Super___Connected's Xanga

Monday, November 09, 2009

Mon, 09 Nov 2009 18:04:28 GMT

My phone reads text message aloud now.

"I need physical intimacy" sounds so robotic and perfect on that electronic female tongue. For a split second it all became clear because of this feature on my phone. Of course it was all gone the next moment, but I understood it all and it tugged at my heartstrings (sorry for the cliche) for a little while at least.

I have a love/hate relationship with the fact that I fall into patterns and habits with people. I both love and hate familiarity, because as soon as something becomes familiar, regular, and comfortable, the fear of losing it creeps up as well. Then when I actually lose it, I become so disconnected and foreign feeling. And it's near impossible to find that same comfort in something new.

I enjoy the signs and questions of meeting new people. The single life is okay. I don't mind it. I've gone through worse experiences. It just takes forever to really put the past in the past. Especially when you're face to face with it just about everyday.

I should probably start writing again. Things would probably make more sense and I might actually be able to process things.

Anyway, Death Cab still reminds me of him. I'm pretty sure it always will. Especially this album.

time for the final bout. rows of deserted houses:
all our stable mates are highway bound.
give us our measly sum:
getting the air inside my lungs is heavenly.
we're starting out with nothing but crippling doubt.
we'll rest easy (justified).
I've suffered a swift defeat, I'll endure countless repeats.
the gift of memory is an awful curse.
with age it just gets much worse, but I won't mind.

Wednesday, November 04, 2009

Wed, 04 Nov 2009 19:17:37 GMT

Any idiot can face a crisis - it's day to day living that wears you out.
- Anton Chekhov

Amen, Mr.Chekhov.

Going back to sleep forever.

Or at least until orchestra at 4.

Sunday, November 01, 2009

Sun, 01 Nov 2009 23:23:37 GMT

Yikes. I just went on my last few pages.

I've been such a downer the last few months.

Sorry.

Saturday, October 31, 2009

Sat, 31 Oct 2009 17:02:55 GMT

Last semester, my Russian literature professor told us that doctors in Russia used to/still do prescribe Chekhov stories to terminally ill patients because of the melancholy hope that is a side effect of his easily relatable characters. The main theme throughout his short stories being life is hard and miserable at times, but it still goes on and we can persevere.

I've been reading Anna Karenina over the last few days and I'm about halfway through. I'm dying to know what happens with Vronsky and Anna.

But I've been feeling down lately. Too much to do. Not enough time to do it. And I won't lie, sometimes it really sucks not having someone to lean on. I know, I know, I have friends and family, but sometimes that doesn't cut it and you just need somebody to hold you so tight that you can't breathe and it squeezes all the bad out.

I don't know what to do other than read Chekhov.

Monday, October 26, 2009

Mon, 26 Oct 2009 01:42:36 GMT

Played Tchaikovsky at my first concert of the semester.

Sat and soaked in a bubble bath in my new tub.

Drank too much wine, nibbled on chocolate, and read Anna Karenina.

Today was just about perfect.

Also, there are new Taylor Swift songs floating around the internet that I'm basically obsessed with now.

Wednesday, October 21, 2009

Wed, 21 Oct 2009 16:45:26 GMT

Life is so exhausting.

All I want to do right now is curl up in bed and cry all afternoon.

I hate feeling like this.

Wednesday, October 14, 2009

Wed, 14 Oct 2009 19:27:29 GMT

Violent is the motion in my heart and in my body and mind. And silent is the feeling that I lost but I'm determined to find. And love is but and ocean, unrealistic notion, but I cling to her devotion and I let it pull me down to the floor.

* *

I don't have much to complain about these days. I still have to deal with complications. Longing. Guilt. Desire. Loneliness. Cravings. Uncertainty. Wondering what could have been. All those sorts of things. But I get by.

I've been talking daily with a fellow writer. We spend hours on the phone every night and he never fails to make me laugh. I look forward to talking to him each day, and it's wonderful learning something new each day. I'm sort of basking in this warmth of new possibility. There are the butterflies when I see his name on my phone and that giggle when I get a text in the middle of the day.

I'm making a guest appearance at the writing group he started in Milwaukee tomorrow. Then on Friday we're going to see Andrew Bird. Somewhere in between seeing all of the friends I haven't seen in months, he's making me dinner. From the sounds of it, he's an excellent cook.

Jon? He's working on himself. Still fucked up as ever. But I'm not tangled up in the mess so much. I still care about him because I'm just one big soft spot. But that chapter is long gone. Good memories and bad. It happened. But it's all memories right now. And the mind flavors memories as it pleases.

Transition periods are so strange.

In other news, I'm considering graduate studies and sometimes wishing I had stayed a music major. More about that later. Perhaps.

Also, listen to this song. I can't get it out of my head.

Tuesday, October 06, 2009

Tue, 06 Oct 2009 23:48:37 GMT

He misses you? Good, he should. You're sexy, pretty, fun, outgoing and fun to be around. Guys that haven't met you yet, miss you. But don't get back together with him, because somewhere out there, there is a guy searching really hard for you. He's the one that deserves someone amazing like you. Let him have it and not the asshole that left you.

I'm stuck between stations.

Mon, 05 Oct 2009 02:28:31 GMT

A few notes...

My life is too freaking complicated sometimes.

I move out of my parents' house and end up having different parent to answer questions to. I'm 21 years old, I should be able to NOT date whomever I want without fear of a guilt trip.

I don't want your damn muffins. Stop bringing them to Russian because I just end up throwing them away before Music Theory.

You're hilarious. Keep drinking whiskey.

I hate you and your stupid commentaries on my life. You sit and ponder everything, waver between two decisions for all of eternity, then this disease of uncertainty bleeds into my life. Stop. You no longer have the right to protect me, seeing as how you are the source of most of my pain. Don't warn me about something you know nothing about. Stop using melodramatic metaphors. Stop using southern colloquial expressions. Stop saying you want to kiss me. Stop everything. Leave me the hell alone.

Thank you for your understanding the other morning. I appreciate it more than you know.

I'm too forgiving for my own good.

I might have forgotten what 'simple happiness' is. All I know is complication and spurts of laughter.

I'm playing in a youth symphony and getting paid to be there. Sorry, little kids. You have to be yelled at by a crazed Hawaiin woman without getting paid. Aloha my ass.

I like playing in a two violin/two viola quartet.

I hate being busy all the time, but I hate having time on my hands. How does that work, exactly?

трахните мою жизнь.

I can't wait to go on a double date with you. Especially when the other couple doesn't know they're on a double date. I hope you wear a collared shirt.

I have three bottles of white wine in my fridge. They need to be consumed soon.

Wednesday, September 23, 2009

Wed, 23 Sep 2009 22:42:54 GMT

Brain storming session:

How can I publicly (and legally) humiliate my lying, cheating, ex boyfriend?

Ready? GO!

Edit:

Really, I just want to punch him again and again and again, and make sure everyone knows what he did. His closest friend at the university very tastefully told me that he was asking another cellist to play in our quartet in an upcoming gig, because he knew it wouldn't be the greatest experience with Jon and I. I asked what Jon had told him. "He was actually really nice about it, just said the two of you weren't together anymore." So I told him, "He cheated on me for the last six months of our relationship and has been toying with my heart all summer while literally professing his love for another woman." His eyes got as big as dinner plates, and he was just like, "Wow."

Ten dollars says Jon bitches about defamation or some crap. He can eat it. I'm not telling anyone anything except exactly what happened. There are solid facts to base every damn word too.

I hate the fact that he's here. I love this university. I love the music classes and the orchestra. But I hate that he's here, it's making me resent the whole experience. And I hate that.

In other news, this song oddly sums up exactly how I feel and I can't stop playing it even though this band makes me feel like I'm 14.

Here are the lyrics because they're just so damn perfect for me right now.

We live in the same town, well don't we?
But I don't see you around anymore.
I go to all the same places, not even a trace of you.
Your days are numbered at 24.
And I'm getting bored waiting round for you,
We're not getting any younger,
and I won't look back 'cause there's no use.
It's time to move forward.

I feel no sympathy,
you live inside a cave.
You barely get by, there's no need to apologize,
I've got no time for feeling sorry.

I try not to think of what might happen
when your reality finally cuts through.
Well as for me, I got out and and I'm on the road.
The worst part is that this, this could be you.
You know it too, you can't run from your shame.
You're not getting any younger
Time is passing by, but you waited awake.
It's time to roll over.

I feel no sympathy,
you live inside a cave.
You barely get by, there's no need to apologize,
I've got no time for feeling sorry.