This is what my life has been reduced to

the truth can't hurt you it's just like the dark?

See, the problem with this is I'm afraid of the dark Always have been. The dark was put there as a hiding place for werewolves to strategize their attack moves on innocent and unsuspecting sleeping/walking girls. Um, not sleepwalking girls. That is a separate concern, although no less valid than werewolf attacks on those who are conscious. The fear of werewolves has always been in my head ever since I can remember. I *still* sometimes have to sleep with a nightlight. At twenty-seven years old, this is understandably embarrassing. So don't tell anyone, imaginary blog fans. k? k. It wasn't until I had another person in my bed for an extended period of time that I learned to get comfortable without the sleeping light, mostly out of necessity. Because the boyfriend was not exactly cool with leaving the hall light on and the door ajar and I couldn't bring myself to admit that I actually owned a legit nightlight. But now that I am sleeping alone again I have to whip it out on particularly shadowy evenings. You know, when the trees are knocking on the windows and the wind is rattling the doorknob? All right I live in a basement so the only part of a tree capable of rattling my windows would be the root system and as far as I know root systems don't do much rattling.

I think I have arrived at a destination so far away from the point of this entry that I am tempted to just wrap it up right here and call this one Crazy Werewolf-fearing Lady Blog. But I wont. I wanted to address a somewhat serious topic that I learned a valuable lesson about today. A lesson about trust and honesty. So I'm a little  sorry for leading with the I'm a crazy lady who fears mythical creatures bit. My bad. I will allow you this moment to switch gears. Serious business time people. Ready? Good.

I have, previous to tonight, been ridiculously dishonest to pretty much everyone close to me. I was lying to my roommate, ex boyfriend, old roommate, childhood pal; all of whom I considered to be very close friends. The one person I was actually honest with was crafting a web of lies along side mine. I thought our webs were supposed to be identical because we wanted to protect each other. I was spinning and spinning and my tangled mess of deception kept getting bigger and bigger until it was all I could see. I was suffocating in my web but I kept spinning, desperate to save myself and my partner in crime. I thought it I could just find a way to tuck the ends of my hirsute creation into itself then I could stop spinning, stop lying, and cozy up inside with my dishonest pal. This, of course, was fantasy. The reality of the situation was that everyone of the aforementioned close friends could see through my frantic attempts at deceiving them. And they were pissed.

What was my pal up to during all of this? My flocculent mass of dishonesty had grown so large that I could no longer see what he was doing. Turns out, he had a very different strategy. The iniquitous motherfucker was slicing off bits of his crooked labyrinth and doling it out, piece by piece, to anyone who mattered. And his version read like a smear campaign against me. I was lying to everyone except a liar, who I foolishly trusted. And he did what liars do: continued to lie. Threw me under a bus. So there I was, pancake flat and covered in bus tracks. I knew I had reached the end of the line. And I came clean. I poured out my story, laid every terrible thing I did out on the table and apologized profusely. It was an incredible experience to unravel that mass of deceit and throw it away from myself. Not to pretend it didn't exist or that I wasn't the creator, but to acknowledge my monster and declare out loud that I would no longer be feeding it. I knew I was potentially losing everyone I cared about but that feeling of complete and total honesty is something I wish I could bottle up and carry with me everywhere. Metaphors aside, that is exactly what I am trying to do. I am starting over with everyone I know, and, even though we may never be where we once were with each other, I am a better person for it.


EDIT: I just realized you fuckers probably have no clue what I am talking about, and I promised to stop doing that. So, here's the situation: I slept with my best guy friend, who also happened to be my best girl friend's ex boyfriend, and who I had secretly been coveting since long before the two of them even met. And he turned out the be a bit of a dick bag. And she is still one of my favorite people.

informative title

I don't want to do my biology homework and I've already read the oatmeal so hello again blog. I don't even really have anything terribly interesting to say but I suppose that is becoming a theme now so you're very likely used to it.

You know what I have started doing? I have started reading the bible, that is what I have started doing. I know right. The reason I have started reading the bible is this: Most of the time my only job is to stand behind a podium and tear in half tiny pieces of paper with barcodes and numbers on them. I give the numbered half away and keep the barcoded half and stick it in a tiny-piece-of-paper sized opening on my podium that for some reason everyone always thinks is trash, like I would for some reason be standing in front of the worlds smallest garbage can where you dispose of your items two inches at a time. I think I am getting away from the point. What was the point? Oh yes, the holy book of god. Well, sometimes I have very few tiny pieces of paper to tear in half and my life gets really boring really fast. The only activities I can partake in are ones I can sneak to my podium in my pocket and since I don't have a tamagotchi I had to settle for tiny books. I have exactly two tiny books: the new testament and a dictionary, and I've already burned through the dictionary.

I feel sort of like I'm trying to dive into Twilight during Breaking Dawn or something though. I didn't read the old testament so I don't know why everyone hates the Pharisees or even what a Pharisee is and why everyone on Earth deserves to die and why does a lamb get to order everyone around.

I should get a tomagotchi.

Pretty sure I might be failing at being a real person.

Here I am, staring at the ass end of my twenties, and what am I filling my ears with? Well, imagined readers of my blog, I'll tell you what I am filling my ears with. I'm listening to Lipgloss and Letdown. I know this is probably not something that I should be etching into the relative permanence of the internet. However, I am wondering if other mid-to-late twenty year olds are having this same problem. For those of you who are unaware, or young, Lipgloss and Letdown is a song released in 2003 by the band A Static Lullaby. And my problem is this: Where does all this music go after supposed adulthood is expected to have been reached? Is it acceptable to still enjoy laughably emotional angst ballads provided they were written while I was still under the umbrella of relative youth? Or should I have long since discarded them for more sophisticated fare? The thing is, I do not want to discard them. I love that song. I'm not done with Kane Hodder. I still appreciate Vaux. I like to throw From Autumn to Ashes on the ipod and bebop around. And goddammit I still love Thursday. I do not want to give up this collection of screaming emotional word vomit. And it's just this genre. I still listen to Death Cab. And At The Drive In. And Coheed. I do not feel like I should be hiding these aspects of my musical taste. And if I grew up on Fleet Foxes I wouldn't even be here. Here being in this potential quandary...anyway...you know what though? Fleet Foxes are pretty damn boring. Okay? I know, I know everyone loooooves Fleet Foxes but really what do they even have. Seriously. But I digress. The point! The point is that it is this single particular genre of music that one is expected to outgrow. And...I haven't? Does this mean I am not an adult? Or just really terrible at being an adult? I mean, I don't listen to Til My Eyes Bleed or whatever the scene kids are into these days. I'm not actively seeking out *new* bands, although it would be an easy feat since they'll all have names like Kisses Like a Thousand Shards of Glass or Sins of Your Blood Stained Party Dress or whatever. See, even I want to make fun of them! I know they are ridiculous. I know that they are overly metaphorical and trite. But I cannot let them go. Sigh.

this is terrifying

I used to blog on myspace. and livejournal. Okay, confession time: I still blog on livejournal. You will likely never see these thoughts. Livejournal is my own private electronic padlocked diary where I still spew all of my bluthering emo kid...well, emotions. I whine about boys and why don't they like me the way I want them to and you know what sometimes I even write poems. Poems! Nobody writes poems anymore. Do you write poems? Even if you do I bet you answered with an over-confident NO because nobody writes poems anymore. It's embarrassing. And yet I cannot let my livejournal go. I log in every once in a while when I'm feeling particularly angsty and rattle off a few lines. This makes me feel better. like coke! except, you know, nerdy and mock-inducing instead of "cool." You know what else? I use metaphors. I use a shit ton of fucking metaphors. I am that abstract fucker you hate because you do not understand what the twisting vines of shattered nightmares are supposed to represent and am I talking about your face or is that someone else's face buried under a thousand imperfect snowflakes of lust. The thing is, it's not even anyone's face! The face is my poor, dusty heart you broke by not returning my text message or perhaps I stubbed my toe that day. I have reread things I posted years ago and haven't a clue wtf I meant by any of it. And yet I persist. Because it makes me feel better. Let me have this. I need it. or else it will come barreling through the streets over to here like the out of control blob of wayward emotions that it is. See? The metaphors are starting already. Okay technically that is a simile but I feel my original point is still valid.


Be happy it is there instead of here! YOU'RE WELCOME.