I think I've (subconsciously!) convinced myself that my life with this big hole in it is a dream, and that any minute I'll wake up and everything will be okay. I'll be living the holiday bustle I'd planned; the wheels will be spinning toward the future I'd planned; I'll be happy, like I planned. Things will be like they were, only better. And these months of emptiness won't be anything at all.

And can you blame me? It happened once before. i.e. after months of separation things got back like they were, only better.

I thought I'd decided to let it go. And I truthfully believe that I did--I just managed to grab back on at the last second.

hmm.

Things will be better once the new year has passed...

Drama Queen Drive Home

a playlist. (and honestly I was more in the mood for it for my drive a couple weeks ago than I am now, I just hadn't quite finished it yet...)

1. "Homecoming," Hey Monday
I'm coming home, I wanna know, when all the leaves begin to fall, if I'm falling, falling apart for you

2. "You and I," Lady GaGa
It's been a long time since I came around, been a long time but I'm back in town, this time I'm not leaving without you

3. "...Baby One More Time," Britney Spears
my loneliness is killing me

4. "The Story of Us," Taylor Swift

I used to think that one day we'd tell the story of us, how we met and the sparks flew instantly

5. "I Cant Do it Alone," 3OH!3

'cause god damn it, I can't do it alone

6. "Kansas City," Sneaky Sound System
somebody in Kansas City loves me

7. "Rolling in the Deep," Adele
I can't help feeling we could have had it all

8. "Molasses," The Hush Sound

you say there's something better, but tonight you know you'll never find it

9. "The One that Got Away," Katy Perry

in another life, I could be your girl, we'd keep all our promises, be us against the world

10. "Super Bass," Nicki Minaj
excuse me, you're a hell of a guy*

11. "Take My Hand," The Cab ft. Cassadee from Hey Monday
this is ending, but we will get through eventually

12. "Over Thinking," Relient K
one more guy/girl cliche, I know now you're just in the way of me and my dream come true

13. "Cold Shoulders," Gold Motel

some things end without trying, we turn away without warning

14. "Littlest Things," Lily Allen
sometimes I wish we could just pretend, if only for one weekend

15. "Breakfast at Tiffany's," Deep Blue Something

it's plain to see we're over, and I hate when things are over when so much is left undone

16. "Inside Out," Britney Spears
even if we couldn't last forever, baby, you know what I want right now.

17. "Goodbye to You," Michelle Branch
I want you, but I'm not giving in this time.

*This song might seem a little out of place, but that lyric played over and over and over in my head during the 3-hour breakup conversation.

littlest things

in a weird place still, today. over the moon for [x]. I found myself trying to list reasons I should marry him, reasons we should be together long-term. the little things.

our chemistry was incredible. he doesn't drink. he's fine not having pets. he knows how to do/fix just about everything around the house, with a car, with a computer. he lives frugally. he understood the TS side of me, the side I hate to let anyone see. we had amazing rapport, and our senses of humor matched pretty well. his IQ was near mine, lol.

soooo many "pros!" how is that not enough? I guess all that shows we're compatible, and he'd be useful to keep around, but none of those things are "forever"-strength glue. things like shared beliefs, or shared dreams of the future. :\ the list above would last us a while, but without the backbone of dreams and beliefs, there'd be an endpoint. it would be finite.

Mom says now I know what to look for, and the right person will have all those pros plus the other things I need. but, every detail? the no booze, no pets? the disability? seems like a tall order.

note: from my journal, the day last week I couldn't write a sonnet. I don't know if I'm sad for realz or if I'm just mopey because I was mopey over t-giving last year and I tend to retrace my steps. 2 months out. I don't feel like I think about him a lot lot...well...relatively...

It needs to be said.

Adam--

Fuck you.

3 years ago you led me on, made me think I was special, made me completely fall for you, only to suddenly realize, DUH, I was just a rebound. I was 2nd choice.

Last winter you led me on, made me think I was special, made me completely fall for you, made me into something I thought I'd NEVER do to another woman, but I was still just 2nd choice.

You treated me horribly, but you know why I never unfriended you?

Adam, before the drama, we'd been friends for five fucking years. I didn't unfriend you because of the dorky Kirksville postcard you sent me in London, because of how you'd always ask my opinion about the latest Harry Potter, because of fucking MSA, Jesus! YOU'RE the one who still brought it up sometimes, who still held it as sacred. (Me, I'd fucking rather see the money go to--I don't know, anything remotely useful in an actual school!!) You were the only MSA person I was even remotely still in contact with, and as much as you hurt me, I didn't want to burn that bridge. I'd think that, even if 5 years of friendship before we pushed it too far doesn't mean anything to you, fucking MSA would.

I guess what I'm saying is, you had no right to unfriend me, since YOU are the one who repeatedly wronged ME. The immaturity of the action honestly bemuses me. What the fuck did I do to you? Not give you the chance to crawl back into our old pattern? Excuuuse me, princess. You've broken my heart countless times, but I say something slightly hurtful, and that's it?? Do you not see how douchey that is??? How much of a double standard? Fuck, makes me almost wanna send an informational facebook message to the girl you dated last winter--except, wait, I don't fucking go out of my way to hurt people.

Fuck you. I never would've chosen to burn the bridge. I respected the friendship we used to have.

I would never wish bad things, but I don't wish you well.

(the next morning: and, see, this is exactly why I refused to restart communication with him. he has WAY too much pull over my emotions.)

tik tok?

I can't stop ticking.

Plus, I've picked up a new one. Hand-wringing.

(Tics are exacerbated by stress, of course. But with the exception of maybe 2 incidents of coprolalia, my tics haven't waxed or waned* since I was a kid. Apparently my current emotional state is hitting me hard.)

You have no idea how distressing it is to not have control over what your hands are doing. To become aware of it, and stop yourself, but then the second you stop paying attention, they go right back to it. Or not stop yourself, because you know it'll just start up again, plus it's so calming to just release and let your body do what it needs to do...

*It's normal for tics to wax and wane, that is, one might disappear for a while and sometime later a new one might crop up. But for me it's been flapping, leg-bouncing, and silent palilalia (?) pretty consistently since, like, middle school.

http://www.tsa-usa.org/aMedical/whatists.html

Blogging in couplets

(muahaha to blogging in couplets. getting old yet? ;) )

Grieving again, except this time it's real.

I really can't figure out what I should feel.

We don't have what it takes to last fifty years--

I need to accept it in spite of my tears.

Rock bottom, I gave him a shot at what-if

he ignored it, 'though I reckon that he got my drift.

The difference between nostalgia and not-letting-go,

I couldn't figure out a year ago.

Accept it and move on...

accept it and move on.

there's no future for me down this road.

there's a greater story to be told.

I'm just so damn stubborn, I'm sure you all know.

once I decide something I can't let it go.

I'd made up my mind, no questions, no fuss.

What do I do when it's all in the dust?

"Just between you and me, getting older and more responsible is kind of horrible sometimes."

healing process

I haven't cried in 6 days.

But, I all but had an anxiety attack this afternoon. That was unusual.

so.

you win some, you lose some. i guess?

Write My Own

(First of all, my apologies to the internet. I have absolutely no creative writing training, and I didn't even begin to revise this. The rhyme and meter are pretty painful. Anyhow, may I present...)

I'll Write My Own Goddamn Poem

by Marie

The loss of the dream leaves nothing the same.

-Langston Hughes

16 months of history, 12 days later.

I'm okay, 'though I've felt better.
I just have the urge to hear your voice,
even if I know we made the right choice.

I broke my own heart, too, you know.

Last year I needed to take it slow.

This time we had no choice - 3 years!

Plenty of time, right, to conquer our fears.

I had you and you were everything;

I'd already plugged you into my dream.

You were nervous but you didn't complain -

I never considered you might not be game.

Kids, piano lessons, soccer practice, picket fence;

I couldn't wait for all that with my prince.

I love you and I know my dream was twofold:

to have kids, and have you, to have and to hold.

You were unsure, but so what, we had time

(not that my "plan" was that you'd change your mind...)

Easily avoided, but then not anymore;

you saw me with kids and you knew I'd want more.

I saw you see me and my hope disappeared.

You just don't want that, it was instantly clear.

Impasse achieved, what choice could we make?

Forsaking a dream would be a mistake.

Such different priorities cannot align,

yet I still want to think that you'll always be mine.

Recap

It's ironic, isn't it, that I spent my summer in love and so happy yet the only record of it here is the angsty buildup and now the tearful conclusion.

Why didn't I write?

(Hell, I barely wrote in my journal. I spent every second of spare-time-to-myself TALKING to him.)

But, let's see.
I didn't want to jinx it.
I never wanted to make a big deal out of it.
I didn't want to sound sappy.

I wish I'd written. Except for the Big Issue That Broke Us Up, which was pretty easily avoided (until it wasn't anymore), we were so happy.

We'd worked out the kinks of long-distance.
We talked soooo much.
He knew everything about my present-day life and was beginning to learn about my past, the things I thought I'd never tell a suitor.
He was starting to pick up on when my attention span was shot and I needed a change of pace. I could tell when he needed to be Aspergery for a while and tell me every detail about something, and even though I'd tease him, I loved it.
He indulged my whims (roller skating! ice cream every day!) and treated me like a princess. I made him breakfast in bed and sent him letters, trying to take care of him, too.
We played board games and he didn't get pissy when I turned into an evil, competitive, trash-talking superbitch.
I squeezed his hand as we confronted one of his biggest fears (an actual place, not anything metaphorical, lol). He'd hold me tight when I was feeling anxious.
I dreamed about spending the holidays with him, spending time with him and my family, spending time with him and my friends. And HIS family, and HIS friends.

I dreamed about spending much more than that with him.

I just never stopped to make sure it was his dream, too.

"Maybe we can be friends someday. It'll just take time."
"'Friends' seems kinda lame after...this."

comment

I have never felt so empty.

Blood

This post starts with an assumption. That assumption is that a 40-something man with no wedding ring who loves Lady Gaga, Glee, and "Total Eclipse of the Heart" is gay...right?

So I went to give blood today. Walking into the private room for the exam, the nurse (word choice?) escorting me commented upon my hat and immediately followed up with, "Did you see Lady Gaga on Dancing with the Stars last night??" I say no, and he clarifies that she wasn't performing, only judging, and starts to justify his love of Lady Gaga--I have to clarify that I do love her, I just don't watch tv. He segues to Glee. "Do you watch Glee? There was an episode devoted to her, and they all had costumes like her, and they sang, what song--" and is thrilled when I name Bad Romance. Back to DWTS--last night the contestants had to dance to "Total Eclipse of the Heart," which he LOVES, and I said, yeah, I really like the Glee cover. Glee? Well, did I know that some of the cast is leaving next year? And can you believe how much the actress they got to play Rachel's mom looks like her? I don't think he believes me when I say that I always thought Lea Michele was a dead ringer for Idina Menzel even before I ever watched the show. More on Lady Gaga, "she just stands out, you know, not like, who was that British singer who died, I'd never even heard of her." I agree that Gaga is certainly theatrical, but admit that Britney Spears will always be my favorite--and he agrees that she is a classic. By this point he's checked my iron and found me ineligible to donate, but sees me off with a grin.

Why does a gay man work at the blood center? Blood donation is very explicitly discriminatory. Despite the fact that HIV transmits through heterosexual contact more than anything else these days, men are not allowed to donate if they have had sexual contact with another man even once since 1977. (And a woman's not allowed to donate if, within the last year, she's slept with a man who's ever slept with a man).

Maybe he wants to contribute, and all he could do--without the option of donating--was get involved? That's pretty noble.

(Yeah, yeah, or maybe that's just where he could get a job, but don't crush my fantasy here.)

Things I have eaten today:

As of 4:28pm:

7:30am
2 dry waffles
Handful of pretzels

8:30am
Handful of peanut m&ms

8:45am
Peanut butter sandwich
Handful of pretzels

11:40am
Footlong Italian BMT sub
2.5 double chocolate cookies

3:30pm
Large quantity of peanut m&ms

...and this is how one gains five pounds in a day.

verbatim

(Please note the tag and the date.)

So sleepy.

I meet him at his place. He says, do you wanna get dessert? and I admit I've just eaten birthday cake. So we go inside, he gives me the grand tour. It's a lovely little studio. We sit on the couch and talk and talk and talk, and it's so easy. As time passes we ever so slowly move closer to each other. Our legs touch. Our shoulders brush against each other. He puts his hand on my thigh and our conversation halts. I try to stammer out my sentence. Our faces are very close. We share the tiniest of kisses, short and soft.

More slow motion. We kiss again, make out a little, and he pulls me on top of him. At this point we have the what are we doing/should we be doing this conversation. I don't remember what our reasons are but we determine it's not the worst idea.

Must sleep. More later. Remember:
-500 Days of Summer
-what do you expect from me

<3 a happy marie

Third-person ftw

She lays in bed, not yet trying to sleep. He's 200 miles and 9 months away but in her mind he's right beside her. Holding her. Whispering to her. Running his fingers over her skin, pausing only for--

She'll never have it back, but right now, it almost feels real.

Her phone beeps, receiving a text. Jolted out of her reverie, she says his name out loud, expectantly. You know, a Jane Eyre moment - she was thinking about him so hard he felt it and reached out to her.

Of course it's not him. She's disappointed that it's not a supernatural cupid, but how could it be? For the most part she subscribes to the idea of "the one," and she never felt it with him. Their love was quite good--amazing, even--but it wasn't supernatural. Divine.

She rolls to her side and he wraps his arms around her, intertwines his legs with hers, breathes "I love you" into her neck. --Her ability to pretend play died at puberty - where did this burst of imagination come from?

Alone, she turns off her lamp and attempts to sleep. 200 miles away, he has no idea that she aches for him; that she loves him still.

Wondering

Is there a point at which an obsessive feeling lasts long enough that the feeling must be legitimate? I feel like mere obsessions burn out pretty quickly.

a little bit possessive, little miss obsessive, can't get over it

On a related note: I have a facebook status all planned out for May 30. However, that's the day after we move, so A) we probably won't have internet access and B) I will probably be too busy to remember to get worked up enough to post it. what to dooooo! ;)

Unrealistic

I build myself up a box of fantasy, shutting out my instincts, shutting out common sense, shutting out advice from those who love me. I crawl in and shut the lid tightly and remain there in bliss for as long as I can. Completely delusional. Eventually reality creeps in and I wonder how I ever believed the lies I told myself, because now their falseness is obvious.

But I don't know how to pop the bubble. I can tell when I bury a thought that I'm building up the walls, but I like it. The box is a very comforting place for me. I can't stop.

I guess the best I can do is not drag anyone else in there with me. Breaking my own heart is nothing new. But I can't invite someone else to my fantasy...

And I feel like, "it's not that my instincts are saying 'no' and I'm ignoring it. It's that I can't tell WHAT my instincts are saying." But they said "no" for months and months and months. Why should something have changed? (Rhetorical question. I have all sorts of justification-type answers, of course.) And I don't know how to break down the walls to get a clear reading.

I just get so obsessive.
I always have.

love love love love love

but

surely not?

Three years

For the uninformed reader, my first kiss was three years ago today. And the whole experience ended up getting really ugly. Yes, I'm nearly 24. I was a late bloomer. lol.

(One year)

And it's so strange, because what happened three years ago is what completely killed off the fairytale, happy ending, true love part of me. I was the girl with zero experience with romance and Disney movie expectations. And that part--that believes that Prince Charming is out there, that not all guys are douchebags, that there's such thing as Mr. Right, and that he'll find me someday--it was instantly gone.

Yet I think I've come full circle?

To waiting for Prince Charming.

I've tried seeking things out on my own and it clearly hasn't worked out well for me.

I really hate to surrender my agency, but this might just be one of those things that's out of my control. Wherever you are, whenever it's right, you'll come out of nowhere and into my life*

And I can't believe I'm letting myself be so...passive. I don't want to be a princess in a tower waiting for a prince, no way.

And I can't believe I'm letting my expectations rise. How can this lead to anything but getting hurt?

*"Just Haven't Met You Yet" by Michael Buble--that's the kind of song I, the Marie I thought I am, HATES. Too cheesy, too unrealistic, too head-in-the-clouds. Yet me right now loves it and maybe shares the attitude to a slightly-less-cheesy degree.

and how thrilling that moment will be, when the prince of my dreams comes to me

Reading the ol' xanga

From June 27, 2008

'so i was telling a guy whom i know from MSA about my weekend and i used profanity at some point and between the details and my language he was like, "marie!!!! where's the girl i knew five years ago??" and I laughed out loud. she is looooong gone. ugh. i mean, i like me now a LOT better than me then...a lot lot...i'm a lot more interesting, i'm a better person in that i'm not super-judgmental, i actually have friends...but i never saw myself...here, i guess.'

Fiction

Her dream.

His tweet: "...plus I'm in love with someone else."
Her phone call: "Who?"
Scene from a movie, happy ending.

hard to believe that you're still around, almost forgot how you let me down

Reasons:

Reasons I will keep believing in fate/wishes/signs/what-have-you bullshit, #49:

When something I wish for with every 11:11/eyelash/birthday candle/etc. that seems fairly unlikely comes true.

But now I feel guilty, like I caused it.

haha...

thump, thump, clap

Found myself listening to Katy Perry's "ET" featuring Kanye West with my mother the other day. As the lyrics got explicit, I apologized, "uhh...I like the beat?" Mom replied, "It's just 'We Will Rock You!'"





thump, thump, clap

thump, thump, clap

It really is, to invoke those commercials from the turn of the century, "the saaaame thing!"

So, my question is, how come Katy's song tempts me to make a few well-placed phone calls or facebook messages to find myself some company, while Queen's is the least sexual thing I've ever heard? Is it just association? I mean, "We Will Rock You" = football games = not sexy. Or the lyrics? Queen's aren't sexy, but neither is Kanye's "first I'll disrobe you then imma probe you." Even Katy purring "a whole nother world," which horrifies me in theory, doesn't break the mood.

Fascinating...

Miscellaneous

I guess the fact that either of them can completely consume my mind is further proof that neither of them was, you know, "right" or whatever. NOT that any more was needed. Just, sometimes I need reminders.

In other news, I'm mixing up Shakespeare and Bronte in my mind. There's a quote from Jane Eyre that I LOVED back in the day, about not meaning to love somebody yet loving obsessively, something about "he made me love him without even looking at me," but all I can come up with is "I love you with so much of my heart that no part is left to protest," which is from Much Ado About Nothing.

Edit: Looked it up:
I had not intended to love him; the reader knows I had wrought hard to extirpate from my soul the germs of love there detected; and now, at the first renewed view of him, they spontaneously arrived, green and strong! He made me love him without looking at me.

Yeah...

Unexpected

Me: "I love tiny things!"
Mom: "Be careful saying that to your boyfriend."
...

Me + The Hush Sound

me: cutest video of the hush sound ever!
they are in an apple store!
bahaha
oh that's really freaky. i remember that performance - it was in denver WHILE I WAS IN FT COLLINS COLORADO. aaaaah #soclose
Ashley: awww! That's precious!
I'm sorry you missed out on seeing them.
two years ago.
me: thanks.
well i'd seen them 2 days before that performance.
so i guess it was okay.

Eve and the Apple

(A playlist about temptation.)

1. I Like It - Enrique Iglesias ft. Pitbull
your girlfriend's out of town and you're all alone...

2. Hold it Against Me - Britney Spears
you feel like paradise, and I need a vacation tonight

3. Dance With Me - The Old 97s

4. Love You Much Better - The Hush Sound
I can love you much better, if you can't see it you're blind

5. 7 Things - Miley Cyrus
you like me, you love her*

6. You Keep Me Hangin' On - Glee cast
let me get over you like you've gotten over me

7. Dirty Little Secret - All-American Rejects
I go around a time or two, just to waste my time with you

8. Don't Cha - Pussycat Dolls
don't you wish your girlfriend was hot like me?

9. Dirty Picture - Taio Cruz ft. Ke$ha
will you play along if I take a dirty picture?

10. Trouble for Me - Britney Spears
you and me were a disaster, and you're only a danger to me

11. Thnks Fr Th Mmrs - Fall Out Boy
thanks for the memories, even though they weren't so great

12. Folkin' Around - Panic at the Disco
allow me to exaggerate a memory or two

13. Take My Hand - The Cab ft. Cassadee from Hey Monday
this is ending, but we will get through eventually

14. He's a Tramp - Cast of Disney's On the Record
yes, even I have got it pretty bad

15. Girlfriend - Avril Lavigne
so come over here and tell me what I wanna hear.

16. Honey - The Hush Sound
Honey, honey, you were the first one...

17. Cuidate - La Oreja de Van Gogh
mis recuerdos de alguna cancion son hoy mi premio de consolacion...

*not the actual lyrics, but it's how I learned it back when I first heard it.

Swinging: A Retrospective

Beautiful brand-new spring day. This called for, of course, going to the park and pumping my legs off.

Which is not an uncommon occurence for me. I guess just not as common as it used to be...

I can't swing without reliving...

May 2008. Chasing a broken dream across Shawnee Mission, L and I searching for a park with two free swings, R painfully along for the ride.

August 2008. Bitching about the park's sand yet refusing an offer to be carried across it. Swinging for fun rather than for therapy. Returning the next day for the latter purpose.

Fall 2008. Swinging with A and L with me always singing "7 things." Just being Miley, pretty much. (Except for the time we went swinging hungover. BAD IDEA.)

your hair, your eyes, your old Levis, when we kiss I'm hypnotized

Thrilling me through

I am remarkably adept at lying to myself.

It's a talent, really.

I ride off into my delusional sunset (apologies to Sara Bareilles) and convince myself of whatever it is. I am perfectly aware of the truth*; I just refuse to acknowledge it, stubbornly clinging to my lovely little fiction.

*He doesn't love you, he's just passing the time

What can I say? It's nice while it lasts.

so he said, would it be all right if we just sat and talked for a little while,
if in exchange for your time i give you this smile?
and she said, that's okay, as long as you can make a promise not to break my little heart
and leave me all alone in the summer

Favorite Song: A Ridiculously Cheesy Metaphor

You know those old survey memes? (Maybe they're still around, it's just that my social circle's outgrown them.) They always ask for your favorite song. And for years I never had a favorite song.

I had songs I liked a lot. Songs that made me happy. I'd come up with something to answer the question.

But I had yet to encounter THE song.

The first time I heard The Hush Sound's "Honey" was a youtube video of a live performance of an early version of the song--not even the same lyrics that appear on the recording. Yet even with the imperfect first impression, my heart stirred and I've never been the same.



What I'm saying is, I never had a favorite song before I discovered "Honey." There were songs that were quite nice, songs I could tell myself were my favorite, but I knew in my heart something better was out there.

My metaphor is, of course, to romance. To the notion of finding "the one." You know you're supposed to have a favorite song (partner), and you find something that works for a while and that you quite like, but when you finally encounter that ONE song, you know in your heart that it's different from anything that came before and anything you'll ever encounter again. That it was worth the wait. That it was okay to go years without a favorite song, because nothing fits you more perfectly.

Appendix:
Evidence of my ongoing love affair with "Honey:"
January 2009
March 2009
June 2009
July 2009
November 2010
January 2011

Foreshadowing

Second weekend together with her new long-distance beau. They embrace on the couch in a borrowed living room. Her new favorite album, the soundtrack to her summer, fills the air. She teasingly sings along from time to time. In the middle of summer. He smiles silently.

Until the last track. He sings, I don't love you, I'm just passing the time.

He breaks up with her first thing in the morning.

6 months out

I never thought my willpower would last this whole time. I figured I'd cave at some point and eff everything up all over again--but feel so good (SO good) for those fleeting moments!

I mean, it's good that that didn't happen, because then I'd never EVER get over it...

I feel like I need a reward of some sort, lol. Because I honestly just always kinda figured that it would happen again sometime. And despite me even almost-trying over Thanksgiving, I've been quite well-behaved. Not self-destructive on any real level, beyond wallowing in drama from time to time, lol. And the natural consequences of being responsible are SO BORING lol.

I wish the wrong decision could've been right. It just would've made things so much EASIER.

But, I mean, I guess there's something better "out there." small consolation.

you gave me roses, and i left them there to die

In a nutshell

Augusten Burroughs regarding his brother (who wrote the passage I quote in my previous post):

"Asperger's Syndrome is on the Autism spectrum, so what that means is that he likes machines, he's real smart, and he's sorta rude."

Conversationally Handicapped

From Look Me in the Eye: My Life with Asperger's by John Elder Robison:

My conversational difficulties highlight a problem Aspergians face every day. A person with an obvious disability - for example, someone in a wheelchair - is treated compassionately because his handicap is obvious. No one turns to a guy in a wheelchair and says, "Quick! Let's run across the street!" And when he can't run across the street, no one says, "What's his problem?" They offer to help him across the street.

With me, though, there is no external sign that I am conversationally handicapped. So folks hear some conversational misstep and say, "What an arrogant jerk!" I look forward to the day when my handicap will afford me the same respect accorded to a guy in a wheelchair. And if the respect comes with a preferred parking space, I wouldn't turn it down.

The label I forget

I rarely write about TS, or talk about it. I don't even think about it much, really. Usually as soon as I notice I'm ticking I stop, and that's that.

While in the bathroom tonight getting ready for bed, I noticed that I was flapping pretty hard. Then, sitting on my bed after putting in my retainers, I realized my wrist was starting to get tired, I was flapping so hard. Do you know how much I tic, and how fast? (In case you didn't catch my tone there, the answers are A LOT and VERY.) I don't recall EVER getting sore from it before.

I wish I knew why I was ticking so hard. Then some mental post-it note appears, left over from the days of agonizing over calc homework, reminding me that stress makes it worse. I'm stressed? I don't think I'm stressed about anything. I pause and my mind lands on a sentence: it's when I feel that my surroundings are out of my control.

And that's it exactly. If my life strays a little from the routine, flapping...it comforts me greatly. Which is strange to say. That's one thing about TS I never really experience--ticking as relief of an urge--as a way to feel good. Because I'm not usually aware that I am ticking.

When I tic I surrender control of my body and my mind. It is pure chaos.

And it's dangerous:
I don't mind if someone sees me bounce or wave, but when I give myself over to it? Fingers a blur, wrists rotating bizarrely, arms held out rigidly ahead of me. Mouth wide open, tongue pressed against my teeth, eyes glazed over.
I don't want anyone to EVER see me like that.

I fall into a state where I'm not in control of my body and I am aware of nothing, completely in a trance. Yet in that double loss I am free. Free from being a control freak. Free from needing every question answered. Free from needing every detail planned. Free from bullshit stresses like homework. Free from the bigger stresses that don't go away, about my future or whatever.

Usually once I notice I'm ticking I stop; it's almost never lucid. Once my mind is back my body feels awkward and follows suit.

But tonight as my wrists started to cramp, I put my finger on a Truth about myself I had no idea I was missing. I'm finally seeing that Tourette's can mean something to me.



Edit: umm. More recent use of that mental post-it note here. As well as another reference to being sore. BUT STILL. hahaha.

Edit 2: is this interesting? I'm very self-conscious talking about it. Is this over-sharing in a cool, memoir-y kinda way or in a, oh my god she's a freak way? Please don't tell me the latter just to mess with me; I am extremely sensitive about this and sincerely want to know if it makes me sound like a freak.

February

I do love Valentine's Day and all things pink, but everything else about February I absolutely loathe.

The weather is shit.
It's plenty cold.
It seems like winter will NEVER END.

But mostly, I guess, it's what happened two years ago...

two years ago.

I don't even remember the date.

I remember EVERY important date. Take last summer: May 31, June 26, July 2, July 20, August 21.
Or 2008: July 23, August 9, August 19.

But I'd have to look up the February date to remember it. I guess it wasn't important to me.

I mean, I know it wasn't important. Not like that. Not like it's supposed to be.

He didn't even believe me...

When it's all said and done, though, he didn't hurt me. He didn't break my heart. Men who had done much less to me had done much more damage.

You know, he was my only Valentine. How fucked up is that?

stop, please, just let me go
Alejandro, just let me go

I Got Your Crazy

you put on quite a show, really had me going

new playlist time!
this one is called:

I Got Your Crazy
or, The Other Woman Scorned
(or, Angry Girl Playlist 2.0)

and it goes out to Ben, Mr. Honeywell, and anyone else who's ever made "the other woman" out of an honest woman only to screw her over.

---

Why Did I Ever Like You - Pink
(I'd still have all my hate for you intact even if I lost everything)

Fighter - Christina Aguilera
(made my skin a little bit thicker, makes me that much smarter)

Womanizer - Britney Spears
(you've got me going, you're oh so charming, but i can't do it)

Kiss N Tell - Ke$ha
(I can find someone way hotter, with a bigger......)

Don't Cha - Pussycat Dolls
(don't cha wish your girlfriend was a freak like me?)

Girlfriend - Avril Lavigne
(and hell yeah I'm the motherfucking princess)

Love You Much Better - The Hush Sound
(one day soon I'm gonna grab you by the collar and kiss you all I want)

Again Again - Lady Gaga
(you've got a lot, a lot of nerve coming here)

Smile - Lily Allen
(see you messed up my mental health, I was quite unwell)

7 Things - Miley Cyrus
(you like me, you love her*)

Never Again - Kelly Clarkson
(I would never wish bad things, but I don't wish you well.)

Take a Bow - Rihanna
(don't tell me you're sorry 'cause you're not)

---

*not the actual lyric, I realize, but it's how I learned it and how I hear it.

Voicemail

You have one voice message whose retention time is about to expire.

It's been telling me that for months; I'm willing to call its bluff at this point.

If it would delete itself, fine, whatever. I just can't bring myself to push the button.

I know it's 10 types of irrational, but...

what if no one ever says that to me again?

An Excerpt

from a telephone conversation with my mother.

Marie: "And I didn't spot Prince Charming in my class, which was too bad."
Mom: "I'd been wondering about that, actually."
Marie: "Well, there aren't any cute guys, at least...........well, not that I always go for the cute ones, I guess."
(At this point Ashley nods knowingly. Thanks.)
Marie: "...you there?"
Mom: "Just trying to think of what to say..."
Marie: "Tell me to hold out for a cute one!"
Mom: "Oh, I wouldn't say that. The cute ones are usually cocky. I mean, God rewarded ME, but..."

Vague but emo

(or vaguely emo?)

Words cannot describe what a total mindfuck I am going through.

To follow up on a theme in my recent posts, I've finally gotten last summer out of my head. Like, completely. I know I loved him, but I don't remember liking him. Not like I...

I did something remarkably stupid last night. I read through my journal from a few summers ago.

And for me it's pure deja vu. It's the exact same story. I'm reacting the exact same way.

How could I let that happen?

always turning back to you 'til you never let me down
loving your illusion, staring at a crooked ground
...you always let me down

Choose your own adventure!

Scene:
Interior small-but-well-decorated apartment, bathroom. A 20-something woman has just gotten out of the shower and is drying herself. The doorbell rings.

Exposition:
That's odd, she thinks to herself. I wasn't expecting company, and I haven't ordered a package. For the first moment she ignores the interruption, but then curiosity overcomes her. She opens the bathroom door and creeps to the peephole in the front door. Outside stands a man with a very large package.

Time to choose your own adventure!
If she hollers "just a minute!" and scrambles for a bathrobe, continue to paragraph A.
If she opens the door dripping wet, partially covered by her towel, continue to paragraph B.

A:
"Just a minute!" she shouts, even though he's two feet away from her and the door is not thick. He acknowledges, and she drops her towel and hurriedly replaces it with her cozy pink bathrobe. She cracks the door and peers out. He is embarrassed to find her in this state and bashfully asks, "Do you know the people who live in this apartment?", gesturing to the door behind him. She's never met the neighbors, but he asks if he can leave the package with her. Either at the prospect of letting a strange man into the apartment while she's only barely clothed, or because she really has no desire to interact with the neighbors, she demurs. "I'm sorry, I'd rather not. Could you take it to the office?" He takes no offense, but looks disappointed...at the prospect of transporting his package back down the stairs, surely.

B:
Securing the knot in her towel, she opens the door. The delivery man gives her a once-over, taking in her bare legs and shoulders, but remains firmly in control of the situation. "Excuse me, miss. I need you to sign for this package." He hands her the tablet and she sizes him up. "What are you going to do with that package?" "Well, miss, I need to move it into your apartment." "It looks pretty large. Do you need some help handling it?" "Don't worry, miss, I am fully capable of handling this package. Just tell me where you want it." She steps back and leads him to her bedroom, feeling her towel loosen around her chest as she takes each step. Barely clutching at the thin fabric, she tells him, "I want your package right here." "Well, miss, I can certainly arrange for that..."