I've slept a total of four hours and 45 minutes since Monday at 7am.
Withdrawls are a bitch. This better be worth it.
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Monday, October 26, 2009
"The Blackbirds are rough today."
It's 6:44am. Just as it is always 6:44am. Monday comes with 5 o'clock.
I've got much to say, but the words have left with the rain.
I'm hopeful, while he calls me a liar and he is right. He scolds me for not being stronger before, for failing to keep my promises to myself. I hang up the phone with the three words I long to say the most sitting heavily on my chest. I'm not playing this game. I'm not playing this fucking game today.
What happened to exams based on fact? I don't want to share my sacred place. It is my sacred place, not their sacred place. If she asks us to read these in class, I will politely decline. This isn't creative writing or genre or short story. I prefer to save my raw emotion for those classes. Not this one.....
I hate emotionally draining days that start so early.
I've got much to say, but the words have left with the rain.
I'm hopeful, while he calls me a liar and he is right. He scolds me for not being stronger before, for failing to keep my promises to myself. I hang up the phone with the three words I long to say the most sitting heavily on my chest. I'm not playing this game. I'm not playing this fucking game today.
What happened to exams based on fact? I don't want to share my sacred place. It is my sacred place, not their sacred place. If she asks us to read these in class, I will politely decline. This isn't creative writing or genre or short story. I prefer to save my raw emotion for those classes. Not this one.....
I hate emotionally draining days that start so early.
Sunday, October 25, 2009
Okay! I'm here. I've not disappeared. I must say that I am glad someone noticed I was gone.
So I was sitting in the commons before class on Thursday and I could feel someone staring at me. As I look up, there's Professor Hotness. He smiles and waves at me. I had tried to catch him during office hours, but as I have explained, that's generally impossible. I moved to sit on the couch beside him and let him know how confused I was regarding this paper. His new ideas for my paper helped quite a bit. (Thanks for the advice, Bunni!)
Now the sidebar: I like to consider myself attractive usually. I've got self-esteem issues, but in a normal setting (AKA Sobriety,) I can see that I am running a close race with the conventionally pretty. At the same time, I don't think I am God's gift to men. I'm grounded enough to know when I don't have a shot in hell and when if I do shoot, I may hit something... I don't quite understand my attraction to this man. He's so incredibly sexy to me. I'm not sure if it is the dapper hats, the Boston accent, or those great glasses, but for some reason, I am drawn to him. I'm two semesters in to some sort of high school crush that I can't explain. I've not had a crush on anyone since FauxBama and before that, Marcus...
I can't help thinking that his suggestion that I discuss sexuality was completely coincidental. I really think this man is attracted to me for more reasons than this. He could just be a nice guy, but that doesn't seem likely. I told the entire story to the Evil One and he seemed to agree that the guy definitely has a thing for me. That's coming from the man that I love. (I shouldn't have told him. I was drunk and it really made sense at the time. However, I could tell it made him a little jealous, but that's another story, for another day.)
It's odd that I feel he's so unattainable. I guess it is because he's my superior as far as my education is concerned. So what do I do? I'm not the smoothest person I know, so I am pretty sure that it is obvious that I want him. Are there rules in college against dating students? How does one even approach something like that?
I haven't met someone outside of a bar since 2005. I really am not sure how this works anymore. Bar's are easy. You're drunk, they're drunk, give them your number, and decide the next day if you want to waste your time. Honestly, I've not dated anyone seriously since FauxBama and before that, Marcus. I don't know HOW to date someone I like. Anthony doesn't count. He's not my type: Too clingy, too wrapped up in the seedy side of life, no ambitions, and no balls. Gary doesn't count. He looks like a prince, beautiful dreads, gorgeous skin, great bone structure, but he knows that he's hot. That makes him unattractive. They were fun at times, but both want something from me I am not willing or able to give.
We'll see how this plays out. I'm sure this isn't my only post tonight. It's been a long weekend and I have plenty to say.
So I was sitting in the commons before class on Thursday and I could feel someone staring at me. As I look up, there's Professor Hotness. He smiles and waves at me. I had tried to catch him during office hours, but as I have explained, that's generally impossible. I moved to sit on the couch beside him and let him know how confused I was regarding this paper. His new ideas for my paper helped quite a bit. (Thanks for the advice, Bunni!)
Now the sidebar: I like to consider myself attractive usually. I've got self-esteem issues, but in a normal setting (AKA Sobriety,) I can see that I am running a close race with the conventionally pretty. At the same time, I don't think I am God's gift to men. I'm grounded enough to know when I don't have a shot in hell and when if I do shoot, I may hit something... I don't quite understand my attraction to this man. He's so incredibly sexy to me. I'm not sure if it is the dapper hats, the Boston accent, or those great glasses, but for some reason, I am drawn to him. I'm two semesters in to some sort of high school crush that I can't explain. I've not had a crush on anyone since FauxBama and before that, Marcus...
I can't help thinking that his suggestion that I discuss sexuality was completely coincidental. I really think this man is attracted to me for more reasons than this. He could just be a nice guy, but that doesn't seem likely. I told the entire story to the Evil One and he seemed to agree that the guy definitely has a thing for me. That's coming from the man that I love. (I shouldn't have told him. I was drunk and it really made sense at the time. However, I could tell it made him a little jealous, but that's another story, for another day.)
It's odd that I feel he's so unattainable. I guess it is because he's my superior as far as my education is concerned. So what do I do? I'm not the smoothest person I know, so I am pretty sure that it is obvious that I want him. Are there rules in college against dating students? How does one even approach something like that?
I haven't met someone outside of a bar since 2005. I really am not sure how this works anymore. Bar's are easy. You're drunk, they're drunk, give them your number, and decide the next day if you want to waste your time. Honestly, I've not dated anyone seriously since FauxBama and before that, Marcus. I don't know HOW to date someone I like. Anthony doesn't count. He's not my type: Too clingy, too wrapped up in the seedy side of life, no ambitions, and no balls. Gary doesn't count. He looks like a prince, beautiful dreads, gorgeous skin, great bone structure, but he knows that he's hot. That makes him unattractive. They were fun at times, but both want something from me I am not willing or able to give.
We'll see how this plays out. I'm sure this isn't my only post tonight. It's been a long weekend and I have plenty to say.
Thursday, October 22, 2009
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
5am: Reckoning Time
I took Bad Bunni's advice and shot Professor Hotness an email. (I would've gone in during office hours for some face to face interaction. However, in my two semesters dealing with the man, I've discovered trying to catch him is like trying to make the sun come out at midnight.) He got back to me in record time. Unfortunately, Professor Hotness is unbelievably intelligent. He does his best. He knows that none of his students are on his level. This is reflected in his grading. (Actually, maybe it's the TA's grading. Whatev.) He gave me kudos, but suggested I narrow down my topic. Last semester's research paper was easy: Nina Simone, music, reflection of the Civil Rights Movement. This semester? He wants me to elaborate on the reasons that life was different for freedmen in New Orleans than in other sections of the antebellum South. This sounds easy, but dealing with limited resources, I was having trouble finding sources for the broad topic.
On to class two: Asian Philosphy is freaking nuts. I understand a little better than other classmates. I've got a test in that tomorrow since I decided that school was unimportant last week.
Oklahoma Authors is tolerable. I would've picked different authors to study, but I am not teaching the class. TM hooked us up on a meet and greet with S.E. Hinton. That was sweet. I don't think that The Outsiders is really literary genius, but she was great. The super cool thing was that Mrs. Hinton doesn't typically do public appearances. I'm not sure why because she was charming and witty. It was honestly a pleasure to meet her. I'm going to watch Rumblefish and see how I feel about that one. I am just a little sad that I never had a chance to meet late Oklahoma authors such as John Hope Franklin and Ralph Ellison.
Juvenile Delinquency makes me want to hit someone...HARD. I've got plenty of pent-up aggression to write about. You would think that an internet class would save you the trouble of dealing with complete idiots. Not so much. I hate posting discussions. It just shows how horribly Oklahoma high schools have failed. Hell, I have no idea how I've made as far as I have. I can barely write a proper sentence.
I've decided that win or lose, I've got to start trying harder. I can't continue skating by with low As and high Bs in every class. This shit is getting hectic. If I plan on being a professional anything, I need to start writing like one.
I'm getting old. I have grown tired of taking classes with 18 and 19 year olds. I have considered not taking classes this summer. Unfortunately, that will push me back to a 2011 graduation date. I don't know that I can handle Oklahoma for two more years. This place is driving me completely insane.
All GRE and LSAT studies are going to have to wait until Winter break. On top of that, I've got to start working on my prose (or whatever they're calling it) to submit to these schools. Two 15 page short pieces for University of Texas, multiple short pieces for Louisiana State, and who knows what NYU wants?! I can never get a hold of them to find out. I figure that out of three schools, someone will think I am brilliant. Judging by the quality of work submitted by others in Genre, it really can't be that hard.
Clay has made me a character in his book. It is too bad that he didn't take some creative license with my character. I'll forever be trapped on paper in this shitty job. I hoped that after spending as much time with him as I have recently, he could come up with something better than that. Meh, I guess I should be thankful I'm in the book at all. I think he's submitting it for publishing sometime mid-2010. I wish him luck. Surely there are others out there that will appreciate his dry humor as I do.
This is all over the place because that's how I've felt the past two weeks. I'm here, I'm there. I can't find myself in anything at the moment. That's not a bad thing, just makes it hard to finish anything. Alright, I'm out. Too tired to write anything else this morning.
On to class two: Asian Philosphy is freaking nuts. I understand a little better than other classmates. I've got a test in that tomorrow since I decided that school was unimportant last week.
Oklahoma Authors is tolerable. I would've picked different authors to study, but I am not teaching the class. TM hooked us up on a meet and greet with S.E. Hinton. That was sweet. I don't think that The Outsiders is really literary genius, but she was great. The super cool thing was that Mrs. Hinton doesn't typically do public appearances. I'm not sure why because she was charming and witty. It was honestly a pleasure to meet her. I'm going to watch Rumblefish and see how I feel about that one. I am just a little sad that I never had a chance to meet late Oklahoma authors such as John Hope Franklin and Ralph Ellison.
Juvenile Delinquency makes me want to hit someone...HARD. I've got plenty of pent-up aggression to write about. You would think that an internet class would save you the trouble of dealing with complete idiots. Not so much. I hate posting discussions. It just shows how horribly Oklahoma high schools have failed. Hell, I have no idea how I've made as far as I have. I can barely write a proper sentence.
I've decided that win or lose, I've got to start trying harder. I can't continue skating by with low As and high Bs in every class. This shit is getting hectic. If I plan on being a professional anything, I need to start writing like one.
I'm getting old. I have grown tired of taking classes with 18 and 19 year olds. I have considered not taking classes this summer. Unfortunately, that will push me back to a 2011 graduation date. I don't know that I can handle Oklahoma for two more years. This place is driving me completely insane.
All GRE and LSAT studies are going to have to wait until Winter break. On top of that, I've got to start working on my prose (or whatever they're calling it) to submit to these schools. Two 15 page short pieces for University of Texas, multiple short pieces for Louisiana State, and who knows what NYU wants?! I can never get a hold of them to find out. I figure that out of three schools, someone will think I am brilliant. Judging by the quality of work submitted by others in Genre, it really can't be that hard.
Clay has made me a character in his book. It is too bad that he didn't take some creative license with my character. I'll forever be trapped on paper in this shitty job. I hoped that after spending as much time with him as I have recently, he could come up with something better than that. Meh, I guess I should be thankful I'm in the book at all. I think he's submitting it for publishing sometime mid-2010. I wish him luck. Surely there are others out there that will appreciate his dry humor as I do.
This is all over the place because that's how I've felt the past two weeks. I'm here, I'm there. I can't find myself in anything at the moment. That's not a bad thing, just makes it hard to finish anything. Alright, I'm out. Too tired to write anything else this morning.
Saturday, October 17, 2009
My research proposal should read like this:
My paper will attempt to illustrate my ability to bullshit through a 15-17 page research paper. I will utilize the thesaurus to the best of my ability. The majority of my information will come from Wikipedia, but I will cite other, more reliable sources. Ultimately, the purpose of the paper will be to obtain an A- or at least a B.
My paper will attempt to illustrate my ability to bullshit through a 15-17 page research paper. I will utilize the thesaurus to the best of my ability. The majority of my information will come from Wikipedia, but I will cite other, more reliable sources. Ultimately, the purpose of the paper will be to obtain an A- or at least a B.
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
The world is getting married and you know what I say to that? Fuck you, world, fuck you.
As everyone else is getting married, engaged, or knocked up, I'm here...Arguing with a man that can't tell me why he doesn't want me. He can tell me that I am perfect...that I am a great cook, I am intelligent, I am beautiful, that I've never done anything wrong, but he cannot tell me why it is impossible for him to be faithful to me.
I don't need a shrink. I don't need pills or booze or another man. I need amnesia. I need to be able to forget that the man who means everything to me exists.
I'm tired. Unfortunately, not tired to the point that I am going to stop being his friend. He says he needs a friend. He claims that he has no other friends. And of course, I am going to be a sorry sad sack and be the person he needs me to be.
And you know what? I just don't have it in me to give a fuck anymore.
4 years. 4 long, miserable, wasted years of my life that I have given to this man and here I stand. Better than I was before, but still less than I should be.
I can think of no better comparison than this:
I'm Robert Johnson. He's the devil. I've sold this man my soul to be able to play great music. Now, I can play like a motherfucker. There is no one in this world that can play better than I. But he's taken my soul. You can't get your soul back and playing great music doesn't make up for a lost soul.
He sat there and told me that I will never be happy because no one will compare to him in my mind. He wasn't being conceited. He wasn't trying to control me. He was just speaking from what he sees. The sad part, he's right. No matter how many men I date, no matter how many times I meet someone, they'll never be half the person that he is in my eyes.
It's fucking sad.
I listened to Bunni's vlog earlier and she was talking about how dating in your thirties is different than dating in your twenties. Dating in your twenties is an adventure. It is fun. It's about meeting people and going out for drinks and dinner. To me, it's not like that anymore. At 26, I would love to meet someone that I would see more than once. I would like to meet someone that meant more to me than a nice dinner and tolerable conversation.
At the same time, I'm a liar.
I don't care about being single. It is not being single that bothers me. I'm okay with sitting around waiting on something that may never be.
Enough of my bitching.
As everyone else is getting married, engaged, or knocked up, I'm here...Arguing with a man that can't tell me why he doesn't want me. He can tell me that I am perfect...that I am a great cook, I am intelligent, I am beautiful, that I've never done anything wrong, but he cannot tell me why it is impossible for him to be faithful to me.
I don't need a shrink. I don't need pills or booze or another man. I need amnesia. I need to be able to forget that the man who means everything to me exists.
I'm tired. Unfortunately, not tired to the point that I am going to stop being his friend. He says he needs a friend. He claims that he has no other friends. And of course, I am going to be a sorry sad sack and be the person he needs me to be.
And you know what? I just don't have it in me to give a fuck anymore.
4 years. 4 long, miserable, wasted years of my life that I have given to this man and here I stand. Better than I was before, but still less than I should be.
I can think of no better comparison than this:
I'm Robert Johnson. He's the devil. I've sold this man my soul to be able to play great music. Now, I can play like a motherfucker. There is no one in this world that can play better than I. But he's taken my soul. You can't get your soul back and playing great music doesn't make up for a lost soul.
He sat there and told me that I will never be happy because no one will compare to him in my mind. He wasn't being conceited. He wasn't trying to control me. He was just speaking from what he sees. The sad part, he's right. No matter how many men I date, no matter how many times I meet someone, they'll never be half the person that he is in my eyes.
It's fucking sad.
I listened to Bunni's vlog earlier and she was talking about how dating in your thirties is different than dating in your twenties. Dating in your twenties is an adventure. It is fun. It's about meeting people and going out for drinks and dinner. To me, it's not like that anymore. At 26, I would love to meet someone that I would see more than once. I would like to meet someone that meant more to me than a nice dinner and tolerable conversation.
At the same time, I'm a liar.
I don't care about being single. It is not being single that bothers me. I'm okay with sitting around waiting on something that may never be.
Enough of my bitching.
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
The end of it all...
I finally did what I needed to do. It took every bit of courage in my body to tell him how I felt.
"I love you more than anything, but I cannot do this anymore."
I expected a conversation. I still expect a conversation. It wasn't a cut and dried statement. I explained it in depth. I told him that I couldn't be just friends after spending a substantial part of my life with him. I explained that this back and forth was tearing me apart. There is only so much I can take. It made sense yesterday morning. If he didn't love me, why would he do so much for me?
"So you want all or nothing, right? Is that what you're saying?"
Yes...Erm...No. FUCK I don't know anymore. He was supposed to call me back, but 16 hours later, I've heard nothing from the man.
I know that this is the way things NEED to happen. I know that this has been a long time coming. Does that make it any easier on my poor, poor heart? Nope.
What the hell do I do? I am the Queen of Self-Sabotage, but this was a freaking feat for even me.
"I love you more than anything, but I cannot do this anymore."
I expected a conversation. I still expect a conversation. It wasn't a cut and dried statement. I explained it in depth. I told him that I couldn't be just friends after spending a substantial part of my life with him. I explained that this back and forth was tearing me apart. There is only so much I can take. It made sense yesterday morning. If he didn't love me, why would he do so much for me?
"So you want all or nothing, right? Is that what you're saying?"
Yes...Erm...No. FUCK I don't know anymore. He was supposed to call me back, but 16 hours later, I've heard nothing from the man.
I know that this is the way things NEED to happen. I know that this has been a long time coming. Does that make it any easier on my poor, poor heart? Nope.
What the hell do I do? I am the Queen of Self-Sabotage, but this was a freaking feat for even me.
Sunday, October 11, 2009
I don't want to be this upset over someone that is only there when he want to be. I really don't. I don't understand why I still love you this much after you've broken my heart so many times. I've tried to not love you. I've tried to not call you. I've tried so many things, but there's always this big empty space in my heart. It's there all the time...And it doesn't feel great at all.That's why I've been crying all day. I don't know what to do. I was upset because I love you so much that it consumes me. Yes, I am going to school for myself, but at the same time, I am going to prove myself to you. I don't know that you could ever understand what it means to feel this way about another person. Frankly, I don't know that I could wish that hurt upon another human being.Yeah, I got upset because of what she said, but we all know you're not capable of telling me the truth. So who else am I supposed to believe? I yelled at you and I shouldn't have. I know this. I knew this as the words were coming out of my mouth.Honestly, what have I ever done to deserve to be treated like this? You yell at me. You hang up on me. You ignore me whenever some other person comes into your life. You're right: It is not my business who you "see," but I feel that I deserve to know. You only act so unkind when there is someone else.You mean so much to me, but at the same time, I don't think that it is right for it to be so.I'm irrational at times. I can't lie to you or anyone else. I'm irrational because love is irrational. I act this way because I don't know how else I am expected to act. Being nice doesn't help my situation, being mean and nasty SURE doesn't help my situation. I'm not stupid. It's not like I am pretending that you didn't cheat and lie and leave me alone. I know that no matter what I do I will never be good enough for you. What I don't know is why? Why is it that no matter how I act, no matter what I do, I am not good enough for you? Why is it that you still talk to me? And help me out when I need it? What is the point in doing things that make me love you even more than I already did? I'm not pulling a "poor me," but you know better than anyone that you're the only person I have. Before I met you, I was on the downward path to self-destruction. Now that I don't have you, it seems I'm headed back down that path.I don't ask for a lot...At least I don't feel that I do. I just want an explanation. I just need to know why, after everything you've put me through, I am not good enough. You told me months ago that it seemed I was trying to push you away...Maybe I am, subconciously, trying to get you out of my life. I don't want that...At least I don't think I want that. You're generally there for me when I need you. I am not sure, but I know I can't convince myself that you don't love me...
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
Three cheers to makin an ass of yourself!
I'm pretty sure that I never want to go back to Oklahoma Authors again. EVERY. I'm a damned idiot. I guess if you're invited to a special function, it would be a brilliant idea to know who is being honored. I feel like an ASSHOLE.
Which leads me to my next point, goodbye booze. I'm saying goodbye. I will miss you. We had some great times, but you're not very nice. You take all of my money.
Which leads me to my next point, goodbye booze. I'm saying goodbye. I will miss you. We had some great times, but you're not very nice. You take all of my money.
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