Today, I really have to get organized.
This is a difficult task for a Vagabond Whore.
I've been wondering lately what I want out of this whole writing thing. I love the idea of being an author. I am so insanely envious of those people who sit in cafes, filling brown notebooks with their ideas. I love the texture, the feelings, the warmth that I associate with being a writer. I want to be profound. I love the way my script looks filling up yellow sheets of crinkled paper. I love pausing for a sip of (insert affeinated beverage of choice here), collecting my thoughts, and drinking in the aura of my author-ly-ness.
None of these reasons being particularly noble.
Oh, I'd like to have Important Ideas. I'd like to have characters who live their stories through me. I would like to create a world so vital and real it breathes.
Do I believe myself capable of it?
Not really. Sometimes, in my daydreams, I imagine that I could be the kind of person I want to be. But, gods, I feel so disconnected from that person in my dreams. I don't see her as being anyone that I am capable of becoming. I don't see myself as being talented enough, or even having the right temperament.
I am easily discouraged. And I tend to not try very hard when I have even a vague feeling that I am setting myself up for failure. This is so dumb... I know I'll never accomplish anything great this way. And I so badly want to do something great, admirable.
Maybe this is my problem. I want to do things that will make other people happy. I will never feel fulfilled without the approval of others. As much as I want to be an original person; someone who doesn't care what other people think... I want to be recognized for being that kind of person! Arrgh! I am such a hypocrite.
If I am going to be a great writer, I need to be prepared for it to be thankless in all those senses. Most likely, the only person who is going to gain satisfaction from my writing is me. And that satisfaction is going to have to be from the joy of the act itself, not because other people will admire me for it. It's healthy for me to have a certain amount of ambition, of course. It will help try my hardest to get published. But for the actual writing process, I need to throw all these other concerns out the window. Because they get in my way when I'm writing. If I'm self-conscious when I write, it SUCKS.
That's what I have to say for now. I'll be back when I make some progress, hopefully later tonight. I'll also entertain you with some interesting stories---maybe. I just needed to get this down on theoretical paper. Maybe actually saying what I need will help me do it. Maybe. Since I have witnesses.
Goodbye forever for now,
Mei-Mei
Monday, October 27, 2008
Sunday, October 26, 2008
A Leisurely Journey into Cece's Cleavage
Ums, yeah.
Today has sucked in general, pretty much highlighting my failings as a person and a writer, all wrapped up in one bright, shining package of SUCK.
It's been a lazy day when I really cannot afford one. I slept until nearly noon, because I stayed up pretty late watching episodes of House on the computer. Then, when I did wake up, I watched more. Woot.
Craig finally came in and roused me from my stupor. I ate several fattening things at Chili's and contemplated my numerous unsuccesses as a dieter as I GORGED myself like an ugly little pig ripe for slaughter.
Craig and I then journeyed to Moe Joe's, and it was like a gloomy little birthday party for a dead kid. All of my favorite baristas made an appearance, and there was fun gossip about how working at Moe Joe's sucks, blabiddyblableg. Cece bitched in the uber-sexy way that only Cece can bitch, compassionate and hateful and sensual all at once, rubbing all over her boob/tummy area as she cited the wrongs of her boss and co-workers.
I became aware of certain Jansen-y feelings aroused by being in her presence and kept wondering what that meant. It doesn't have to be a sexual thing, even though it usually ends up turning out that way. Maybe I'm kidding myself in thinking that it could be anything but that. I had those feelings about Jansen long before I fell so in love with him my guts fell out... so maybe its not long before this happens with Cece too.
I mean... this could just be a thing that happens between me and someone who I don't view as my equal... someone I put on a pedestal and admire rather than viewing them as a friend. I did it often with teachers. Oh, I hate how I'm falling into this old pattern of behavior. I thought I was cured of this at least. Putting on a show for them. Trying to be all witty, look cute/sexy/intelligent. Dazzle them with my originality and depth. Blech.
I've realized that "authority figures" (I put this in quotes because I don't know how to really describe the kind of person I'm talking about... people who aren't my equals... people who I really like, but sense that there is a barrier between me and them... people who I claim I would like to be friends with but almost surely never would be, because I would lose the rush that I get from trying to impress them, contemplating every word they've said, every glance they sent my way, from afar. Admiring them. Mind fucking them. It's Cameron syndrome. It's terrible. I fucking love it. I eat it up. Like ice cream.) inspire the same sort of butterfly-in-my-vagina symptoms that love does, which maybe is why I tend to fall in love with the House figure. The Jansen. The Cece. The Andy. My mind/heart/vagina can't distinguish between the "love" feelings and the "barrier" feelings. They are so damn interconnected that I can't really tell where one ends and the other begins. Maybe they're the same. Maybe the feeling that I thought was love was really just the "barrier" feeling, which I named unrequited love.
This could be why I feel like I'm withholding myself from Tyler. I don't doubt that I love him. That much is definite. But I don't get that same delicious angsty swoop from being with him that I used to. Of course I don't. Because he loves me back. The feeling that I so easily identified as being "in love" is gone, because that was never really the whole story of love. It was just the only part I had ever read. I know that I'm in love with Tyler, but it feels so damn easy that it feels wrong. Where is the pain? Where is the drama? There isn't much, so I inject it in with my own bitchiness. I'm a enneagram 4w5 so/sx... so of course I do. We fucking eat that stuff up.
So, along comes Cece, and all those old feelings come back. I'm not in love with her. There's no real way that that could possibly be true. Yeah, she's sexy. She's a fun person, and she seems nice too. But I don't even know if I could be friends with her. She drinks, she does pot... I dunno. I've become a lot more flexible on my "values" since the end of high school, but it still bothers me. I'm not being super-judgemental about it, because it definitely seems like she's got it together, and that she's a cool, good person. But it still bothers me. I can't help but see that kind of stuff as being self-destructive. Plus, it just highlights how much I don't know about her.
Besides, I really don't think I'm bi. Somewhat bi curious? For sure. I wouldn't be writing this if I weren't. But could I really see myself as having any kind of serious relationship with a girl? Even enjoying having physical contact with her? Not really. I kind of feel the same way about sexual contact with a girl now as I did about sexual contact in general when I was 12/13. Hot in theory, but kind of gross in practice.
Yet, here I am in Moe Joe's, talking to this girl and feeling all those familiar pangs, aches, and flutters, as she bats her eyes, pats her tummy, and languishes on the couch looking like a coffee goddess. I am full of admiration. I find it impossible to act natural. I go kinda twitchy, I laugh too loudly, and I try waaay too hard to seem like a cool kid. Lord. My own tummy goes all fluttery when she says my name. No, this is not a juvenile recitation of an old cliche. I literally get my stupid goo-goo feelings when she says my name. She never used to say it. Now, all of a sudden, it's 'Melissa' this, 'Melissa' that. I love it when she looks at me. And hate it. I feel like a slug next to her. An oozy little fat thing. Lard and poop.
Ah, the angst.
I am a freakin highschooler. I really, really, really have to get over this shit. It is stupid. This isn't love. This is particular, this Cece thing... this might actually be all lust. Which is weird. I never really lusted after anyone before. Jansen was completely unattractive. I was all in it for the personality which, admittedly, was not as great as I wanted to believe... but still. My feelings for Cece... I have no real reason to like her much better than anyone else. She's a cool person, sure... but not really special the way I like my victims to be. She's not artsy, or bombastically funny, or complex. She's relatively healthy, for godssake! So what is it I like about her?
She's hooootttt.
Maybe this is good for me. I suppose everyone has to have someone to lust over at least once. I've graduated from silly, unrealistic puppy love at least (read Jansen).
Sometimes I think I've just got a screwy biological clock. I got my period relatively early, but I didn't really start getting armpit hair until the end of senior year. I didn't get anything resembling boobs until last year. And all of a sudden my hormones are throwing all night parties, binge-drinking, and puking all over the carpets. Suddenly, everything is making me go all super horny. I find myself attracted to loads more people than I used to be.
What. Ever.
Sorry for the pointless musings. I went in intending on telling you quickly about my day, and then musing about my Verloren, but I ended up just selfishly bitchin' about my hormones.
What a teenager, huh?
Wellz, to conclude about my day. Yeah. Cece bitched. We listened. I tried to convince her not to quit working at Moe Joe's-- it came out half whine/half giggle. Ooops. Volunteered to work at Moe Joe's. Applications- gone. Me- bereft.
Craig and I came back to the dorm. I cuddled with Tyler. I humped Tyler. We went to the library to finally do work. I couldn't concentrate in the library. We came to the Multicultural Lounge in Hendrix. Stalked various people on facebook. Finally decided to buckle down ad muse about my writing on my blog. Started writing. Got sidetracked.
And here we are.
This was not supposed to happen, but at least it got me into the flow of writing. Definitely let me loose. Now I'm going to go get some books from the library. I'll be back, and probably put the interesting notes in here, in a post that will actually make some headway.
Well, I hope you enjoyed this glimpse into my stupidity.
I know I did.
Yours, ever-faithful in lust,
Mei-Mei
Today has sucked in general, pretty much highlighting my failings as a person and a writer, all wrapped up in one bright, shining package of SUCK.
It's been a lazy day when I really cannot afford one. I slept until nearly noon, because I stayed up pretty late watching episodes of House on the computer. Then, when I did wake up, I watched more. Woot.
Craig finally came in and roused me from my stupor. I ate several fattening things at Chili's and contemplated my numerous unsuccesses as a dieter as I GORGED myself like an ugly little pig ripe for slaughter.
Craig and I then journeyed to Moe Joe's, and it was like a gloomy little birthday party for a dead kid. All of my favorite baristas made an appearance, and there was fun gossip about how working at Moe Joe's sucks, blabiddyblableg. Cece bitched in the uber-sexy way that only Cece can bitch, compassionate and hateful and sensual all at once, rubbing all over her boob/tummy area as she cited the wrongs of her boss and co-workers.
I became aware of certain Jansen-y feelings aroused by being in her presence and kept wondering what that meant. It doesn't have to be a sexual thing, even though it usually ends up turning out that way. Maybe I'm kidding myself in thinking that it could be anything but that. I had those feelings about Jansen long before I fell so in love with him my guts fell out... so maybe its not long before this happens with Cece too.
I mean... this could just be a thing that happens between me and someone who I don't view as my equal... someone I put on a pedestal and admire rather than viewing them as a friend. I did it often with teachers. Oh, I hate how I'm falling into this old pattern of behavior. I thought I was cured of this at least. Putting on a show for them. Trying to be all witty, look cute/sexy/intelligent. Dazzle them with my originality and depth. Blech.
I've realized that "authority figures" (I put this in quotes because I don't know how to really describe the kind of person I'm talking about... people who aren't my equals... people who I really like, but sense that there is a barrier between me and them... people who I claim I would like to be friends with but almost surely never would be, because I would lose the rush that I get from trying to impress them, contemplating every word they've said, every glance they sent my way, from afar. Admiring them. Mind fucking them. It's Cameron syndrome. It's terrible. I fucking love it. I eat it up. Like ice cream.) inspire the same sort of butterfly-in-my-vagina symptoms that love does, which maybe is why I tend to fall in love with the House figure. The Jansen. The Cece. The Andy. My mind/heart/vagina can't distinguish between the "love" feelings and the "barrier" feelings. They are so damn interconnected that I can't really tell where one ends and the other begins. Maybe they're the same. Maybe the feeling that I thought was love was really just the "barrier" feeling, which I named unrequited love.
This could be why I feel like I'm withholding myself from Tyler. I don't doubt that I love him. That much is definite. But I don't get that same delicious angsty swoop from being with him that I used to. Of course I don't. Because he loves me back. The feeling that I so easily identified as being "in love" is gone, because that was never really the whole story of love. It was just the only part I had ever read. I know that I'm in love with Tyler, but it feels so damn easy that it feels wrong. Where is the pain? Where is the drama? There isn't much, so I inject it in with my own bitchiness. I'm a enneagram 4w5 so/sx... so of course I do. We fucking eat that stuff up.
So, along comes Cece, and all those old feelings come back. I'm not in love with her. There's no real way that that could possibly be true. Yeah, she's sexy. She's a fun person, and she seems nice too. But I don't even know if I could be friends with her. She drinks, she does pot... I dunno. I've become a lot more flexible on my "values" since the end of high school, but it still bothers me. I'm not being super-judgemental about it, because it definitely seems like she's got it together, and that she's a cool, good person. But it still bothers me. I can't help but see that kind of stuff as being self-destructive. Plus, it just highlights how much I don't know about her.
Besides, I really don't think I'm bi. Somewhat bi curious? For sure. I wouldn't be writing this if I weren't. But could I really see myself as having any kind of serious relationship with a girl? Even enjoying having physical contact with her? Not really. I kind of feel the same way about sexual contact with a girl now as I did about sexual contact in general when I was 12/13. Hot in theory, but kind of gross in practice.
Yet, here I am in Moe Joe's, talking to this girl and feeling all those familiar pangs, aches, and flutters, as she bats her eyes, pats her tummy, and languishes on the couch looking like a coffee goddess. I am full of admiration. I find it impossible to act natural. I go kinda twitchy, I laugh too loudly, and I try waaay too hard to seem like a cool kid. Lord. My own tummy goes all fluttery when she says my name. No, this is not a juvenile recitation of an old cliche. I literally get my stupid goo-goo feelings when she says my name. She never used to say it. Now, all of a sudden, it's 'Melissa' this, 'Melissa' that. I love it when she looks at me. And hate it. I feel like a slug next to her. An oozy little fat thing. Lard and poop.
Ah, the angst.
I am a freakin highschooler. I really, really, really have to get over this shit. It is stupid. This isn't love. This is particular, this Cece thing... this might actually be all lust. Which is weird. I never really lusted after anyone before. Jansen was completely unattractive. I was all in it for the personality which, admittedly, was not as great as I wanted to believe... but still. My feelings for Cece... I have no real reason to like her much better than anyone else. She's a cool person, sure... but not really special the way I like my victims to be. She's not artsy, or bombastically funny, or complex. She's relatively healthy, for godssake! So what is it I like about her?
She's hooootttt.
Maybe this is good for me. I suppose everyone has to have someone to lust over at least once. I've graduated from silly, unrealistic puppy love at least (read Jansen).
Sometimes I think I've just got a screwy biological clock. I got my period relatively early, but I didn't really start getting armpit hair until the end of senior year. I didn't get anything resembling boobs until last year. And all of a sudden my hormones are throwing all night parties, binge-drinking, and puking all over the carpets. Suddenly, everything is making me go all super horny. I find myself attracted to loads more people than I used to be.
What. Ever.
Sorry for the pointless musings. I went in intending on telling you quickly about my day, and then musing about my Verloren, but I ended up just selfishly bitchin' about my hormones.
What a teenager, huh?
Wellz, to conclude about my day. Yeah. Cece bitched. We listened. I tried to convince her not to quit working at Moe Joe's-- it came out half whine/half giggle. Ooops. Volunteered to work at Moe Joe's. Applications- gone. Me- bereft.
Craig and I came back to the dorm. I cuddled with Tyler. I humped Tyler. We went to the library to finally do work. I couldn't concentrate in the library. We came to the Multicultural Lounge in Hendrix. Stalked various people on facebook. Finally decided to buckle down ad muse about my writing on my blog. Started writing. Got sidetracked.
And here we are.
This was not supposed to happen, but at least it got me into the flow of writing. Definitely let me loose. Now I'm going to go get some books from the library. I'll be back, and probably put the interesting notes in here, in a post that will actually make some headway.
Well, I hope you enjoyed this glimpse into my stupidity.
I know I did.
Yours, ever-faithful in lust,
Mei-Mei
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