Friends. Soccer coach. High school. Nostalgia. Fuck it. Is that cynical? Fuck it. Today I looked up all those fucks on FaceBook and added them. Why? Because I am lonely? Because I feel as though I am missing them? No. I should have said HELL NO? I was not popular in high school and all those people I added were. I just wanted to relate, but they are all married or have a fuckin’ kid and that is so far from what my life has become. Belton. Texas. fuck Texas. No offense to y’all out there. Texas sucks ass. See the rest of the world. Austin you are wonderful, don’t change but Texas (really) look around….
“I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you simply, without problems or pride: I love you in this way because I do not know any other way of loving but this, in which there is no I or you, so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand, so intimate that when I fall asleep your eyes close.
-Gabriel García Márquez”—
My expedition was fruitless. Tell me how is it that when I go to the mall with $0 I find the cutest clothes and when I am determined to actually spend money on myself, there are no cute clothes to be had. Damn. I was on a quest this evening to find the perfect white summer dress.
A haulter top Eyelet fabric Maybe with pockets
Nowhere. None. Zilch. Instead what I find are floor length “maxi” dresses. Who wears these? That is really a question. I would never wear a floor length jersey fabric strapless dress. 1.I don’t have big enough boobs to not show my legs or boobs big enough to hold up a floor length dress…I would be pulling that thing up every two seconds. 2.it is fucking hot! Why wear a dress that goes to the ground? 3.it looks lazy. It seems as if these women are looking in their closets and picking out the outfit closest to a moo-moo. Have some appriciation for what you wear. Look put together not lazy.
I try to ask my self is this classic? Can I wear this in a year(but that might just be because I am fruggal? Would Jackie Kennedy wear this? She is classic always has been always will be.
Man, I can’t catch a break. I am running around like a chicken with it’s head cut off. once I know that I am caught up more clients show up or ugh. Can I just be done right now. I just want to go home and start drinking. Maybe I might go for a bike ride. I don’t know. I feel so lazy lately. I am just so worn out. Maybe we can just rent a movie, have a glass of wine and go to bed early.
I have more to say but I don’t know what to talk about. my brain will not slow down yet I have nothing of importance to mention. except I had a shit day. yep, shit.
only one more day before I escape for the weekend. one more day. just one. one.
Am I the only one who is slightly confused with this whole 1990’s throw back fashion trend? What is even worse is that it is all the ugliness of the 90’s. Last night I actually saw a girl about my age wearing MOM JEANS. yes, MOM JEANS! I couldn’t believe my eyes. Why? How is it that I completely missed the fashion boat. not saying that I would want to be on this TITANIC of a fashion boat, but seriously. Who is going around telling 20-somethings to dress like their parents did when we were conceived.
There is this girl (I really shouldn’t say girl because she is 30-years-old) that he used to be really in to wears old lady dresses. you know the kind. the ones that look like someone made that dress out of a old couch. puke. these dresses she wears are pleated, tight around her hips, and go all the way down to her ankles. did she rob a Amish woman’s closet? oh, no…that is fashion. wow. I had no clue. I am still over here wearing a black trench coat because I thought the Matrix was the future not floral print. damn.
I bitch a lot. too much. what do i honestly have to bitch about? I have a great job. I have money in the bank. clothes in my closet. food in my stomach. I have a man who loves me and yet I complain. what ever I can find to bitch about you better believe I am 10 steps ahead of you about complaining about them. why? is it because I am an american and we expect everything to be perfect for us? everything handed to us on a silver platter? I wish. yet I sit here and type melodramatic paragraphs about how shit my life is. it’s not. i promise. i am doing well. I am getting through each day just looking forward to something exciting happening in the evening.
today i am looking forward to this weekend. we are going to Austin. i am going to show him my favorite town. a town i grew up in. i can take my skin off in austin and honestly feel free. let it all down and just breath. we will spend four days and three nights and i am so excited. we need this time. to think about our 1 year anniversary. to think about the future and the past. what is next for us and what are those next steps. i am looking forward to the world going silent and it is just my babe there.
I got out of school early. I called you. you answered. you hadn’t left yet. I asked if I could come. you said yes. we listened to This American Life. we smoked a cigarette as we neared your parents house. a ring of the door bell and then a warm greeting by a very hairy dog. sniffing and panting. muff. your mother’s voice. a hug. “we hug in this family.” your father. he looks like you. we make chit chat with the fam. off to shoot. construction zone. huge concrete walls stand alone. hot. back to the house. you want to swim. no bathing suit. your mother’s bathing suit? it works. i guess. we steal kisses in the pool. sushi. I have never eaten sushi. holding hands under the table. father’s day. good night. driving. Dallas. Lewis street. punch drunk love.
You wanted the “break” and I was forced to deal with it. Now you expect me not to resent you…I get it. You wanted to wash hands clean, get your shit together and then we could go back to being “us”. Yeah, great plan except now I am questioning why we should be “us” again. What’s the point anymore. I thought you loved me more than to pull that shit. I thought I was more to you. Now I just feel abandoned once again. Hey babe. Glad you could come over. Glad I could see you again. Glad that you have everything all figured out now. Where am I? Who am I? Why would anyone want to be with me?
Why is it that I feel as if everyone is going to read this. This is all me. For me. By me. No one else…and yet I hesitate to write on a public board. I don’t care what you think of me that is not why I pause. I pause because I want to say something meaningful and I know I probably won’t. even if I did who would read it? why would they read it. I am no one special. I am just a girl living in a world that is too big, in a city where I am suffocating….but aren’t we all.