I remember once in college, sitting outside the Filmies’ place by campus at night, with Megan and Katie Shay, and I was ranting and raving about how fucked up things were, and Chip came up the driveway and it got louder and funnier. Everyone was laughing. Even Chip found me hilarious, and Chip is a funny guy. I thought of Fidget when I was brutal to Preston one day, and how many times she told me I should do stand up. And then Stephie is always in my head, with the sheep card asking “what is WRONG with these people?” I might be funny. However, if it is true that I’m funny, then it is absolutely true that I am funnier when shit goes poorly. I get cynical, depressive, and self-depreciating. However, or so I like to believe, I keep things kinda upbeat in a general sense. The world does keep turning.
I haven’t lost my job yet, but I am being edged out. It’s less than ideal. It is very loaded with drama, and I am starting to notice how little drama I care to involve myself in. I am trying to come up with ways to get away from situations and people that cause this, but dramatic people breed drama babies that yell loudly. Loud yelling bothers me.
I am getting better about writing. I’m swimming in seas of ideas and theories. I need notebooks to put things down. New Nathan will type for me anytime I ask, I think; he’s said as much. I don’t want to hand over my morning pages, so I need a new notebook. I want comp books like I used growing up. Writing my past and my process should be done in the manner it was lived, I think. I need to drop $10 at Office Max or something. I should put on my pretty new boots and break them in and walk to the store. But I could stay inside the slightly warmer apt instead and rewatch Django Unchained. Because Sam Jackson + Leonardo DiCaprio and fantasies of murdering southern assholes makes me super happy.
Game of Thrones comes out in 52 days, if I’m not mistaken. I am so excited.
My mother recently gave me some great advice in the best way advice can be given: she told me about a good change she’d made in her life and why. It was a great idea and an easy action to replicate. So I started watching It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia and am loving the experience. I almost feel like a good person compared to these folks, and I feel vicariously sated to never try steroids, hunt a human being, or enter a dance marathon. It’s not only entertaining but it’s beneficial to society as a whole, really. And to Stephie and Josh, who I imagine co-owning this hypothetical bar with me.
Last night I baked tilapia with garlic, onion and lemon. I read a few recipes and then made my own concoction. It was awesome. I made couscous and sauteed veggies and roasted beets and potatoes. I have an abundance of fresh, well-cooked food that I bought almost completely on my own. (Matt got us fish and we were gonna cook it but then had sex instead.) I am a mutherfucking adult, I don’t care what anyone says.
And as an adult, I can choose to go lay on the couch and wallow in unproductive self-pity. At least until the movie ends. Then I’ll vacuum.