birthday birthday birthday.

And then I was 26.

Diving right on in, my birthday dinner last night was fantastic. Sometimes I have a really hard time hanging out with my friends. I know it’s some sort of social anxiety that I should really examine, but for now it is what it is… so when I reach out and really try to surround myself with people it’s a big deal for me. And I’m proud of myself. I don’t just feel good about having people with me on my birthday, I feel good about letting go of whatever it is that keeps me from surrounding myself with people that I care about. Being out with people was different this time; I realized that no matter how I mistreat myself or others there are still people who are willing to fit my life into theirs. I love(d) it.

The end of the night was not what I expected it to be, but I think the unexpected situations in life are the ones that make everything else seem more real, more poignant, and more special. Sometimes things get hairy but I know now that the life I lead isn’t one I'd trade for any other. I think I was built to flounder and then flourish; and at some point I’m sure the trials of youth will subside and I will emerge on top and more together than I ever imagined. But the ups and downs that have salt and peppered my life are tiny examples of the bad, better, and best of what I used to be, and maybe the wonder that awaits me.

I feel better about 26 than I did about 25. I think the importance of the number weighs heavily on people. 25 is supposed to be a landmark age, it’s a tool of measurement, and increment of time, it’s a form of currency. It’s a relief to be 26. Now I feel that all I have to live up to is my own desires and responsibilities. I want 2009 to be about the growing out that comes with growing up. I want it to be about friends and friendship; I need to sort out my relationships. The last two days have showed me that Ryan Pfluger is one of the most important people that I’ve ever known, and that Ryan Hill is nothing less than a miracle; and that he has saved my life in more ways than I can explain in more ways than I can count. These are things I need to remember. These are things I need to keep. I can’t let people suffer because of my misgivings. I forgot how special people can be. And now I remember.

I spent my birthday the exact way I’d like to spend it. I slept in and got some much needed rest. I played videogames with my best friend, hanging out has become a sort of lifeblood. I ventured into NYC; met my boyfriend and a lemon tart. He bought me a dark gray wing, one to compliment his silver one. We are two different halves of a very perfect pair. We don’t match at all, but we certainly go together. He bought me a shirt that costs more than a third of my wardrobe put together. I said I wanted to rework my wardrobe this year and instantly he put me on that path. That is the kind of person that you never know how to thank. But I will try. We came home and ate macaroni and cheese, cupcakes, tarts, and brownies. Bonnie and Caitlin came over and we watched Will and Grace, RuPaul's Drag Race, Chelsea Lately, and Gossip Girl. The perfect end to a wonderful evening.

Videogames, books, brownies, dinner, and cupcakes abound;
so far 26 feels alright.
I am looking forward to the way that things could be.

Oh, and this is what I want next year click this link

And if you want to help a nerd realize his true potential then you should click this link right here

xoxo
gossip girl.

I am addicted to self expression and I will never not refer to myself as a boy.

I also cut my thumbnails too short once again. This will never end.

In lieu of writing I have been trying to do a lot more thinking recently. I suppose I am still trying, on the almost eve of my 26th year, to figure myself out to the best of my ability. I have come to the realization that the boy in me has yet to shed his youthful skin and tiptoe into adulthood. I was sitting on my xbox 360 the other day, eating cookies and thinking about my upcoming x-men tattoo (see), when I think it really hit me. And unlike other times when I self analyze this assessment stuck. I don’t know if it’s my ability to trust people ‘til the death, my inability to see the future more than 5 steps ahead of me, or my deep belief in the idea of wonder that keeps the kid in me alive… or maybe it’s a combination of all of those things. I just don’t feel like I’m growing up. I don’t feel the age even though I know I’m older. Instead it feels like I’m jumping rocks in a river; just as delighted to take flight as I am to find the ground again.

I have decided that 2009 should be about friendship. There are people an arm’s reach away from me that I’ve lost and that have lost me. And I hate it when that happens. I hate it when we both forget. And then it turns into the “I miss you” game. It is so simple and then it is so hard. I see the echo of my best friendships in everything I do. When I walk down a certain street or listen to a certain song. I can feel all of these relationships swirling around me. I can feel myself running through the rain on a Saturday afternoon, or entangling myself in someone whose scent wafts my way. I really think that is one of the worst parts of life. The losses that aren’t HUGE… the ones that just seem to happen and make little bits of your world fade away. And then I say things like “I want…” and “I miss…” and “I love…” and that only makes it worse; its little pin-prick reminders of the pieces of the people that we all used to be.

Sometimes it’s a wonder that everyone I know hasn’t shattered completely; shut down from constantly breaking into smaller and smaller pieces. Hah; this all seems so sad and yet I know it to be true. I feel like fragments of myself all of the time. Like people rarely ever get to see me, they just get an ever-chipping facet. I think that is why I cling to my idea of a childlike mentality. I just don’t want to give up on the possibility that things will once again gel. Maybe maybe maybe. I just don’t want to miss people anymore! I don’t want to feel like I have all of these open connections searching for an end. I don’t want to think of things I know I would enjoy doing with someone I lost my spark with. It makes the bleak seem that much more desolate. I want to feel like we are constantly connecting and combusting. I want to reignite whatever I need to reignite and realize the togetherness that I am missing.
That I always miss.
It is always missing.
Maybe maybe maybe maybe maybe.

08/09

So 2008 has finally come to an end.

With its departure I am also waving goodbye to the crippling demon of self doubt that kept me from realizing my dreams of blogging between heartbeats. SO... I'm back again.

I don't want to do a bullet list of the pros and cons of our previous year. What's over is done, no need to hash out the past in preparation for the future.

In my youth I was hesitant to actually have resolutions. I was afraid that I wouldn't be able to fulfill my own expectations of change; and that would result in an added resolution for the following year. But I think I’ve overcome that obstacle now. I’m trying to focus all of my energies on the completion of tasks and the building of plans… this way I won’t be holding on to expectations blindly.
Sounds awesome, right? I know.

So the last 6 or so months I’ve spent working myself ragged, playing xboxlive like my controller is the second coming of christ, and reorganizing my apartment until my brain stem bleeds. It’s good. I got promoted at work. My salary increased like, $8,000. That’s something to jump up and down about. I like knowing that decisions I make are being taken more seriously. I’m one of those people who thinks the things they have to say are important enough to shape an entire nation. And by one of those people I mean everyone, because we all think we have something to say.

2008 was an emotional year for everyone I know. It was like a constant looping rollercoaster. The ride is really nice, but the inability to get off is what makes it scary. And while I know my friends are very smart, I doubt anyone has figured out how to get off of life. So I’m hoping the coming of 2009 heralds in more of a parkway-like life; with off/on ramps, merging, and the occasional douchebag trying to run you off of the road.

Ryan and I are taking a trip to Puerto Rico in the end of February. I’m excited about wandering through the warmth in the dead of New York winter. It’s going to be good fun. We are also going to go see Kathy Griffin in February. Look at me, all busy and shit. My birthday is a month away and for some reason 26 sounds more soothing to me than 25. I don’t really believe that I actually grow in maturity in correlation with me growing in age, but to me 25 is that landmark age and anything older than that is special. I’m excited to be that kind of special, it makes me feel invincible. That sounds a little backwards, but if it made too much sense it would sound all trite and overworked, and the last thing I want to do is spout out tired clichés about age and death and blahblahblah.

Last night was great. The end of ’08 was lots of fun. I got to see a lot of friends I haven’t seen in a very long time and revel in the delight of making new ones. There was flavored vodka galore, champagne, and photo shoots. Good times. The end of the night reaffirmed the meaning of the word terror. But out of horrors sometimes wonderful beginnings are born. I think this year will mean wonders for me and mine. And I think the same for you and yours. And for us and ours, I hope the New Year means crazy good times, crazy fun, and more videogames. There are some awesome ones coming out this year.

I just got home from an overnight and I should be sleeping.

Well then...

Goodnight.

life lessons.

Life is as interesting as you make it.

I just found a quarter in a pair of shorts I haven't worn in years.

Now it's tucked behind my license in my wallet for good luck.

Interesting it is!

Blanche Devereaux

I feel like I should be creating. I find myself writing little blurbs in my phone or on my computer; opening up text documents and letting a few words flow. But then I stop myself. I wonder why. I am reminded of similar goings on that took place on an episode of The Golden Girls not too long ago. I remember Blanche was having trouble writing something or other and something happened and then everyone laughed before raising their arms in triumph over the evils of osteoporosis. I can't decide if that means I need to find some personal evil to vanquish or if I am sorely in need of guidance from a gaggle of gray-haired women.

I think the problem is that I know exactly what it is I am up to at the moment and exactly what it is I am feeling. Previously when I wrote anything of substance that was my weird sort of fusion of prose and poetry (Prosetry?) I was ass-deep in contemplation. Contemplating life and love and this and that. But I'm all stopped up. I think my continuing hiatus from writing ANYTHING is behind all of this. I keep letting myself not write in my blog, then when I try to express myself via text I have to remember what my voice reads like. It's coming back to me in booms and bursts, but I would like to get to the mega-explosion at the end. For the most part I write the way I speak. That is why I am a no good poet by dictionary definition. I'd say it's more of a rhythmic and lyrical free flowing uncensored thought process that breaks and builds with every press and pause my fingertips take.

I may or may not be sabotaging myself. That's okay. I'm up for a little reconnaissance and espionage work.

I've actually come up to a few conclusions after writing those sentences as to why I do the things I do, why I am the person I am, and how I need to make these things change. So... in essence I really am sabotaging myself. It hits on the same notes as yesterday's post. Is it self preservation or outright selfishness? I'm fairly certain you can't have one without the other but I'm certain you can have too much of one or both. I think I am starving myself from the sort of attention I really want (read: don't need) in some useless attempt to quell said desire for said attention. But in acknowledging the fact that I don't need this attention it has become quite clear to me that I do need it. As I said at the start of this post I feel like I should be creating things. I feel like I should be creating things that garner the sort of attention I am lacking. What is that? i don't know. I want to be appreciated for being familiar and special in a human and obsequious way. I want to be able to write things that mean something to everyone, but not tons to anyone. I would like to be able to express myself without fear of exposing a nerve and letting my subconscious bleed out. It's hard. Hard to break free of. Hard to explain, really. Hard nonetheless.

And that is why I didn't write.
I didn't write to keep the peace.
But I've missed it and I need it.
I suppose this is when I decide that each keystroke will save my life.

blah blah blog.

I keep not writing in here and it's not because I'm not committed. I think about not writing in here all of the time. Unfortunately I do this thing where instead of releasing my emotions I let them bottle up until I lash out at someone (usually someone at work). So, life updates.

Work has been interesting. It's clear to me that upward movement is at a standstill so all I can do for the time being is continue to be amazing and fantastic. It's uncomfortable to know that your talents and abilities would gain you acclaim, respect, and more responsibility if you were elsewhere... because there is the constant "what if I" brewing in the back of my head. On the other hand, my talents and my work has been noted and I know my place is one of value for now. SO if something comes along it may not be mine right off the bat, but I know I will get what I deserve eventually. The question is... how long is too long before eventually rears it's glorious head? Should I wait another two years? I don't think so. Two years is a long time to be bouncing back and forth in the same position... or is it? I don't know. I think sometimes I see the world in "what I deserve" terms and not "what I can get" terms. Either outlook is damning if you follow it 100% so I'm trying at a blend. I want to rock the boat just enough for people to know I'm out at sea but not enough to cast myself overboard. I wish the game of life would play out like chess and not like Go Fish. Without going into too much detail I will describe the last few weeks at work. I have spent more time saying the words" fuck you" "fuck" "fuck off" and "fuck yourself" than I have in all of my years on this tumultuous sphere combined. While I know those aren't the most sophistocated of words if you sandwich them between words like "Nevertheless", "Thusly", and "Consequently" it makes it sound a lot more warm and comfortable. It makes me feel scholarly. The usual back and forth, he said she said have been amplified to ridiculous heights. It's like 6th grade but with grown-up genitals and legal ability to drink. SO for the time being it is what it is; uncomfortably comfortable and unusually awkward. Thankfully I thrive in awkward situations. According to everyone I am exceedingly approachable. That means I am privy to all sorts of petty drama. Knowing things sometimes makes it easier to ignore things. While I know this is all a recipe for disaster, it will keep me entertained until it's time to arm myself with words and start to get stabby.

Other than that things are okay I suppose. I have been thinking a lot about my friends and the relationships I have or haven't maintained. Most days I feel like a bad friend. I'm terrible at keeping in contact with people. I almost never go out when I'm invited until somewhat recently. I've turned into somewhat of a homebody. I don't know... here is what I'm thinking. I can't decide if I'm really being a bad friend or of I'm afraid to extend myself because I don't want to take on the responsibility of maintaining strong friendships. Spending my waking hours bouncing work scenarios back and forth in my head and spending so much time making words and feelings work while I'm at work has left me with little emotional time to want to spend on other people. Does that make me a self preservationist or a shitty friend? I don't know. And while it doesn't work so much for other people right now it's working for me so I'm going to run with it. I've been putting myself out there a bit more recently though, so I feel good about where things may be going. I don't know that I should apologize for not being there for anyone right now. I suppose it's selfish and self righteous, but if I can't keep my own thoughts afloat I'd be hard pressed to float the thoughts of others.

Not too long ago we decided that it was time to start watching The Golden Girls religiously. It makes my butt happy.

My Life on The D-List also started up again last week. Fantastic. If ever I were to be someone's gay I'd want to belong to Kathy Griffin. Her hosting of the Bravo A-List awards was fantastic. That evil homosexual that screamed in peoples' faces and ran away from idiots also gave me a good giggle. Exciting.

Brad's birthday party at the Annex was fun. A female Danny DeVito circa Batman Returns threw herself at me and my friends Kathy and Jessica; she came complete with smock-like moo-moo and obnoxious cackle. She delighted me with tales of her obnoxious friend who forced herself on others and talked entirely too much. I was tempted to ask her if her friend was named Obnoxious Girl in Moo-Moo Talking to Me Right Now... but I didn't want to hurt her feelings. Shortly after that another bunch of friends (my fantastic boyfriend included) and I found ourselves talking to one another when we were thrown the offer of friendship by yet another bar loner. Jihan was her name. Her father is Middle-Eastern so she wouldn't dream of dating a Jewish man. It took all of the restraint I could muster up not to call her Jihad and hurl her into one of the twin towers. (Too soon?). Point being... I am an idiot magnet. Thank god I've got a swarm of amazing people to keep me company when I brave the outside world. It's too bad Staten Island throws up on NYC every Friday and Saturday night; it would be a much more pleasant place to frequent and maybe I wouldn't have so many Cosmos spilled all over my shirt.

Done and done.