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| Oh goodness gracious.
I feel like I owe you an update. I have a cold, and I'm trying not to be a baby about it. But I want to quit being sick, among other unnecessary things (smoking, wasting time, etc.).
I also want to quit writing such whiny blogs. I reread a bunch of xanga entries of mine today and I seem like more of an ass than I am comfortable with. I would erase this little number and post nothing now, except that I really ought to post something. So fuck trying to avoid sounding sad. Besides, who are you, dear xanga, to judge whether my grief is righteous or childish?
Not unlike the rest of my fellow humans, I'd kill for some clarity right now. I am stuck between stations, and I don't like all this uncertainty and all these decisions to make and what not. Dare I shake my fist at the sky and demand comprehension? I guess I ought to think of my freedom and the choices I am getting/having to make as privileges, but my confusion (and the wide openness of it all) feels like more of a burden now than anything. I'm in a more awkward place than I've been in years, and it's weighing on me.
But I don't want to end on a sour note, because I am not sour. My life is not sour. My life is good. At the risk of being mistaken for an Armenian (double eww!), I am confident that I can work it out and make this awkwardness go away. I guess it's a matter of time and brain zaps and listening to good music (and publishing my issues on the interwebs) and visiting friends, of course.
Speaking of visitng people, I went to birmingham this past weekend with Brendan to see Jake. It was a good time. I mean to hit up my homies all over the dirty south, so prepare. The queue:
Hotlanta - Jason (Black Kids?)
Birmingham again - Jake (Ted Leo!)
Gainesville - Brent
Auburn - Lindsay
Chattanooga again - Adam and the gang
For all we know,
Bailey
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i found a bb pellet on the floor at work today, whilst sweeping. jud found some soil that was clearly not of the potting variety, but which he claimed was for potting, planting, and so on. of course the two finds were connected. we just knew it. we theorized that a gaggle of gangly rednecks had gotten mad at us for being queer (which we aren't [or are we?]) or some such nonsense, and had, in their blind rage, teleported piles of potting soil and some beebeez into our store, which rednecks all have excess of in their trucks (always), and which jud and i later swept up with great ease and speculation, but which the rednecks had probably thought was quite a jolly romp of a practical joke slash hate crime. i kept the bb for future remembering purposes.
P.S. Bren't coming tomorrow. woowooooo!
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| booyah, xanga.
i have already broken my promise to you. so perhaps we're on the rocks once again. although i must say, my dear xanga, that it seems the best relationships are the ones you don't completely understand (not that you could ever completely understand anything, but i think you catch my drift. you're not stupid, xanga). i think it's the same as april being the cruelest month, or something.
anyway, i had a good new year party. there were lots of delightful friends and it was refreshing to see them all, especially since i won't be seeing them this coming semester. i don't really know how easy it'll be to cope with being in crapville for so long. i suppose it's good for me. i hope so, at least. it's certainly an escape from ol' CovColl. i'm glad to be away from there.
i'm gonna grade papers tomorrow, and possibly highlight my hair(?). who knows. gosh that's boring. maybe kevin will put me on the schedule soon. i really can't wait to get back into the habit of having a job.
hmmmm.... http://www.enjoylifefoods.com/.../snickerdoodle.html
peace on earth,
bailey
p.s. you know that song that's like, "it starts in my toes and then i crinkle my nose..." and shit? oh my goodness. i royally cannot stand that me-forsaken song. i hate hate hate it. geez. i mean how annoyingly self-obsessive, and yet so needy of vicarious enjoyment from sappy mcsappersons world-wide can a song possibly be? that chick needs to get a grip (like aerosmith).
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| Dear Xanga,
I just love breaking promises. I'm now going to make you a promise, which I will someday break, because I love doing that:
Once this semester has ended and I'm back home again, I'm going to blog on you every day.
for all we know,
b
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Dear Xanga,
This is not a letter to you.
Dear cruel world,
This is not a letter to you either. This
is a letter to something bigger than you—something you can’t destroy. Cornered,
I will kick out at you, and you’ll kick back a lot fuckin' harder. But leave it
to me. I am a challenger of the unknown. You’re going down.
Dear hope,
I thought I
lost you. Welcome back. When the world runs out of lovers, we’ll still have
each other. Nothing’s gonna stop us now.
peanut,
butter
P.S. thanks must be extended to the New Pornographers, Starship, the Libertines, and Blackalicious for letting me borrow inspiration from their lyrics. If that's plagiarism, I don't know what's not.
P.P.S. Ashley and I had a Vietnam-themed party with the Katzenbrothers. It was delightful, but I definitely talked too much about myself. I think I do that when I'm nervous. No, I know I do that when I'm nervous. I need to learn how to quit, and how to ask about other people's lives instead of assuming they're super interested in mine. I always feel like such an insufferable asswipe-ish retard afterward, but I can never remember to quit while I'm at it. I'm bad at caring about people. So to those of my friends who read you, my dear(ish) xanga, I apologize. I want to care more about you, my friends. Thank you for putting up with my selfish self.
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