Pride comes easy with 450,000 of your peers and peeps around. The Monday after it generally isn't quite so easy.
Blogs are great. You can come and go, people care and they don't. So casual, like gym memberships for people who join just because they want to tell their friends and not feel so lazy. The best blogs, of course, have multiple authors with interconnected conversations and conflicting ideas and dynamic comments and heated discussion. My blog is a soliloquy, a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.
Looking for meaning in the dustbin of my life. I probably won't find it in Savannah, so I might as well keep looking here. I learned a couple of weeks ago that the school to which I have applied doesn't make the all-important out of state tuition waver decision (my $10,000 question) until 2 weeks before school starts in August. This hardly allows me enough time to pack my apartment, much less quit my job, give my landlord any sort of notice, get a moving truck, move 1,000 miles, find a new place to live, change my mailing address with the postal authorities, start classes, get a job, and grow a new life to replace the one from Chicago that I shredded and recycled.
Young (very, very young) artist's work on display in the corridor outside the classroom portion of the new modern wing of the Art Institute of Chicago. The gril is sad indeed.
I am not. I've really been enjoying this summer so far. I'm at the beach almost every day that I have off of work. I've been to several interesting concerts in Millennium Park, several fun neighborhood festivals, and experienced a different side to life in Chicago than I have during previous summers. It has been good. A lot of this has to do with the fact that...
Blogs are great. You can come and go, people care and they don't. So casual, like gym memberships for people who join just because they want to tell their friends and not feel so lazy. The best blogs, of course, have multiple authors with interconnected conversations and conflicting ideas and dynamic comments and heated discussion. My blog is a soliloquy, a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.
Looking for meaning in the dustbin of my life. I probably won't find it in Savannah, so I might as well keep looking here. I learned a couple of weeks ago that the school to which I have applied doesn't make the all-important out of state tuition waver decision (my $10,000 question) until 2 weeks before school starts in August. This hardly allows me enough time to pack my apartment, much less quit my job, give my landlord any sort of notice, get a moving truck, move 1,000 miles, find a new place to live, change my mailing address with the postal authorities, start classes, get a job, and grow a new life to replace the one from Chicago that I shredded and recycled.
Young (very, very young) artist's work on display in the corridor outside the classroom portion of the new modern wing of the Art Institute of Chicago. The gril is sad indeed.
I am not. I've really been enjoying this summer so far. I'm at the beach almost every day that I have off of work. I've been to several interesting concerts in Millennium Park, several fun neighborhood festivals, and experienced a different side to life in Chicago than I have during previous summers. It has been good. A lot of this has to do with the fact that...
I am still seeing this boy named Scott. He is very NICE. This may be my highest compliment of all, and altogether too rare for the gay boys. Which is not to mention other facts such as: he is also nice looking and nice smelling and intelligent and accomplished and stylish in a slightly-askew sort of way and somehow, miraculously, enjoys my company, too. He has cool friends, and I am working hard to get over his veganism. He turns out to be Jewish, which is a delicious irony if you know anything at all about my father. He is also moving to Madrid in August for a year of school, so I am totally, positively not falling in love with him.
I am mapping some things in my head now, though, as far as relationships go. And ebb and flow. I'm learning. There are interesting convergences and divergences, people patterns. There's probably more in common with evolutionary theory than just terminology, also. Punctuated equilibrium and missing links and extinction.
Currently Listening to:
Marry Me by St. Vincent
I am mapping some things in my head now, though, as far as relationships go. And ebb and flow. I'm learning. There are interesting convergences and divergences, people patterns. There's probably more in common with evolutionary theory than just terminology, also. Punctuated equilibrium and missing links and extinction.
Currently Listening to:
Marry Me by St. Vincent
3 comments:
FYI: That totally not falling in love thing sometimes blows up in your face (and brain and heart). But relax, moving to Madrid for a year is not a complete finality.
I admire that you are even working on getting over the Veganism. It would be a deal breaker for me.
Note to Scott in case he ever reads this: Sorry! But I like everything else I know about you.
I meant to say this in my previous comment, but I forgot.
Every time someone says "Tomorrow" with even a nano second of a pause, I begin quoting, sometimes in my head but sometimes out loud, that very same soliloquy. Technically that's not where it begins, but that's where we had to start memorizing it in English my senior year of high school, so that's where I begin.
Have we discussed that before? I can't remember.
Post a Comment