sloanethepen
It only looks normal
I know everything about Sara, my roommate, and she knows barely anything about me. I know how she will react to things, what I need to say to her to get her to shut up or calm down. I know that she will try on four different outfits but then claim that she's not trying to look cute. She is fairly selfish, and doesn't really consider how her actions and/or words effect me. But at the same time I have a very strange bond with her. I know that I could talk to her about anything w/o being judged, and I think thats enough. I don't really have to tell her everything but knowing that she will listen is enough support for me. For her, on the other hand, she needs someone to unload on. I'm fine with it, I really am. The real problem is that she commits one of my greatest pet peeves, she asks for my advice, listens quietly, completely goes against it and then later when someone else says the exact same thing I do (even when its verbatim) she will see that they are right even though I told her the same thing before the fact. So I have ceased giving her advice, this provokes much whining from her, and her trying to act sincere when apologizing when I know she's not. The fact of the matter is, I don't know everything, but I know her and her personality better than anyone. Sometimes I wish she would just do something completely out of character to surprise me, it never happens.
No deep breaths - take a walk
Things have been interesting.
I went to D.C. for a College Media Conference, it was great, but it rained and I got a cold. Boo! But I learned a lot and I have a great deal of ideas for the Conglomerate.
Matt and Bogey finally, after 5 years of agonizing finally got together.... thank god.
Sara and I have both been going through some "things" we had a really long discussion the other night about pretty much everything. It was... not as helpful as you would think. Not that it was bad, but when Sara and I talk to each other its not like we're talking to a separate person, its more like we're talking to ourselves. But I don't feel like Sara is an extension of myself, she just.... ugh I don't know how to explain it.
Really, what I wanted to write about was how classes are going and whats going on in my life. But honestly whenever I log into this blog the only topic that comes to mind is Kip. You know Kip, my dead boyfriend, the one I moan about in this blog constantly. Not that anyone reads my blog, which honestly, knowing that makes it easier for me to write about it. Possibly someone could read it, but when they get two sentences in and recognize my angst, they probably don't become frequent visitors. So why post it at all? I don't know, maybe knowing that someone could possibly read it is comforting. In my really strange weird way. So what did I want to talk about? Oh yea my dead boyfriend....
It hurts, it aches, its like some one has set my entire body on fire. Sara said she worries about me, because I talk about him like he's still alive. I know he's dead, but it hurts even more to talk about him in past tense. Its not strange for him to not be standing physically next to me, our relationship was long distance for most of the last year. So him not being here, right now, looking at me isn't bizarre, there isn't a void where he should be, at least not physically. So I feel it, my brain registers it, but it still doesn't allow me to express it. Matt won't talk to me about it, and of everyone he's the one I need to talk to. He is dealing with Kip's death in a complete opposite way. He moved back into their old apartment, preserving Kip's room as though it was a shrine, as though he were a middle aged woman whose son died in Iraq. But in the end, Matt's going back to New York this summer, and I'm renting out the apartment. How will he respond if someone else is in that room? How will I respond? I honestly haven't thought about it. How do I feel about someone else being in that room. Honestly, it makes me nauseous to think someone else's clothes would be in that closet, someone else's shoes beneath the bed, that his guitar will no longer be leaning against the dresser, and that his notebook won't be sitting by the bed, the blue tile ashtray I bought for him will probably gone as well, the old t-shirts I sewed together to make curtains will be packed away and the poster of Bob Marley torn down the middle, where will it go? I cannot imagine someone else sleeping in that bed, fucking in that bed. It makes my stomach turn.
In the end, I don't know when I'll be over this, and its not like I'm making great lengths to help myself get over it either. Maybe its unhealthy, but god dammit, he was everything to me, let me hold on for just a while longer.
I went to D.C. for a College Media Conference, it was great, but it rained and I got a cold. Boo! But I learned a lot and I have a great deal of ideas for the Conglomerate.
Matt and Bogey finally, after 5 years of agonizing finally got together.... thank god.
Sara and I have both been going through some "things" we had a really long discussion the other night about pretty much everything. It was... not as helpful as you would think. Not that it was bad, but when Sara and I talk to each other its not like we're talking to a separate person, its more like we're talking to ourselves. But I don't feel like Sara is an extension of myself, she just.... ugh I don't know how to explain it.
Really, what I wanted to write about was how classes are going and whats going on in my life. But honestly whenever I log into this blog the only topic that comes to mind is Kip. You know Kip, my dead boyfriend, the one I moan about in this blog constantly. Not that anyone reads my blog, which honestly, knowing that makes it easier for me to write about it. Possibly someone could read it, but when they get two sentences in and recognize my angst, they probably don't become frequent visitors. So why post it at all? I don't know, maybe knowing that someone could possibly read it is comforting. In my really strange weird way. So what did I want to talk about? Oh yea my dead boyfriend....
It hurts, it aches, its like some one has set my entire body on fire. Sara said she worries about me, because I talk about him like he's still alive. I know he's dead, but it hurts even more to talk about him in past tense. Its not strange for him to not be standing physically next to me, our relationship was long distance for most of the last year. So him not being here, right now, looking at me isn't bizarre, there isn't a void where he should be, at least not physically. So I feel it, my brain registers it, but it still doesn't allow me to express it. Matt won't talk to me about it, and of everyone he's the one I need to talk to. He is dealing with Kip's death in a complete opposite way. He moved back into their old apartment, preserving Kip's room as though it was a shrine, as though he were a middle aged woman whose son died in Iraq. But in the end, Matt's going back to New York this summer, and I'm renting out the apartment. How will he respond if someone else is in that room? How will I respond? I honestly haven't thought about it. How do I feel about someone else being in that room. Honestly, it makes me nauseous to think someone else's clothes would be in that closet, someone else's shoes beneath the bed, that his guitar will no longer be leaning against the dresser, and that his notebook won't be sitting by the bed, the blue tile ashtray I bought for him will probably gone as well, the old t-shirts I sewed together to make curtains will be packed away and the poster of Bob Marley torn down the middle, where will it go? I cannot imagine someone else sleeping in that bed, fucking in that bed. It makes my stomach turn.
In the end, I don't know when I'll be over this, and its not like I'm making great lengths to help myself get over it either. Maybe its unhealthy, but god dammit, he was everything to me, let me hold on for just a while longer.
No deep breaths - take a walk
Matt called me around 10:00. As soon as I answered the phone I knew I had made a mistake. All he said was "Hey kid, whats up?" and I couldn't help it. I just started crying. I cried and I cried.... I bawled for 3 hours straight. I cried so hard I could barely breath, and I thought I was going to suffocate. It was everything and it was nothing. Everything that has happened.... Its been over a year since Kip died, and I really hadn't cried. I couldn't because I didn't want to believe it was truly possible for him to be gone. It took me so long... too long to get to this point. I cried. I finally cried.
Its so strange... I've lost so much, but somehow I still feel. My heart aches more that it did the day he died. Someone please.... help me. I'm breaking.
Its so strange... I've lost so much, but somehow I still feel. My heart aches more that it did the day he died. Someone please.... help me. I'm breaking.
No deep breaths - take a walk
Reflecting on my past with someone I barely know
Sooooooooooooo....
I am missing Karma-Fest. I am sad. Someone will hopefully play Tangerine in my absence, dedicated to my inability to ever attend any of our functions. Its funny, when I first met Jack Blue at the ML it took him awhile to realize who I was. It was shocking to me that apparently he had heard of me through word of mouth. He said "Oh, fuck! You're Cowboy!" Haha. I was a little taken aback. "What?" was all I could reply. He laughed for a second and then looked at me dead serious. He said "You are one of the leaders of the revolution!" I burst out laughing. What the fuck is he talking about was all I could think. First off, I am too apathetic to ever be a revolutionary. Second, who would ever follow me? I am not that reliable of a person. Third, I am unaware of any revolution occuring around me, I mean there might be one, but I am completely unawares. He laughed too, and he explained that he was talking about Karma-Fest, and how he went last year (a year when I couldn't attend since I am now residing 5 hours away without reliable transportation or a plethora of time). He told me about how he heard all about me, obviously from some of my older acquaintances who still call me Cowboy. You see none of my close friends really refer to me as Cowboy anymore, I guess because they realize I do not resemble that person in any way anymore. So he went on talking about how people told him about how I was one of the people who thought up Karma-fest, and how it evolved. He also went on to recount to me some of my escapades from my former life. Of course all of these retellings were extremely exaggerated. He told me one story that I'm fairly certain is all fiction, but then again I may just not remember it because I was drunk at the time. He told me one story that was so eerie, it was as though he had been there.
One night sometime in October, I remember because we had been previously discussing our plans for Halloween and I think Voodoo fest was also coming up. It was Matt and I sitting in his apartment. Kip had gone on a date, so apparently we were on one of our numerous breaks. So we were sitting there talking, smoking, probably drinking when English Joe and Felix (his then girlfriend) walked in. I must explain at this point that Matt and Kip's apartment was the hub of our group, people came and went as though they lived there. I was probably the most frequent visitor, and also the one who was constantly running off randomly (because I realized that my parents might miss my absence). Anyway, these two walk in and tell us that a bunch of the guys were at the Square hanging out and that we should go. So I pushed aside my apprehensions (being that it was a school night and my mom would definitely be coming home from work wondering where I was) and grabbed my jacket and followed them to the Square. When we got there, we realized that English Joe was not referring to the "guys" we had thought. We had assumed he meant our friends, but instead he meant a group of guys that had been antagonizing me for the past two months since I had apparently insulted one of them at a party (of course I do not recall this, but who cares) so I was not one really to pass up a free drink, and I bravely followed EJ and Felix to the table and sat down right next to the guy that I had apparently insulted. Everyone was quiet. And I could feel the tension so I knew I had to somehow find a way to make them loosen up and have someone buy me a drink. Well the guy (whose name I still can't remember but I do know he is serving in Iraq at the moment) just looked at me and said. "Well if it isn't the bitch of the fags" You see many people associated me with gay guys because I was always with Matt, who was the biggest whore in the city it seemed, and so I was always at gay clubs and hanging out with strange people. I could tell at this comment Matt was really uncomforatble, he's the type that gets really nervous around ignorant people and never defends himself. So I just turned to the guy and looked at him for a minute, it wasn't a glare or anything really threatening, i guess it was more calculating. I then said blandly "I think I'm going to cut my hair." Of course the guy was taken aback, he was hoping to goad me and get me to retaliate. I continued "What do you think? I mean I'm not that attractive in the first place, so I mean chopping off my hair can't really do much damage can it?" He was really confused now, I mean wasn't it his job to insult me? I went on even further "I mean I want to change somehow but I really don't like the idea of dying it, so I think I'll just chop it off." Then I got up and walked over to Jen's office (Jen was the manager of the square, which was a coffee shop thats no longer open) and asked her for a pair of scissors. I walked back to the table and pulled my hair back into a ponytail and handed him the scissors. "Cut it please" I said very sweetly. He took the scissors from me and just stared at me. I turned my back to him and said "Get on with it" I could feel his confusion. And I was looking at his friends like, well is he going to cut it? They were all flabbergasted and looking at me like I had lost my mind. And of course EJ and Felix were trying very hard not to laugh. Matt looked horrified, I think he thought I really had lost my mind. But we all sat there for what seemed like forever until I heard the guy put the scissors on the table. I turned back to him and then I finally let my glare out on him. I put all of my energy into that look, I mean I honestly had nothing against the guy, but I still let him have it. I didn't say anything to him. I picked up the scissors and returned them to Jen. And went to the counter. Matt joined me and we had a couple of drinks and bought two or three cakes and walked out. Of course, the guy at the counter was a friend of ours and he billed the "guys" for it. By the weekend everyone in our "circle" had heard about the little encounter. When I went to some random party everyone was really shocked because I had actually gone and gotten my hair cut to a nice little bob. The guy was there and he looked at me, with what Matt called "the fear of all the little Chinese babies about to be cast off" (of course this makes no sense, but I remembered it only because it was so absurd). So I got two drinks and went over to the guy and gave him the second. He thanked me for it. And he asked me "How did you know I wouldn't cut your hair?" and I smiled at him and said "Oh, well I was really planning on you cutting it, but I guess I miscalculated your courage. Enjoy the party." I got up and left the party.
As Jack Blue was retelling me that story I was flabbergasted, half because he retold it very precisely and better than I just did, half because I could not for the life of me figure out how I had the courage to ever have done anything like that. I also don't understand how it was such an amazing story. I was just being weird. But I do remember walking out of the Square very dissapointed that he hadn't cut my hair, so I went to the salon the next day and got it cut. Jack Blue went on to tell me about how people talk about me, he mentioned many names I know, others I don't. But it was very strange, as though I was some sort of celebrity and I told English Joe this later. He laughed and said "Are you serious? You guys were like the cool kids of the circle, especially you and Kip." I asked him "What do you mean? Its not like we really hung out with a lot of people, I mean people were always coming and going from Matt's apartment, but we never really socialized that exstensively." He laughed again "Thats was what made you guys cool I guess." Its strange to look back on that time, especially with someone who was on the outside of my small group, and even more with someone who has experienced it completely through heresay.
In the end it all made me think about Kip. As almost everything does. I thought about how, if people really talk about us this way... he will never be forgotten. I know I will never forget him, and neither will our close friends, but to know that people that barely knew us looked at us that way, it gives me hope, that somehow he lives on. Everyone knew that Kip was the glue of our group, while Matt was more of the ringleader, and I was almost like second in command, Kip was really what held us together. Even when we broke up, he still kept us all together. Sadly, though people might remember us as the "cool ones" we will never be there again. Because he is gone. Not only because he was our glue, but because imitating those days are so painful.
Eventually I will get over this, get over him. But I'm not ready. I'm not ready to let him go, I really did love him, more than anything. I still do. I always will. He was everything, my light, my savior. He taught me so much about myself, he's the reason I'm not that girl anymore, because helped me realize I didn't have to pull stunts like that one with the scissors to prove who I was. I just had to know that I am who I am. Unfortunately as soon as I learned this I realized I have no idea who I really am, who I want to strive to be, or where I want to end up in this life. In so many ways he was my savior, but in just as many he was the gateway to this pain I feel I may never shake, the pain of realizing all the mistakes you've made, the pain of understanding how wrong you have been in the past, the pain of finally seeing how much you have hurt other people, and most of all the pain of being alone.
I am missing Karma-Fest. I am sad. Someone will hopefully play Tangerine in my absence, dedicated to my inability to ever attend any of our functions. Its funny, when I first met Jack Blue at the ML it took him awhile to realize who I was. It was shocking to me that apparently he had heard of me through word of mouth. He said "Oh, fuck! You're Cowboy!" Haha. I was a little taken aback. "What?" was all I could reply. He laughed for a second and then looked at me dead serious. He said "You are one of the leaders of the revolution!" I burst out laughing. What the fuck is he talking about was all I could think. First off, I am too apathetic to ever be a revolutionary. Second, who would ever follow me? I am not that reliable of a person. Third, I am unaware of any revolution occuring around me, I mean there might be one, but I am completely unawares. He laughed too, and he explained that he was talking about Karma-Fest, and how he went last year (a year when I couldn't attend since I am now residing 5 hours away without reliable transportation or a plethora of time). He told me about how he heard all about me, obviously from some of my older acquaintances who still call me Cowboy. You see none of my close friends really refer to me as Cowboy anymore, I guess because they realize I do not resemble that person in any way anymore. So he went on talking about how people told him about how I was one of the people who thought up Karma-fest, and how it evolved. He also went on to recount to me some of my escapades from my former life. Of course all of these retellings were extremely exaggerated. He told me one story that I'm fairly certain is all fiction, but then again I may just not remember it because I was drunk at the time. He told me one story that was so eerie, it was as though he had been there.
One night sometime in October, I remember because we had been previously discussing our plans for Halloween and I think Voodoo fest was also coming up. It was Matt and I sitting in his apartment. Kip had gone on a date, so apparently we were on one of our numerous breaks. So we were sitting there talking, smoking, probably drinking when English Joe and Felix (his then girlfriend) walked in. I must explain at this point that Matt and Kip's apartment was the hub of our group, people came and went as though they lived there. I was probably the most frequent visitor, and also the one who was constantly running off randomly (because I realized that my parents might miss my absence). Anyway, these two walk in and tell us that a bunch of the guys were at the Square hanging out and that we should go. So I pushed aside my apprehensions (being that it was a school night and my mom would definitely be coming home from work wondering where I was) and grabbed my jacket and followed them to the Square. When we got there, we realized that English Joe was not referring to the "guys" we had thought. We had assumed he meant our friends, but instead he meant a group of guys that had been antagonizing me for the past two months since I had apparently insulted one of them at a party (of course I do not recall this, but who cares) so I was not one really to pass up a free drink, and I bravely followed EJ and Felix to the table and sat down right next to the guy that I had apparently insulted. Everyone was quiet. And I could feel the tension so I knew I had to somehow find a way to make them loosen up and have someone buy me a drink. Well the guy (whose name I still can't remember but I do know he is serving in Iraq at the moment) just looked at me and said. "Well if it isn't the bitch of the fags" You see many people associated me with gay guys because I was always with Matt, who was the biggest whore in the city it seemed, and so I was always at gay clubs and hanging out with strange people. I could tell at this comment Matt was really uncomforatble, he's the type that gets really nervous around ignorant people and never defends himself. So I just turned to the guy and looked at him for a minute, it wasn't a glare or anything really threatening, i guess it was more calculating. I then said blandly "I think I'm going to cut my hair." Of course the guy was taken aback, he was hoping to goad me and get me to retaliate. I continued "What do you think? I mean I'm not that attractive in the first place, so I mean chopping off my hair can't really do much damage can it?" He was really confused now, I mean wasn't it his job to insult me? I went on even further "I mean I want to change somehow but I really don't like the idea of dying it, so I think I'll just chop it off." Then I got up and walked over to Jen's office (Jen was the manager of the square, which was a coffee shop thats no longer open) and asked her for a pair of scissors. I walked back to the table and pulled my hair back into a ponytail and handed him the scissors. "Cut it please" I said very sweetly. He took the scissors from me and just stared at me. I turned my back to him and said "Get on with it" I could feel his confusion. And I was looking at his friends like, well is he going to cut it? They were all flabbergasted and looking at me like I had lost my mind. And of course EJ and Felix were trying very hard not to laugh. Matt looked horrified, I think he thought I really had lost my mind. But we all sat there for what seemed like forever until I heard the guy put the scissors on the table. I turned back to him and then I finally let my glare out on him. I put all of my energy into that look, I mean I honestly had nothing against the guy, but I still let him have it. I didn't say anything to him. I picked up the scissors and returned them to Jen. And went to the counter. Matt joined me and we had a couple of drinks and bought two or three cakes and walked out. Of course, the guy at the counter was a friend of ours and he billed the "guys" for it. By the weekend everyone in our "circle" had heard about the little encounter. When I went to some random party everyone was really shocked because I had actually gone and gotten my hair cut to a nice little bob. The guy was there and he looked at me, with what Matt called "the fear of all the little Chinese babies about to be cast off" (of course this makes no sense, but I remembered it only because it was so absurd). So I got two drinks and went over to the guy and gave him the second. He thanked me for it. And he asked me "How did you know I wouldn't cut your hair?" and I smiled at him and said "Oh, well I was really planning on you cutting it, but I guess I miscalculated your courage. Enjoy the party." I got up and left the party.
As Jack Blue was retelling me that story I was flabbergasted, half because he retold it very precisely and better than I just did, half because I could not for the life of me figure out how I had the courage to ever have done anything like that. I also don't understand how it was such an amazing story. I was just being weird. But I do remember walking out of the Square very dissapointed that he hadn't cut my hair, so I went to the salon the next day and got it cut. Jack Blue went on to tell me about how people talk about me, he mentioned many names I know, others I don't. But it was very strange, as though I was some sort of celebrity and I told English Joe this later. He laughed and said "Are you serious? You guys were like the cool kids of the circle, especially you and Kip." I asked him "What do you mean? Its not like we really hung out with a lot of people, I mean people were always coming and going from Matt's apartment, but we never really socialized that exstensively." He laughed again "Thats was what made you guys cool I guess." Its strange to look back on that time, especially with someone who was on the outside of my small group, and even more with someone who has experienced it completely through heresay.
In the end it all made me think about Kip. As almost everything does. I thought about how, if people really talk about us this way... he will never be forgotten. I know I will never forget him, and neither will our close friends, but to know that people that barely knew us looked at us that way, it gives me hope, that somehow he lives on. Everyone knew that Kip was the glue of our group, while Matt was more of the ringleader, and I was almost like second in command, Kip was really what held us together. Even when we broke up, he still kept us all together. Sadly, though people might remember us as the "cool ones" we will never be there again. Because he is gone. Not only because he was our glue, but because imitating those days are so painful.
Eventually I will get over this, get over him. But I'm not ready. I'm not ready to let him go, I really did love him, more than anything. I still do. I always will. He was everything, my light, my savior. He taught me so much about myself, he's the reason I'm not that girl anymore, because helped me realize I didn't have to pull stunts like that one with the scissors to prove who I was. I just had to know that I am who I am. Unfortunately as soon as I learned this I realized I have no idea who I really am, who I want to strive to be, or where I want to end up in this life. In so many ways he was my savior, but in just as many he was the gateway to this pain I feel I may never shake, the pain of realizing all the mistakes you've made, the pain of understanding how wrong you have been in the past, the pain of finally seeing how much you have hurt other people, and most of all the pain of being alone.
No deep breaths - take a walk
respectSo my summer is coming to a rapid close. Its been a fairly uneventful summer, thank god. In the end I find myself thankful for not being at Hardtner this summer. I would have missed out on a lot. I have decided to take back my former promise to myself that I would apply for staff next summer. One summer was enough. And if this summer has taught me anything its that once a Hardtner counselour, always a Hardtner counselor.
In other news I only have a handful of days left at this "job" I have been interning for Senator David Vitter at his Alexandria office. Crazy. Crazy, because I do not agree with 90% of his policies. Crazy because the second week I was here a scandal broke loose (if you don't know what I'm talking about then you need to move out from under the rock). Crazy because I was here for completely selfish reasons (i.e. a resume booster) and have been praised constantly by my superiors, including Vitter himself, for helping out so much. But now I find myself in a very peculiar situation. As I said before I do not agree with 90% of Vitter's platform. I was offended to no end when he made that comment about Gay Marriage being as much of a danger to Louisiana as Katrina was to New Orleans. I was outraged, offended, disgusted, and overall just pissed that he could make such a statement. People DIED in New Orleans, families lost their houses, and my city will never be fully the same again. How in the world is it the same as gay marriage? How can you justify that to me? Yet at the same time, from working here this summer I can't help but understand that he truly cares about New Orleans, its his home too. Yesterday he was here in Alexandria having an intimate get together with some of Alexandria's finest. And at one point he sat down at my table and was sitting right across from me. Honestly, we did not have any touching moment or conversation that gave me some insight into him, no we didn't even look at each other really, he was deeply immersed in a conversation about Immigration with the two men on either side of him. Yet, while he was talking I caught a glimpse of a bracelet on his right wrist. Something that I assume one of his children made for him because it was made of plastic beads and string. And I couldn't help but feel a little relieved. Not because I found his humanity on his wrist or because I saw his devotion to his family, no for a much more silly reason. You see I constantly wear friendship bracelets made last summer by my campers. And I refuse to take them off, not for this job, not for my cousins wedding, nothing. Not until they are destroyed and no longer capable of holding their place on my wrist will I ever remove them. And so, I felt relieved because if the Senator could wear it surely I could. But honestly, I did feel a lot warmer toward him for this, for showing his love so openly, showing that glimpse of humanity. I still do not agree with him on most of his opinions, but I respect him, and I wish him the best of luck.
No deep breaths - take a walk
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