Rut

I feel like life is just a rut that we all go through. The feeling has magnified somewhat since my best friend just broke up with the love of her life. He cheated. Good riddance. Now, we are both in a rut together, so it's not as bad. Is it good that Im alright with the fact that she's not as happy? Watching the two of them...invest in each other, listening to how she would fawn over him, as if all of my dreams were fulfilled by her, Im not ashamed to admit that I was jealous. But now, we are hanging out more, and I feel...oddly equal to her. I think the worst part is that I don't feel bad about my complacency. We are best friends. We have fun together, and now we are at the same stages again. Is happiness a zero sum game? I never thought it was. People meet, people are happy; good moods spread. But in this case, the fact that she was overly happy made me overly sad. Now, we seem even again. Ok, writing that made me feel like a horrible human being. (Note to self, I do have morals and feelings. This makes me feel happy. There I go again...feeling.)

Anyway, we are in a rut together. But, I'm good with this. It's better then being in a rut alone. Can it really be a rut if you're ok with being in it?

Ok, this is a horrible post. Too many questions, too self-indulging, and no story telling to boot. But what do I care, no one reads this.

I'll make it up to you, I swear. Maybe if someone actually reads this and comments, I will tell you about Josh, the man who is the sum of my physical interaction with men, or anyone for that matter...

Death of a Blog, Birth of a Nation

No, the dead blog is not mine. I’ll have you know that I have actually gotten two whole responses from readers (not the ‘s’ indicating plural!). The dead blog in question is that of The Bears Are Coming. I had been reading Andre since his last blog, and I was kinda sad to see him leave writing again so abruptly. Here’s to hoping for the future (I know it sounds pointless, but it’s the only thing I got). Also, I’ve added two new blog to my list of daily reads. Both of these bloggers commented, allowing me to find their own work. I have decided I am a fan, and as such, will be linking to them.

This weekend was fun. It was the 4th of July, and for all of those outside the US, that means fireworks and outdoor cooking to celebrate the birth of America. I went to my friend Nick’s house because he was having the “4th of July Cookout Extravagaza of Glitter and Amazingness!!!”. Yes, he really is that gay. The party was slow to start, but eventually did get going. I myself made a horrible fopah with friends that are a couple by suggesting that a mutual friend would be coming. Apparently, this mutual friend did something very heinous while this couple was broken up. So bad in fact, that I cannot be told via the convenient facebook e-mail. Apparently, it is so drama-licious I must be told in person.

I wish there were more gay guys at this party, or at least some better looking people. There was no one that I could just loose all hopes to. No one I could just drown in a sick combination of lust, jealousy, and resentment. This lack of the better people caused me to text Nick “Nick, you need better looking friends, not that Im a shallow person”. And Im not a shallow person. I was bored, and needed someone to distract me I guess. I think good looking people to me are like booze to an alcoholic. I crave it, want it, and then feel bad about myself after I get it. Clearly, this is not healthy behavior. But, what else am I to do?

To cap off the party, Nick took out the frozen Mojitos he had made. All 20 of us piled into cars and proceeded to go to the outskirts of the University’s campus, towards the agricultural farmlands, where the fields are. Here, we sat out, drinking Mojitos, waiting in the rain for the fireworks to start. It was quite nice, as the rum allowed my tongue to become unhitched, (aka, I made more sex jokes then usual). My personal favorite was when Nick was telling his boyfriend how to find us. He was, the road curves to the left. To which I responded “Just like Nick’s dick”. Yes, I am quite proud of this one.

The fireworks came despite the rain, and they looked quite nice. I was surprised that I liked them as much as I did. When I was really young, I hated fireworks, the colors of the explosions were nice, but I could never stand the loud bang of the explosions. That night, I just sat there, watching them. I was able to handle the booming, even as I felt it bounce around in my chest. I guess this is a sign that Im growing up? Hopefully, I won’t ever lose my child-like spirit. Not fully anyway.

As I sat there, looking at the skyline, hearing the explosions meant to mark the birth our country, I couldn’t help but think back. I thought back to our country’s invasion of Iraq. When all of the tv stations filmed the cities exploding as jets dropped bombs overhead. I kept trying to put myself there, maybe out of reverence for those poor citizens, maybe in hopes that I could warn my young middle school self not to be taken in by explosions cause those people never really hurt us, and these explosions are only going to make them hate us.

I love my country, I really do, but sometimes…we do some horrible things. I kept telling myself that the fireworks were about our country’s founding. We were a country made from war. The fireworks were about the rocket’s red glare and all that stuff. But, part of my kept making those fireworks about those people effected by that country we were celebrating.

In any event, the mojitos were good. The fireworks were nice. I’m actually quite glad that I went.

Abercrombie

I’ve never worn anything from Abercrombie & Fitch. It’s not that I don’t wear clothes from mass chains, I just don’t really like going to that store. I’ve only been in there once, and every time I pass the shop in the mall, the place just…I don’t know, intimidates me I guess. There it is, with black shutters where windows should be. I hear music blasting from the inside, and my mind immediately slips to a trip to the gay clubs in Philadelphia. It’s this that I don’t get. The front of the store just screams pretentious, snob, dismissive. I thought that store fronts were to show off what the style and brand of the clothing line was. How can I tell if like what they are selling id the literally bar themselves off? And the music, it’s so loud and obnoxious! Why would I want a headache from shopping? I know, just rattling this stuff off in my head makes me feel like an old woman, complaining about some punk kids blasting The Ting Tings (I really like that new single, the one form the iPod commercial, and the video blows my mind, no not in that way you deviants), but that store just intimidates me I guess. It is as if they are saying, “We are better then you, and we know it, so keep walking. You could even afford our clothes if you wanted them!” So of course, this breeds resentment. Am I the only one who feels this way? I know I have a unique perspective on many things, but I hope this isn’t one of them. Also, I’m hoping for readers, especially ones who like to comment back, so if you exist, let me know!

P.S. Who are Abercrombie & Fitch anyway? Whenever I think of them, Lewis & Clark come to my head, but I’m sure the accomplishments of Mr. Abercrombie & Mr. Fitch are much more impressive…

The Plan

I have a plan. I have a plan as to secure both my happiness and my power. Now you, the reader, may find it crazy, but that’s a risk I’m willing to take. I was on a train from New York back home to Delaware, when I saw this overly attractive, probably gay, guy. He walked on the train, expensive sunglasses resting on well-sculpted cheekbones, trendy hat atop his fashionably gelled blond hair. It was at this point that the man’s beauty stirred within me feelings of resentment, jealously, and lust. As I sat in my chair, lamenting over the genetic inequalities I was plagued with, (being a pale ginger), my mind drifted upon a quote made by the great London Preppy: "I look at his perfect face, his shaved blonde hair, his smooth white skin and realize that few things hurt me more than physical beauty." With this quote in mind, I happened to formula…The Plan. The Plan which, when completed with give me absolute power and make me happy, freed from the pain and power physical beauty can inflict. Here it is:

1.) Have gay friends as well as girl friends keep an eye out for unattractive gay men.

2.) Find an island. Capture it.

3.) Capture the aforementioned gay men, referred to from here on out as ‘uggos’.

4.) Populate the island with uggos.

The jist of this plan is that once the island is populated with uggos, I will be able to gain control, as I will be physically superior to the uggos. Who cares about who is best situated for the job? I, (through my own planning), will be the best looking person on the island, so all power will of course, rest with me. After I have begun ruling with an iron fist (not a copper, not cobalt, but an iron fist); I will enact the last critical part of my plan. In the period of finding the uggos, I will select one who is moderately attractive to be my lover and rule beside me. This part is so crucial because the person has to be attractive enough to rule beside me, but not so attractive so as to pose a threat to my power.

As for the part about finding the island…I was thinking about using the set of Lost in Hawaii. No construction would be needed, and I think I could clear everyone out by wearing a ghost costume and waving my arms around. It always worked on Scooby-Doo…
Ohh, and I know this is the first post, but don’t expect for this blog to be so planned out and classy. This post was elaborate because of the plan. In the future, (that is if anyone actually reads this blog) I plan on using words like ass and douche bag often because they are perfectly vulgar, and my thoughts will be much less constructed (is that a good or a bad thing?), and scornful of the beauty of others.

Ohh and I swear I’m not a creeper…well, not completely; I am a Gemini after all.