In the past month I have been shafted by four FOUR different guys...
that's one a week!
At first this was a painful realization, but then I was like, remember all the free food you got. Remember the free drinks. RIP summer of love 2012.

GOALS

By the end of September
at least one overnight hike roughly 30 miles
By the end of October
submit essay to literary journal
By the end of November
submit application to teach abroad
By the end of December
finish your zine for fuck's sake
By the end of January
have functional freelance writing website up to pander
By the end of February
significant progress in half marathon training

just some stuff

Me, on a first date.

I set down my drink.

"Well, I'd say sharks are in my top five fears, but also my top three interests..."

I really know how to charm men as long as they are as weird as me.

I've learned some worrisome things about myself lately-- I will always, always, always, want whichever boy in my life is being shittiest to me at the moment. That's how my heart works.

i will make you love me again

by making you a mixed tape with all the best iron maiden songs on it

In light of certain circumstances- stressful relationships, drinking too much, heinous period aches and the fact that I slept four hours last night- I was a bit pissier than usual at work today. I have known for a long time that I am not entirely well suited to customer service, although my predisposition towards passive aggression serves me well in this industry because I can be extremely shitty to people, they pick up on it, and I don't even have to say one entirely rude comment.

This week I have been banned from choosing Pandora stations to listen to after offending customers and coworkers with the following stations: Heavy Metal, Summer Hits of the 90s, Rihanna, and Black Sabbath. This was a blow to my morale. In addition this geriatric asshole named Dick (short for Dickhead) hits on my like crazy, I had to plunge a toilet twice, and some guy called me a bitch for refusing to make him a frappe, like, two minutes before we were going to close.

Fuck you and your frappe.

Here's some etiquette for coffee shop patrons:

Don't even come in 10 or 15 minutes before close

If you must, don't order sandwiches, frappes, milkshakes, etc.

Just because you tip well does not mean you are owed conversation

Don't look at your barista's boobs

Leave hella good tips

Don't be a bastard, let the employees rock out to Anthrax, OK? Don't complain.

Yet, there was a comfort in that, and in one another we succeeded in fulfilling the needs of that moment- a lean summer spent half drunk, half dressed, in front of an open window off old Route 66.

A line from a piece of creative nonfiction that I am unabashedly spending all of my time working on lately. This is probably so evocative only to me because I lived it, but it struck me as a perfect, romantic summation of a recent relationship.

Also: TGIF, ACAB, FTW, DTF

your life is your life
don’t let it be clubbed into dank submission.
be on the watch.
there are ways out.
there is a light somewhere.
it may not be much light but
it beats the darkness.
be on the watch.
the gods will offer you chances.
know them.
take them.
you can’t beat death but
you can beat death in life, sometimes.
and the more often you learn to do it,
the more light there will be.
your life is your life.
know it while you have it.
you are marvelous
the gods wait to delight
in you.

Charles Bukowski

Today my sister and I read each other poetry over the phone. It was wonderful and powerful and I'm glad there are people in this world that I am close enough with that we can share these words that mean so much to us, even if they are not our own. 

"I enjoy bitching way more than trying"

also, seriously... why am I a teenage boy?

In a recent effort to disengage myself from many people's lives and in order to maintain my sanity, I have largely parted ways with my online communities- primarily facebook and tumblr. Especially tumblr. Yet, I find myself desperately wanting to talk to the world, on the off chance that someone important stumbles upon the unimportant things I have to say. This ancient blog of mine seems to be the perfect channel for this need. It is safe from most everyone who would even want to read it, and somehow knowing that a few people have this stupid URL tucked somewhere in their memory provides enough purpose for me to begin to use it again.

Today started with a hangover. I dreamed of drinking water, almond milk, coconut water, everything. When I got to work I had a headache, and their were two juggalos sitting at the bar drinking iced coffee. "Whoop whooop" was on loop in my head ever since. It was slow and I forgot a book to read. I had to plunge a toilet.

I met a boy at this party and flirted with him all night. I'm not even sure why, because I'm not attracted to him. I guess I was flattered by the fact that he remembered seeing me many times before, told me where and when, and I had never even noticed him. It provided some kind of solace for me in an arena that I have recently felt devastated in. I had drank 2? 3? God help me, maybe 4? 16 ounce Tecates. I remember vividly telling him to come visit me at the coffee shop. Oh, and he did. He did. The many men who visit me at the coffee shop are always of interest to my normie coworkers and geriatric customers. I hate having to explain the details of these relationships to them. 

When I got home I immediately walked to the hospital to visit my friend in the psychiatric ward.

Everywhere there were signs posted about securing your person and making sure the doors don't stay open too long when you're buzzed in, because everyone is a flight risk. I saw him and he could barely muster a smile. He's not any better than he was a week ago, only much more medicated. He didn't even know how long he had been locked away in there. He said he couldn't read, couldn't sleep, because he couldn't concentrate. He could barely carry on a conversation, but what could we say anyway?

I feel selfish for even mentioning the emotional impact that trying to navigate these circumstances with him has made on me. I feel traumatized by it. I'm so terrified that he's not going to come back. I need support, but I have nowhere to get it these days.

A particularly sensitive subject on my mind is, always, romantic relationships. It seems to me that every man I have ever dated has been deeply committed to gaining my affection, and the moment he has it, disengaging. I feel sabotaged. Did I do something to you in order to deserve this, dickhead? Have I behaved this way to a partner before? I'm trying to untangle why this has happened to me, or what led up to it... Did I show him my snuggie sack fleece suit too soon? Did I reveal too much about my history with another person? I know I wasn't weird sexually. He was the weird one. Yet, I think this is ultimately unproductive. At the risk of referencing a stupid book and an even stupider movie, I guess its possible that, after all, he's just not that into me.

Despite all that I stayed in listening to the radio for his interview, tried to tell myself he sounded so stupid when he talked about thrash (but he didn't). I decided to pull on my running shoes (thanks mom!) and do a quick two miles before I settled in. As I tightened my shoelaces I realized that there was something moving in there. Of course there was a cockroach in my shoe. There fucking would be. I ran what used to be my regular route, winding through my neighborhood. I haven't run on the road in awhile, and I realized how much harder on the knees and ankles concrete is. After about the first half mile my iPod died, so I ran the remainder of the the route without music, something I have not done in a long while. (An aside: I've been listening to hella Title Fight on any run these days). It was refreshing and I made the distance easily, so much more easily than I ever did last November when I took that course regularly. I can't believe I've identified as a runner for nearly a year now. I aspire for distance rather than speed, and I've already clocked well over 20 miles this week.

Bruce Lee said some shit about not desiring an easily life, but the strength to endure a hard one. Yeah.

some things I am looking for in a man:

• -doesn't own a smart phone
•  -is not in a band (or is, but doesn't egoize that shit) 
•  -has evil shit tattooed all over his body 
•  -is not a dick