Rehab

I’ve been reading a lot of Etgar Keret, staring at a lot of Perry Bible Fellowship. I need this bit of morbid inspiration to help propel me into the next phase of my life, phase dominate via chill pill. I’m walking a cable bridge, over a body of water more substantial than Biscuit Creek. Floating to my right is 30-year-old hipster, to my left is floundering domestic. Behind me is an unidentifiable tuft of sweetness, ahead is a “found” self that reeks of sage and nag-champa. What can I do but let go and crash into the water? Hopefully I become a mermaid before I’m caught in the screw of the failboat. And that’s always the hope isn’t it? To effortlessly transcend the archetype- to finally “be ourselves” and realize that that was what’s missing from this world, our pure and innocent selves. I want to see that my snowflake shape magically makes the jigsaw puzzle work, that I was what’s missing.

This week David gave up drinking, then talking because he needs something he can control. I’m jealous that he can define his shape so well, the shape of crazy.

I honestly feel like I’ve been in rehab for a year. I’ve named my problem and made moves to fix it in a controlled environment but because of this, I don’t know how I’ll handle the shock of the real world in 3 weeks. I’ll be home in 3 weeks. I know how quickly Frost Valley can turn into just a dream, how not hiking every day will make me skinny again, how competitive I can be when it comes to making art around other artists and when I fail I hide, and when I fail at love I hide. I have to stay strong and calm and take my proverbial chill pill on the daily and remember this day when I love myself very much. I need to remember how strong and able I am at this very moment. My love lives in my feet and in my belly, not in the air and not in someone else’s arms. MY LOVE is vibrant and smooth and pulses like the sun all through me.

Soulmates

Right now I’m eating an apple and popcorn and listening to Yanni. Last night David and I were going to see the midnight showing of Indiana Jones but we didn’t- which is great because I heard it was terrible so I’ll see it on a day when I’m fresh so I can be more scathingly critical.

We had tickets for the movie last night. David surprised me with them while I was half watching American Idol, half watching re-runs of Top Chef at the Lakehouse. But we decided to take naps, became unmotivated and woke up this morning feeling more awake than we would have but with less edge.

His parents saw Indiana Jones for their first date. I should have made more of an effort. Something that bothers me about David- pretty regularly, is that he needs to be so far from me in order to fall asleep. I end up feeling rejected and then guilty for feeling rejected because it isn’t really his fault.

Last night our naps were across camp from one another. David dropped me at my cabin and fled to the castle. As soon as he left, I was over Indiana Jones. The midnight movie was like a birthday cake with no party. I do this to David a lot. I shut him down quietly in my head. This morning at breakfast he called me out on it saying, “You know, you have a very short-term emotional memory.” Meaning one minute I’m crazy about him and then I’m so obviously over him the next.

Today the weather mirrored my temperment. I was teaching Project Adventure second period and had to take shelter from the icy rain 3 different times. The rest of the time the skies were clear and beautiful. The whole episode led to little progression in my class and in the end I was tired and relieved it was all over. I wonder if that’s how David feels about me. I’m not bad, just exhausting. And I wonder if it’s too late to fix it… half the time, the other half I wonder if it’s worth it. And that’s the problem.

I talked to my memaw tonight before dinner. She asked me about David and our plans for the summer. I told her that David’s hiking the west coast till October and that I’ll be at Omega till then and after that we don’t know. She said we sound like soulmates… I don’t even know how to hear that shit anymore.

My Ole Kentucky Home

I could really use some sweets right now. I’m in Margetts after a long day of boating and candle making. David’s in my cabin, sick with some achy-maker and I’m sure my period must be coming soon. Today I got another mass email from Griffin asking me to support him in becoming Esquire magazine’s most fashionable male of the year. I gave him a five out of five and mailed him that I’d done so. I immediately wished I hadn’t and since then, I’ve un-voted him because he is my rival, not my friend and I need to work to preserve such a precious relationship.

The whole thing made me think about home a lot, how I miss everyone and how when I get back, nothing will be the same as it was. Because I’m completely not the same. I feel like I’ve aged a lot and that I’m stronger and I have a sense of choice and empowerment. I feel like I know my family and understand our love for each other and when I was home before, this was not the case. Last time I was in Kentucky, I hadn’t seen my dad in almost 3 years. Just knowing my dad again makes me feel so much more complete.

Yes, relationships have changed. I was with Griffin and now I’m not. Now I’m with David and many of my closest friends will all be days away soon… but I’ve come to a place where my relationships don’t define me in the way they did before. I not only can handle being alone now but I like it. And as it turns out I’m a very dynamic introvert. It’s crazy what all’s different when no one’s watching and when I don’t have to be polite or a good girlfriend or juggle countless inequities that surface in a relationship with someone else. The idea of going home to Kentucky has never felt like such an adventure. I feel like I’m going to explore, not be explored. And now, my perception and happiness count. I don’t need someone else to “see it too” for it to count, it being anything. I didn’t used to operate like that.

Getting off the plane in Lexington will be like the first day of school but I’m not gonna have a new outfit or show up with the right person. I’m gonna write on the chalkboard because I remember thinking it felt nice in the past when I’d randomly get a chance at it (teachers use special chalk) and go to an FFA meeting because they play with animals. I’m ready to see what Adele thinks about Kentucky because she’s never had it before, not as her own- not as far back as I can remember.

Drama In My Belly

Last night and today I’ve been having a lot of anxiety, so much that it’s hard to breathe sometimes. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. No one’s mad at me. I don’t feel guilty about anything. David’s wonderful. I went to see little pony Silver last night… No complaints, just this feeling. Milli Vanilli’s “Blame It on the Rain” comes to mind. Because it’s raining today.

Instead of blogging I’ve been watching The Hills on MTV’s website. I’d be watching it now but I’m working the front desk at the administration office so I don’t have sound. Terrible I know but I can’t help myself. I love it.

Slicky Paints

Right now the gesso’s drying on a piece I’ll call, “I’m Too Pretty to Say Fuck You.” I can’t wait to get going on her. Something clicked tonight and I remembered how to paint, and why I love it. Maybe it’s the fumes. The oils are back. I’m not trying to salvage my brushes. I’m a mess with these new materials but I have fun being a mess… in general. I finished “The One Who Saved My Soul” and “The Black Part of Me” unless sober Adele wakes up in the morning unsure about the whole thing, but I don’t think she will. She’s usually an OK critic.

Excuses Excuses

It’s been ages since my last post, I know, and if you’re still listening, I’m sorry. It’s like I don’t trust you or something, I know. I know. It’s just that every time I write I feel as though I’m almost onto something but not quite. I feel naked and wrong. Last night my dad called long after dark to get my blog address. He was drunk probably for the first time in months (he never drinks) and the first thing that occurred to him was to use the bar’s free internet to take a peek into his daughter’s life. I was groggy from being woken up but it still warmed my heart. LP called and woke me up last night, David, my Little Prince. He wanted to tell me he thinks I’m special. Who are these crazy people? I love them very much. Catch and Release.

Lisa is back in my life finally! Things are coming full circle. She brought back all kinds of great UK tunes and badassness to camp. She makes me feel like a bigger person. If I weren’t married to David and didn’t love David, I would try to hook up with either of them. Each one has what the other hasn’t. And what each one has I love very much. Ernest Hemingway said that about his wife and a woman he calls Kraut. I changed the names and I’m not married though I am partial to cock.

Ernest also said, “ You never saw a counter-puncher who was punchy.” What a wise old chatter-box. He also said, “Who the hell should care about saving his soul when it is a man’s duty to lose it intelligently, the way you would sell a position you were defending.” Yes.

Today I saw Ironman and bought heeled shoes. The last scene was my favorite. Robert Downy’s arrogance really speaks to me. I’d drink his koolaid. I finally visited beth tom’s website. She is truly an artist’s artist. I want to be her except more exposed and less afraid. When it comes to chatter, she doesn’t put out. She introduced me to my favorite bumper sticker ever, “I Represent GOD You Fuck”.

Estelle and Kanye’s “American Boy”. God of inspiration keep shining on me.

My first boyfriend ever just had a little baby girl named Emmaline. My second boyfriend just bought a house. The third is in Alaska? The fourth is hmm… the fifth is playing jazz in Colorado. The sixth is fixing teeth. Lucky number seven is a real-estate shark. And my latest is contemplating how to give money back to the man. I say he should buy pink rhinestone collars with bells for the baby cats at the humane society. Maybe then they’d let us walk the dogs.

I’m going to Kentucky in five weeks. I won’t have a boyfriend again. David and I say maybe after the summer. You never know… Maybe we’ll still be in love. Maybe we’ll move to California but really, I know we’ll just fall for other people. I’ll stay with the guy who asks me for forever. I have no problem with committing but I don’t think the boys I fall for are the commital type, and that’s fine but it also means there’s no point in waiting. It would be so sad to wait for something that never comes. Griffin taught me that. I’m always the best girl but never the best girl enough for forever. I am Ironman. A league of my own. All there ever is or was.

I hiked to High Falls with an old man named Stewart last weekend and I asked him, “How does it feel to be old?” He was 85. He said he’s exactly the same person he was as a youngster just with a little less energy. He said being old is great if you have hobbies and interests. If you don’t the time just drags and all you think about is dying. His family is all dead but he’s happy with his museums and hikes and stamp collecting… But sometimes I say I’m always happy and I’m not. I still think it would be sad to not have anyone… I want to be like Johny and June with somebody. I will. I’m so cynical sometimes but I know things will work because I try.

But yeah, it’ll suck leaving David. I fell for that one fast and I know deep down that when I get off that plane, Frost Valley will be a dream and David will be gone from me. Never the same.