Stages of Aloneness/Nostalgia

Dear blog,

You are looking mighty fine right now.

I realize it's been a while since we've last spoken. Even then it was in cryptic little moody snippets that I am prone to at midnight after reflecting on some bullshit drama or just too much introspection.

Is there such a thing as too much introspection, you might ask? Well, there is for me. The way it works is like this:

1) Oh, happy happy silly nonsense, it's a beautiful day, let's run around outside.
2) Hyper! People! Hello!
3) Hmm. Okay. Alone time. Alone time is good. Contented sigh.
4) More alone time. Okay. Cool.
5) More alone time...?
6) I'm still alone?
7) Why am I alone? =(

It snowballs from there.

And thus it happened again today, as it is often wont to do. It's frustrating. Some of it is my doing; I choose to be in my room instead of potential elsewheres because it is comfortable and near to my computer and convenient. But then I just... flatline, and plummet, and there goes my good mood. Sigh. I guess it also doesn't help too much that I also miss people at home dearly.

Right now, I am listening to Coldplay's "Viva la Vida" and it's very nostalgic but in a quiet and calming sort of way. It doesn't ache, because it harkens back to a time that I don't wish to return to. But all the same there's something there, a sort of smiling wistfulness that keeps whispering to me "Hello again. Remember...?"

Yes, I remember. I remember driving my parent's cars because I had yet to get one of my own, driving down the freeway and turning up the music. I remember a hot summer afternoon when I painted my face and dressed up as Batgirl for a party, cape at once whirling and clinging to my shoulders as I danced around getting ready. I remember anger and hurt, curled up into a ball on my bed with headphones drowning out everything else. And I remember stumbling into a late night conversation that quite literally changed the course of my life as I knew it.

So yes, I remember you. Some of it's a little painful, to be honest. But please don't leave. I don't like being alone.

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Realization

I don't want to admit to the possibility of a lost cause, because I'm terrified of being wrong.

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I wonder if you did write that post about me. And I wonder if you get as sad as I do when I think about what happened.

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Reasons why

There's so much I want need to say to you, but you don't want to listen.

It's crushing me on the inside.

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This one time a couple years ago, I "ran away" (i.e., drove off without permission and spent the night at a friend's) from my house.

Tonight, I'd love to again. But for real this time.

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This month is a timebomb.

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Sometimes

Sometimes, I am crazy.

Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to just drop everything and travel for a long time.

Sometimes I think about what it would feel like to die.

Sometimes I say the most stupid things.

Sometimes I say nothing at all.

Sometimes I stay up too late.

Sometimes I am depressed.

Sometimes I dread what will happen.

Sometimes I imagine horrible things for no reason.

Sometimes I work myself up into a frenzy over nothing.

Sometimes I talk to myself.

Sometimes I hear two people talking in my head.

Sometimes I write it down.

Sometimes I don't.

Sometimes I deny.

Sometimes I need a reality check.

Right now, at 12:32 in the a.m., in the silence and the otherwise emptiness of this front room, I want to melt into the sweetness of staring up at the starry sky for no reason but to marvel, to fall asleep there, protected by a blanket of night air, and stop dreaming horrible dreams.

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Fuck you, George Lucas: Lamenting the loss of a childhood bit of awesome

I dunno if you heard, but Star Tours is closing today at Disneyland. The one in Florida doesn't close til the beginning of September, but that doesn't count because it's not the original.

This makes me so depressed. You have no idea. I mean, if you've been to Disneyland and experienced for yourself the joy that is Star Tours, you'd know what I'm talking about. Waiting in line through the futuristic spacestation-esque surroundings, waiting for the doors to finally open and the super nice/mean/apathetic/jaded Disneyland employee telling you which to file through, taking your seat... The awesomeness of the ride itself... And that droid! That silly little endearing robot that pilots you on your way to Endor. GAH GEORGE LUCAS WHY ARE YOU RUINING MY LIFE.

I was seriously thinking about it on the drive home from my summer class this afternoon. I have so many good memories about that ride. Foremost in my head right now is from years and years and years ago... I must have been about four or five. My parents had taken my sister and I to Disneyland, and we were walking around the park at night, and it was dark and rainy and I was tired, but we went on Star Tours before heading back to our hotel for the evening. And there was no line. And we went in. And it was awesome. Because it wasn't the first time I'd ever been on the ride, and it certainly wasn't the last... it's just a moment that I remember because it was so good.

I was just driving home from class thinking about that, and I came to the realization that my eventual offspring won't have that experience. Sure, there's Star Tours 2.0 and all that bullshit with the podracing and the special effects and whatever, but that's not the same. There's just something about experiencing something amazing as a kid, and then eventually getting to share that same experience with your kid... And I apparently long for something like that. I've never, ever thought about it before today. But sitting in the car by myself I came to the realization that I won't be able to do that with something I genuinely love and enjoy and have great memories of, and it made me legitimately sad.

So I wonder if anyone has ever gone up to George Lucas, knowing full well who he is, and ever said "fuck you" to his face. At like, a meet and greet, or a signing, or convention. Something. I used to get really star-struck, and I occasionally still am, but meeting all these cool, famous people at Con this past weekend whom I really enjoy watching on television bringing characters to life, or writers or musicians whose work I love and admire, I realized that I'm slowly getting over it and am able to have something of a conversation with them.

I want to be the person who is eventually so bold and so articulate, and so not nervous at all. And I want to be able to someday walk up to George Lucas, and I want to say "fuck you". And maybe it impacts him, maybe not. Maybe his neck explodes. I don't know. But that's my goal.

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Milestones to failure

The past week has had more than its fair share of firsts. And they're not very good ones, either.

- Tuesday was the first time I've ever been asked to leave a class for the day. I'm taking a biology class this summer for gen ed credit at my old community college and I forgot to wear closed-toe shoes for lab (long weekends are deadly to newly-establishing habits, and I wear flip-flops everywhere. I don't have to think about it, they're extensions of my feet). It was pretty embarrassing.

- Wednesday I ended up getting a parking ticket for the first time ever. Thanks for putting up signs and then hiding them behind trees so I don't notice them for two weeks. I've never gotten any sort of driving ticket. It sucked. And now I owe the city 40 bucks.

- Friday I was driving with my friend and accidentally ran over a squirrel running across the street and almost cried. Shut up, okay? It was traumatizing. I've never killed anything bigger than a bug before. I'm sorry, squirrel! =(

I'm not sure why I felt the need to spell it all out like that, but last week was.... trying. A lot of little things added up and I'm just realizing it now, and though I wrote like a crazy person on Thursday night/extremely early Friday morning and actually managed to churn out a decent guest blog, right now it just feels like I'm not accomplishing anything and I'm just a failtastic waste of space. I know that's silly and I'm not really, but sometimes it just feels like I am.

Which isn't really encouraging the day before a big test (honestly, I don't give a crap about photosynthesis and cellular respiration, but I need this class), but I'm trying to see past that sentiment of failure. It's a little easier once I acknowledge it to move on afterward.

So here's to last week and all the suck. And here's to this week and it being that much better and productive.

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