The Truck is Still in the Parking Lot

Apparently my reactions are too much for Jen. But I mean, really. What did she expect when she told me that she and LaGrotta share the same birthday? Did she really expect me to be calm? NO. I FREAKED OUT, DAMMIT.

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Please tell me I'm not right. Please tell me you feel something. I mean, I hurt you didn't I? You can't just let that pass by without feeling something, right? There has to be some sort of reaction--please, God, there has to be.

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Is this my catalyst? If it is, it fits. It makes sense. And as long as it makes sense, I'm okay with it. I thought about that at breakfast today. You work like clockwork, so as I was reaping the benefits, I pondered if I really want to transition like this. From one state of living to the next, degrading one connection and gaining infinitely more. The truth is that I don't really know, but I hate the stagnant place I am in currently. And even though I don't really know if you are someone I will really get, it seems worth a shot.

Is that horrible?

Is it bad that I rarely feel truly connected to those who feel connected to me? It's like I have this switch in my brain. The switch turns off all superfluous elements to my feeling to someone and allows me say what I truly feel--at the root--without restraint. Once everything is switched back, I don't regret a word because it's true. It was clear and true.

Family is the exception, of course. Nothing is above family.

So as you chatted at breakfast, I decided that I am not horrible. I decided that I am okay with this transition. I decided that I am okay with my catalyst.

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Now can something good happen, Jesus?

Memento

I just watched Memento. Amazing, simply amazing.

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I am trying SO HARD not to hate you. It's unfair to feel that way about you. When I am near you, I cannot look at you. The mere mentioning of you, your voice, anything at all makes me want to scream. I am trying though. I try to remember that you weren't always an entity of distaste, but all that remains now is distaste. I almost feel sorry that a time is nearing when I won't need you at all. Because then you will hardly ever see me. I, on the other hand, cannot wait.

THIS TRAPPED FEELING NEEDS TO GO AWAY.

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Why?

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Correction: 7:07 p.m.

And

This is just further proof that you are too far gone for me to reach out to.

This is just further proof that you don't know what feeling is.

This is just further proof that you would rather remain silent than feel.

This is just further proof that shielding yourself means more to you than being yourself.

FOR THE LAST TIME:

This is my blog. It's about me and my feelings, however fleeting they may be.

Today Was A Wash

The Good:

-Awesome timing equating to awesome victory. And a "Hello."

-An A on my first college English paper.

-French Onion Soup

-Godfather II

The Bad:

-Pointless FYE

-Falling asleep in Philosophy of Religion

-Having to find a way to watch Godfather II with internet out campus wide.

-Not being able to watch the last ten minutes.

Stuff In Between:

-Walking a lot

-Getting complimented on my hair

-Getting called on in English

-Getting two waters at lunch

-Chris re-adding me on FB

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I suppose it really could be just a matter of time.

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My favorite part of our talk last night was when you asked: "And how are you and ______?" like it actually meant something.

Speaking of Cups of Coffee

I finally bought coffee for my coffeemaker. However, I forgot filters, sugar, creamer, and a coffee cup. I am so organized.

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You know the activities section on Facebook? I'm thinking of adding "Routinely getting my ass kicked by the French language." I think that is pretty fitting and accurate.

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Dear Melissa Etheridge,

I understand that you are a singer/songwriter lesbian, but why, oh why, did you have to write the song Fearless Love? I mean, isn't that TOO typical? It's going to become one of those songs that I hate and love at the same time, but mostly hate simply because it is SO gay. Do you understand my predicament?

Hoping you are well,

Natalie Bridgmon

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I see you, I hear you.

But I hate you.

I don't want to.

But I do.

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Support and acceptance are nothing if you don't possess the controversial entity.

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I'm ready to fall asleep knowing that I will wake up and you will be there, waiting for me outside. I won't have to try to find you. I won't have to guess about your day, I can simply ask. I'm ready to stop working at this and start working at that. At you and I.

This "you" really should be "anyone", but that doesn't read as well.

Cups of Coffee

So much for practicing. Of course, that doesn't mean the trip to the Scheidegger (sp?) was a total loss. That was unexpected, but very welcome. Consequently, however, that now meant that me walking around with music and mallets in hand had to somehow make myself not look like a meandering idiot. I think I pulled it off....I am going back at noonish.

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Jen is great, btw. Really great.

"Any Way You Want It, That's The Way You Need It!"

So....I've pretty much decided that if anything comes from this annoying feeling, the order in which I would dispense information would be as follows: Elizabeth, Jen, Ash (with maybe like a day/hour in between), then a week later Kim, the three weeks after that Colleen (and maybe Matthew). I think that's the safest bet.

Breakfast was a fail today. But what does it really matter? I'm too freaking shy (I know, right? Me, shy. I don't know how it happened, but it did.) to say anything anyway.

I'm trying to figure out why I want this to happen. Yes, you are attractive. You seem funny and educated, but...really? I first saw you and thought "yes" before I realized anything else, knew anything else. But alas, I am getting way too attached, way too immersed. If only I could take a step back.

It's confusing, however, that some people can just have great things plop in their laps only after merely voicing their wants. Could it truly be that simple? How do I get in that lane? That lane where you get what you want after minimum effort and want? Where seas part and mountains move simply to account for your needs. I only need to be that way for, like, a month. Promise.

I guess I just want something good to happen and stay happening for once in my life.

How horrible of me to say. It's not like my life is a perpetual series of sad events. I'm just lacking in some to share life with. It's kinda weighing heavy on me.

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I found out that Walt Whitman spoke with a thick Brooklyn accent. He just got a million times better, in my opinion.

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Correction: 2:32 p.m.

I'm pretty sure I've lost any remaining vestige of sanity I had.

Time to take a huge step back, chill out, and approach with caution.

Midnights

I was there a little early. I thought almost too early. But it was barely 9 and you work like clockwork - you love clockwork - and there you were. I'm willing to bet you left no later than 9:15.

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I really have to stop.

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My dog had a mental breakdown, so instead of working on my paper, I came home. Poor guy. My paper's over last year's stuff anyway. Haha!

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I'm with you, there, Freddie Mercury.

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It will be interesting to see where I am a month from now.