| sometimes i meet up with people i haven't seen in a while and they usually ask, "have you lost weight? because you look thinner than before."
i am never thinner than i was. i am usually fatter. but still, people say it. which makes me wonder: does this mean that people's perception of me, in their memories, is of a very, very fat person? do i imprint as obese? | | comments: 5 comments or Leave a comment |
|
a well worn story
|
|
![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif?v=92.2){kind=small}
sleevespeak's journal
accomplished