I broke up with my boyfriend. And all the reasons to break up piled up and kept piling, but I couldn't say them and I can't think of them right now. I broke up after one of the best nights we've ever had followed by one of the most petty fights in the morning. But it made me cry, again. And now I've made myself cry. I've made myself sick, my head hurts. I really care about him and I feel like shit. I picture myself calling him or running back to him telling him I change my mind, it was stupid, I do want it all and can handle it--and I know that is what he is waiting for. The more time that goes by and I don't make a move...(I can't make it.)...the more real it is.
It's the right thing for me. Just right now, at this moment, it is the worst.
music of the moment:
Shark in the Water by VV Brown
Sunday, May 23, 2010
Monday, May 17, 2010
in starbucks #2 (at lincoln road and pennsylvania avenue)
I had told ajna about this day. I was walking along Lincoln Road, high off of going to a casting for a Milanese agency.( Now, my highest highs come from anything to do with modeling; I've remodeled my mind.)
While I was walking, this kid asked if he could take me to lunch. I didn't realize he was speaking to me. I was on my way to do some school work at Starbucks, but a free meal to celebrate for myself was welcomed enough. So I agreed, and we walked together, looking for a place to snag a bite. He asked what I wanted and I said sushi or ceviche seemed perfect; Lincoln Road is strewn with places that have both. He pulled out an envelope, looked at the twenty inside, looked at me, and suggested coffee.
This was awkward. I do eat more than a side salad. Whatever.
I conceed that starbucks sounded good, that's where I was headed anyway but this whole thing was becoming unnecessary and rather painful. What the fuck had I been thinking?...accepting a free meal from some seemingly poorer (and cheaper) than me.
I ordered an grande iced black tea, unsweetened. He asked for the same, proudly (!) informing the barista he'd be paying for mine as well. While we were standing there, he was talking about how he hangs out with friends on Lincoln Road. We turned around and, in fact, one of his friends was sitting right behind us. In a wheelchair. With colored pencil portraits laid out on the table in front of him. I was introduced. The kid asked his friend if he would draw me and the friend said he can only draw from pictures, so I was asked if I had any pictures of myself.
I do! I do! A whole 9x12 bookful, sticking out of the top of my purse. But I said I had no pictures and I said I did not want is friend to draw me.
We sat down and struggled through a conversation. I struggled to hold onto a conversation I was trying to let go of. He struggled, well, because he struggled. I said I wanted to go to Milan and after a while (five minutes later?) he said something like, "Milan is in asia? Right?"
No! I'm not talking about the fucking Disney movie with the asian cartoon, dumb fuck. I'm talking about the city. I didn't actually say that but it ran through my mind while I delicately corrected him.
He apologized for being a bad conversationalist. I said everyone has moments of feeling like they said or did the wrong thing. It happens. It got quiet and I said I needed to start working. He asked me if he could sit there (Starbucks has a booth with tables in front. He was nextto me in the booth, one table over.) I said sure, if he wanted to continue sitting there, he could do that. I put on my headphones and tried to start working but it didn't work so after a couple minutes I took them off, turned to him, and asked him to leave because I felt awkward and couldn't start writing a paper with him just watching me.
He went outside and joined his all too familiar group of weird street cat friends. I got up and asked a girl to watch my computer and stuff while I went to the restroom. When I came back, Ajna called, and I told her about the kid and how weird and painful and akward it all was. About how I thought he was a good person but definitely missing something. I don't know what I said.
A little bit later, an old man sitting on the other side of me turned to me and asked me where I was from and if I'd watch his computer while he went outside to smoke. He then told me that he thought I had a good feeling about _________(I forgot the kids name by now, obviously.) He nodded his head reassuringly, gave me a wink, and said that he's said enough. He got up and walked out.
What? When does this happen? It felt like a weird conspiracy.The girl on the other side of old man shrugged her shoulders and gave me a sympathetic look.
I could't work. The kid came back in and gave me a starbucks card for some reason. I tried to give it back to him but eventually, kept it, used it, and shipped it off in my portfolio to Steve Ross. (He doesn't know the story.)
--------------------------------------------------------
It's been maybe a month since that happened. I've seen the kid a couple times and pretended I didn't see him and he hasn't come up to me since.
Today when I walked into the same starbucks the old man saw me and gave me a wry wink and smile again. It took me a second to realize this was that old man. He looks strikingly like the portrait of Walt Whitman I had just looked up for English.
Oh god.
I'm cold, sick of this stupid story, I dragged it on too long for myself to still be amused by it.
While I was walking, this kid asked if he could take me to lunch. I didn't realize he was speaking to me. I was on my way to do some school work at Starbucks, but a free meal to celebrate for myself was welcomed enough. So I agreed, and we walked together, looking for a place to snag a bite. He asked what I wanted and I said sushi or ceviche seemed perfect; Lincoln Road is strewn with places that have both. He pulled out an envelope, looked at the twenty inside, looked at me, and suggested coffee.
This was awkward. I do eat more than a side salad. Whatever.
I conceed that starbucks sounded good, that's where I was headed anyway but this whole thing was becoming unnecessary and rather painful. What the fuck had I been thinking?...accepting a free meal from some seemingly poorer (and cheaper) than me.
I ordered an grande iced black tea, unsweetened. He asked for the same, proudly (!) informing the barista he'd be paying for mine as well. While we were standing there, he was talking about how he hangs out with friends on Lincoln Road. We turned around and, in fact, one of his friends was sitting right behind us. In a wheelchair. With colored pencil portraits laid out on the table in front of him. I was introduced. The kid asked his friend if he would draw me and the friend said he can only draw from pictures, so I was asked if I had any pictures of myself.
I do! I do! A whole 9x12 bookful, sticking out of the top of my purse. But I said I had no pictures and I said I did not want is friend to draw me.
We sat down and struggled through a conversation. I struggled to hold onto a conversation I was trying to let go of. He struggled, well, because he struggled. I said I wanted to go to Milan and after a while (five minutes later?) he said something like, "Milan is in asia? Right?"
No! I'm not talking about the fucking Disney movie with the asian cartoon, dumb fuck. I'm talking about the city. I didn't actually say that but it ran through my mind while I delicately corrected him.
He apologized for being a bad conversationalist. I said everyone has moments of feeling like they said or did the wrong thing. It happens. It got quiet and I said I needed to start working. He asked me if he could sit there (Starbucks has a booth with tables in front. He was nextto me in the booth, one table over.) I said sure, if he wanted to continue sitting there, he could do that. I put on my headphones and tried to start working but it didn't work so after a couple minutes I took them off, turned to him, and asked him to leave because I felt awkward and couldn't start writing a paper with him just watching me.
He went outside and joined his all too familiar group of weird street cat friends. I got up and asked a girl to watch my computer and stuff while I went to the restroom. When I came back, Ajna called, and I told her about the kid and how weird and painful and akward it all was. About how I thought he was a good person but definitely missing something. I don't know what I said.
A little bit later, an old man sitting on the other side of me turned to me and asked me where I was from and if I'd watch his computer while he went outside to smoke. He then told me that he thought I had a good feeling about _________(I forgot the kids name by now, obviously.) He nodded his head reassuringly, gave me a wink, and said that he's said enough. He got up and walked out.
What? When does this happen? It felt like a weird conspiracy.The girl on the other side of old man shrugged her shoulders and gave me a sympathetic look.
I could't work. The kid came back in and gave me a starbucks card for some reason. I tried to give it back to him but eventually, kept it, used it, and shipped it off in my portfolio to Steve Ross. (He doesn't know the story.)
--------------------------------------------------------
It's been maybe a month since that happened. I've seen the kid a couple times and pretended I didn't see him and he hasn't come up to me since.
Today when I walked into the same starbucks the old man saw me and gave me a wry wink and smile again. It took me a second to realize this was that old man. He looks strikingly like the portrait of Walt Whitman I had just looked up for English.
I'm cold, sick of this stupid story, I dragged it on too long for myself to still be amused by it.
It started raining and I biked here. I just called my roommate Carlos; he's coming to pick me up. My hero!
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
Adios, always
I was working on re-designing our company logo on Thursday night at Andrew's when I received a Facebook chat from someone I never expected to hear from again. And I can't sum up what this person used to mean to me in a brief way. Yes, he was one of my best friends, we slept together one night, and I never heard from him again. But that doesn't really capture what went on. There was always this weird thing between us, somewhere between mutual respect and mutual attraction, but we never acted on it until that night we slept together. We used to drunk dial each other all the time; I got to know about his friends and he learned about mine through our vicarious experiences. And after we slept together, there was nothing. No texts, no e-mails, no phone calls. I drunk dialed him from Dallas one OU weekend because I ran into his ex-girlfriend, who I'm pretty sure hated me. I told him everything I ever wanted to say to him, and when I looked at my phone, we had been disconnected. Maybe he hung up, I'm not sure. But that was the end of it for me.
It might seem like I've been thinking about this guy constantly, but I haven't. Really. I think about a year and a half ago, after I wrote something to chronicle the evolution of our friendship, I just let go of all my hangups related to this guy.
I don't know if the concept of always can exist anymore-- for me, at least. Because I used to believe I would always feel like I had just been punched in the stomach if I thought of him, that I'd always have feelings for him. Not just him, but with others, too. And on Thursday, as we had a conversation that came two and a half years too late, I realized that I wasn't this tangled mess of a person. Talking to him didn't undo me. We were just two people who used to know each other, once. And with any other guys I thought I would care about forever, eventually, we'll one day be strangers, wondering what we ever had in common. Forgetting the inside jokes and shared experiences that made us so crazy about each other.
And so, with one Facebook conversation, I gave up my belief in always.
It might seem like I've been thinking about this guy constantly, but I haven't. Really. I think about a year and a half ago, after I wrote something to chronicle the evolution of our friendship, I just let go of all my hangups related to this guy.
I don't know if the concept of always can exist anymore-- for me, at least. Because I used to believe I would always feel like I had just been punched in the stomach if I thought of him, that I'd always have feelings for him. Not just him, but with others, too. And on Thursday, as we had a conversation that came two and a half years too late, I realized that I wasn't this tangled mess of a person. Talking to him didn't undo me. We were just two people who used to know each other, once. And with any other guys I thought I would care about forever, eventually, we'll one day be strangers, wondering what we ever had in common. Forgetting the inside jokes and shared experiences that made us so crazy about each other.
And so, with one Facebook conversation, I gave up my belief in always.
Sunday, May 9, 2010
A Letter in the Mail
[The following is a letter my mom got in the mail today on Mother's day. We also received a package for Adriana. Neither had a return address, but were postmarked from Oregon.]
5 May 2010
Dear Kristi,
Cindy and I are writing to you as Adriana's friends to apologize for not introducing ourselves to you. I am a little concerned that it might be making you uncomfortable for Adriana to be receiving gifts from two people who you have never met. I hope to eliminate any possible concern.
There is so much that I would love to tell you about how we came to know Adriana, and about how she helps me with my spiritual work. The matter is all entwined with some quite unconventional reality. It has been an amazing and lovely process for Cindy and myself. While we have never met Adriana in her physical body, we feel like we know her quite well, and our introduction started when I was guided to your book.
We are not intentionally being remote, or mysterious. I have asked Adriana twice, in the last two years, if I might send you a letter to explain a little about who we are, about the healing work that we do, and about our connection to Adriana. So far, Adriana is apparently still 'thinking about it.' I have the sense that she might still have a preference to keep her 'two lives' separate, and I feel that I must respect her preference.
Adriana is one of the greatest joys of my life. She speaks very lovingly of you. It is our great blessing to know her. I look forward to that possible day when we can all meet as dear friends.
In the meantime, I hope you will not mind too much if I send er a small gift once in a while.
Kindest regards,
John
5 May 2010
Dear Kristi,
Cindy and I are writing to you as Adriana's friends to apologize for not introducing ourselves to you. I am a little concerned that it might be making you uncomfortable for Adriana to be receiving gifts from two people who you have never met. I hope to eliminate any possible concern.
There is so much that I would love to tell you about how we came to know Adriana, and about how she helps me with my spiritual work. The matter is all entwined with some quite unconventional reality. It has been an amazing and lovely process for Cindy and myself. While we have never met Adriana in her physical body, we feel like we know her quite well, and our introduction started when I was guided to your book.
We are not intentionally being remote, or mysterious. I have asked Adriana twice, in the last two years, if I might send you a letter to explain a little about who we are, about the healing work that we do, and about our connection to Adriana. So far, Adriana is apparently still 'thinking about it.' I have the sense that she might still have a preference to keep her 'two lives' separate, and I feel that I must respect her preference.
Adriana is one of the greatest joys of my life. She speaks very lovingly of you. It is our great blessing to know her. I look forward to that possible day when we can all meet as dear friends.
In the meantime, I hope you will not mind too much if I send er a small gift once in a while.
Kindest regards,
John
Saturday, May 8, 2010
a bill
I watch Susan Boyle's audition on Britain's Got Talent over and over so I can cry.
I love it. The feeling I get from watching this frumpy old woman sing in such a way that I finally understand why standing ovations have been defined is simply sublime. Her face, her body, her everything is so awkward until she gives herself the permission to bellow. A permission that I am still shaking hands with.
I think I like this sweet nineteen year old hippie. He is beautiful. He is fun. And of course I can't look him in the eyes. Every time I even try I dart my eyes so far away I'm scared they are going to get stuck behind my eyeballs. Goodness, I feel like the nineteen year old. We have hung out the past two nights and tonight I could not tell if he was hinting to hang out or not, but I needed a night on my own...
He read to me last night as I fell asleep in his bed. That is as far as we got. I am the ultimate sex freak turned ultimate prude. I love it. It's amazing how much my mood can change my character. I would feel bad for anyone who does not understand that about me, but at the same time I hope it at least entertains them.
My mom told the waiters they could not drink at Indika anymore because they have the sloppy tendency to booze themselves up silly! Of course, they were angry. My mom said that any alcoholic beverage that goes out means a ticket must be printed. Of course, they were even angrier. - Not to mention, that any of them even has the respect to think about who actually pays for their silly habits. - I order a glass of wine. And voila - I got a bill at my own restaurant.
I got a bill at my own restaurant.
The shock of seeing a bill in front of me took twelve hours to truly sink in. I feel like i finally understand what shock truly means.I finally get it.
I love it. The feeling I get from watching this frumpy old woman sing in such a way that I finally understand why standing ovations have been defined is simply sublime. Her face, her body, her everything is so awkward until she gives herself the permission to bellow. A permission that I am still shaking hands with.
I think I like this sweet nineteen year old hippie. He is beautiful. He is fun. And of course I can't look him in the eyes. Every time I even try I dart my eyes so far away I'm scared they are going to get stuck behind my eyeballs. Goodness, I feel like the nineteen year old. We have hung out the past two nights and tonight I could not tell if he was hinting to hang out or not, but I needed a night on my own...
He read to me last night as I fell asleep in his bed. That is as far as we got. I am the ultimate sex freak turned ultimate prude. I love it. It's amazing how much my mood can change my character. I would feel bad for anyone who does not understand that about me, but at the same time I hope it at least entertains them.
My mom told the waiters they could not drink at Indika anymore because they have the sloppy tendency to booze themselves up silly! Of course, they were angry. My mom said that any alcoholic beverage that goes out means a ticket must be printed. Of course, they were even angrier. - Not to mention, that any of them even has the respect to think about who actually pays for their silly habits. - I order a glass of wine. And voila - I got a bill at my own restaurant.
I got a bill at my own restaurant.
The shock of seeing a bill in front of me took twelve hours to truly sink in. I feel like i finally understand what shock truly means.I finally get it.
Friday, May 7, 2010
I can't remember...
...the last time I was this happy.
I'm heading to grad school in September at the University of Chicago-- equal parts terror and thrill. This summer will be devoted to work (2x) and the Paramount's summer classic film series, a wonder in itself. I've started dating this one kid, Andrew, who makes me incomprehensibly joyful. And he makes me feel so good about myself, something I haven't experienced in a long time. We're going to keep it going for as long as we can, even after he leaves for a summer internship in DC and I leave for Chicago; I really don't want to let this go.
And fuck, I'm about a month behind in my classes and STILL haven't ordered my graduation announcements or cap and gown. But fuck it all, to hell with it. I'm a motherfucker with a shit-eating grin on my face, and it's an attainable perfection.
I've wondered what you guys have been up to-- it seems like I've just been here in this state of other-worldly bliss and contentment, waiting to share it with all of you.
I'm heading to grad school in September at the University of Chicago-- equal parts terror and thrill. This summer will be devoted to work (2x) and the Paramount's summer classic film series, a wonder in itself. I've started dating this one kid, Andrew, who makes me incomprehensibly joyful. And he makes me feel so good about myself, something I haven't experienced in a long time. We're going to keep it going for as long as we can, even after he leaves for a summer internship in DC and I leave for Chicago; I really don't want to let this go.
And fuck, I'm about a month behind in my classes and STILL haven't ordered my graduation announcements or cap and gown. But fuck it all, to hell with it. I'm a motherfucker with a shit-eating grin on my face, and it's an attainable perfection.
I've wondered what you guys have been up to-- it seems like I've just been here in this state of other-worldly bliss and contentment, waiting to share it with all of you.
Thursday, May 6, 2010
a few QUOTES!!!!!! from "Self-Reliance" by Ralph Waldo Emerson
" In every work of genius we recongize our own rejected throughts: they come back to us with certain alienated majesty."
"A man is relieved and gay when he has put his heart into his work and done his best; but what he has said or done otherwise, shall give him no peace. It is a deliverance which does not deliver."
"Nothing is at last sacred but the integrity of your own mind. Absolve you to yourself, and you shall have the suffrage of the world."
"A man is to carry himself in the presence of all opposition as if everything were titular and ephermeral but he."
"[...] truth is handsomer than the affection of love."
"With consistency a great soul has smply nothing to do. [...] To be great is to be misunderstood."
"We lie in the lap of immense intelligence, which makes us receivers of its truth and organs of its activity."
"Every man discriminates between the voluntary acts of his mind and his involuntary perceptions, and knows that to his involuntary perceptions a perfect faith is due. He may err in the expression of them, but he knows that these things are so, like day and night, not to be disputed."
"Whenever a mind is simple, and recieves a divine wisdom, old things pass away,--means, teachers, texts, temples fall; it lives now and absorbs past and future into the present hour."
"But your isolation must not be mechanical, but spiritual, that is, must be elevation. A times the whole world seems to be in conspiracy to importune you with emphatic trifles. Friends, client, child, sickness, fear, want, charity, all knock at once at thy closet door and say,--"Come out unto us." But keep thy state; come not into their confusion."
"We are afraidof truth, afraid of fortune, afraid of death, and afraid of each other."
"Our minds travel when our bodies are forced to stay at home.We imitate; and what is imitation but the travelling of the mind?"
"Nothing can bring you peace but yourself."
"A man is relieved and gay when he has put his heart into his work and done his best; but what he has said or done otherwise, shall give him no peace. It is a deliverance which does not deliver."
"Nothing is at last sacred but the integrity of your own mind. Absolve you to yourself, and you shall have the suffrage of the world."
"A man is to carry himself in the presence of all opposition as if everything were titular and ephermeral but he."
"[...] truth is handsomer than the affection of love."
"With consistency a great soul has smply nothing to do. [...] To be great is to be misunderstood."
"We lie in the lap of immense intelligence, which makes us receivers of its truth and organs of its activity."
"Every man discriminates between the voluntary acts of his mind and his involuntary perceptions, and knows that to his involuntary perceptions a perfect faith is due. He may err in the expression of them, but he knows that these things are so, like day and night, not to be disputed."
"Whenever a mind is simple, and recieves a divine wisdom, old things pass away,--means, teachers, texts, temples fall; it lives now and absorbs past and future into the present hour."
"But your isolation must not be mechanical, but spiritual, that is, must be elevation. A times the whole world seems to be in conspiracy to importune you with emphatic trifles. Friends, client, child, sickness, fear, want, charity, all knock at once at thy closet door and say,--"Come out unto us." But keep thy state; come not into their confusion."
"We are afraidof truth, afraid of fortune, afraid of death, and afraid of each other."
"Our minds travel when our bodies are forced to stay at home.We imitate; and what is imitation but the travelling of the mind?"
"Nothing can bring you peace but yourself."
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