Wednesday, July 11, 2001
sur-re-al - adj. 1. : having the intense irrational reality of a dream 2. : of our relating to surrealism
pride - n 1. : CONCEIT 2. : justifiable self-respect 3. : elation over an act or possession 4. : haughty behavior : DISDAIN 5. : ostentatious display
lost - adj. 1. : not used, won, or claimed 2. : no longer possessed or known 3. : ruined or destroyed physically or morally 4. : DENIED; also: HARDENED 5. : unable to find the way; also: HELPLESS 6. : ABSORBED, RAPT 7. : not appreciated or understood
My going away parties begin tommorrow night, WOW - it's over, my "Year of Living Dangerously" - not quite (well the Chicago portion definately) - the first year of my life that I ever lived in a state not occupied by a relative (except for that second cousin who I still never had dinner with, which my Pop is gonna bitch about forever).
So here I sit in Hiroshima devastation, my cute little city apartment with the hardwood floors and funky fire-escape-esque balcony - that I'm still sure is haunted. God - I adored this little place. All my belongings covering the floor, boxes - some full, some open...wondering when those next two paychecks are spent - how am I gonna make it. Will I go from the life of Director to the life of a waiter? Will I drive my boyfriend insane or will he fall deeper in love with me? What will my AZ friends say, have they moved on, will they pity me behind my back, will they recognize me as the same guy who left his safe cocoon, or will they see how much I've grown and the man I've become (yeah - I'm avoiding the butterfly reference - too girly)
I need to - shit, I need to do so many things, I keep holding off - I don't want to hug Dan & Drew (my Chicago Father/Brother, Buddies/Siblings, Confidantes/Comrades) goodbye, Leslie & Mark - what am I gonna do without them (she - the most beautiful girl you'll ever see was in such shock last night), who will Ellena spare with? and will Mike & Jonah (what alternating heartache and happiness we brought to each others lives) make it in SFO on their own difficult journey?
I feel like I'm walking out in the middle of the movie, throwing an unfinished book out the window, writing a love letter and leaving out the adjectives...I'm gonna get weak soon, I'm gonna cry, I'm dreading saying the first goodbyes tomorrow - I can hear the little rips tearing into my heart.
I'll be fine, I have always been one of those guys who always ends up fine...but right now it's the moment in the movie, when the scene touches you and for a moment you lose your breath, your eyes well with tears and you squeeze your boyfriends hand for reassurance.
pride - n 1. : CONCEIT 2. : justifiable self-respect 3. : elation over an act or possession 4. : haughty behavior : DISDAIN 5. : ostentatious display
lost - adj. 1. : not used, won, or claimed 2. : no longer possessed or known 3. : ruined or destroyed physically or morally 4. : DENIED; also: HARDENED 5. : unable to find the way; also: HELPLESS 6. : ABSORBED, RAPT 7. : not appreciated or understood
My going away parties begin tommorrow night, WOW - it's over, my "Year of Living Dangerously" - not quite (well the Chicago portion definately) - the first year of my life that I ever lived in a state not occupied by a relative (except for that second cousin who I still never had dinner with, which my Pop is gonna bitch about forever).
So here I sit in Hiroshima devastation, my cute little city apartment with the hardwood floors and funky fire-escape-esque balcony - that I'm still sure is haunted. God - I adored this little place. All my belongings covering the floor, boxes - some full, some open...wondering when those next two paychecks are spent - how am I gonna make it. Will I go from the life of Director to the life of a waiter? Will I drive my boyfriend insane or will he fall deeper in love with me? What will my AZ friends say, have they moved on, will they pity me behind my back, will they recognize me as the same guy who left his safe cocoon, or will they see how much I've grown and the man I've become (yeah - I'm avoiding the butterfly reference - too girly)
I need to - shit, I need to do so many things, I keep holding off - I don't want to hug Dan & Drew (my Chicago Father/Brother, Buddies/Siblings, Confidantes/Comrades) goodbye, Leslie & Mark - what am I gonna do without them (she - the most beautiful girl you'll ever see was in such shock last night), who will Ellena spare with? and will Mike & Jonah (what alternating heartache and happiness we brought to each others lives) make it in SFO on their own difficult journey?
I feel like I'm walking out in the middle of the movie, throwing an unfinished book out the window, writing a love letter and leaving out the adjectives...I'm gonna get weak soon, I'm gonna cry, I'm dreading saying the first goodbyes tomorrow - I can hear the little rips tearing into my heart.
I'll be fine, I have always been one of those guys who always ends up fine...but right now it's the moment in the movie, when the scene touches you and for a moment you lose your breath, your eyes well with tears and you squeeze your boyfriends hand for reassurance.
Tuesday, July 10, 2001
shit - got to fix the reblogger again, my fault screwed it up.
I'm wiped - what did I do with all my personal errands and shit when I had a job ? Seems like there is never time in the day. Pretty much selling off or giving away all of my belongings (haven't I been here before?) and beginning my possession-less journey back to AZ. Feel kinda like one of those restless nomads who wears to much denim in a movie of the week : he breezes into town, not a care in the world - but carrying all of life's frustrations square on his back, who is this mysterious stranger (and does he put out?)
Moving is a downward-spiral with a spring at the bottom that somehow sends you right back up, Windex on a crystal ball whose contents turned out to be blurred of their on accord no matter how much shine you bring to that sphere...you know it's late and it's tired if I'm getting poetic on you.
So It's odd - I have so much on my mind, but I'm blogging less. Today is my ex-boyfriend's birthday, Joey. I feel cheated I couldn't wish him Happy Birthday today, tell him he's still very important to me, how everytime I see a picture of that goofy smile and boyish face I want to give him an unbreakable bear-hug - I feel like I was so young when I met him even though it was only five years ago. I mean anyone who reads my blog knows my heart belongs to 'Lucky' my current boyfriend/my lobster who this time next week I will be living with in sunny Phoenix, Arizona. But all of this picking up and sorting through my pack rat collection of belongings always brings Joey back in my mind (nostalgia, heartache, sentimentality), add to that his birthday and then go one step further to the fact that this will be the first birthday since 1996 that I didn't call or anything.
Why ? Well I couldn't even if I wanted to. Joey sent me a one email letter one day in the winter - he and his boyfriend were moving to Long Beach (if you are a Long Beach blogger - please do not attempt to go put all the facts together - Joe is a very private person - I respect that and do not wish to intrude on his privacy) and then he was gone, no forwarding address, no phone number, gone.
It was probably for the best, he had his life, I had mine, but how odd that that person could have been such an important part of my first few years out of college and not wanted to see where I had ended up or wanted to share the same with me. Does he hope I succeeded or dreamed that I failed - right now I'm no longer sure which it is. Does he still play the guitar when he's blue? Did he change his side of the bed? How many cups of coffee is he up to in the morning? Does he think the Cohen Brothers have lost their touch? How are his folks? Brother? Sister? If he found out I was laid-off, would his initital thought be sadness or would he wonder if I didn't do a good enough job? Does he ever open the old birthday cards from me and think what I'm thinking right now, how stupid we are for writing "here's to many, many more birthday's together".
I'm wiped - what did I do with all my personal errands and shit when I had a job ? Seems like there is never time in the day. Pretty much selling off or giving away all of my belongings (haven't I been here before?) and beginning my possession-less journey back to AZ. Feel kinda like one of those restless nomads who wears to much denim in a movie of the week : he breezes into town, not a care in the world - but carrying all of life's frustrations square on his back, who is this mysterious stranger (and does he put out?)
Moving is a downward-spiral with a spring at the bottom that somehow sends you right back up, Windex on a crystal ball whose contents turned out to be blurred of their on accord no matter how much shine you bring to that sphere...you know it's late and it's tired if I'm getting poetic on you.
So It's odd - I have so much on my mind, but I'm blogging less. Today is my ex-boyfriend's birthday, Joey. I feel cheated I couldn't wish him Happy Birthday today, tell him he's still very important to me, how everytime I see a picture of that goofy smile and boyish face I want to give him an unbreakable bear-hug - I feel like I was so young when I met him even though it was only five years ago. I mean anyone who reads my blog knows my heart belongs to 'Lucky' my current boyfriend/my lobster who this time next week I will be living with in sunny Phoenix, Arizona. But all of this picking up and sorting through my pack rat collection of belongings always brings Joey back in my mind (nostalgia, heartache, sentimentality), add to that his birthday and then go one step further to the fact that this will be the first birthday since 1996 that I didn't call or anything.
Why ? Well I couldn't even if I wanted to. Joey sent me a one email letter one day in the winter - he and his boyfriend were moving to Long Beach (if you are a Long Beach blogger - please do not attempt to go put all the facts together - Joe is a very private person - I respect that and do not wish to intrude on his privacy) and then he was gone, no forwarding address, no phone number, gone.
It was probably for the best, he had his life, I had mine, but how odd that that person could have been such an important part of my first few years out of college and not wanted to see where I had ended up or wanted to share the same with me. Does he hope I succeeded or dreamed that I failed - right now I'm no longer sure which it is. Does he still play the guitar when he's blue? Did he change his side of the bed? How many cups of coffee is he up to in the morning? Does he think the Cohen Brothers have lost their touch? How are his folks? Brother? Sister? If he found out I was laid-off, would his initital thought be sadness or would he wonder if I didn't do a good enough job? Does he ever open the old birthday cards from me and think what I'm thinking right now, how stupid we are for writing "here's to many, many more birthday's together".
ugh -I'm so behind in blogging, trying to through together a new look...maybe
nope - looked like shit - looked so much better in CF Studio....bummer
Ok something is frigging up with blogger today - these updates are taken forever.
nope - looked like shit - looked so much better in CF Studio....bummer
Ok something is frigging up with blogger today - these updates are taken forever.
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