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1/6/20
I’m high at the bus stop 🎶 it’s a good time honestly like no one is here so I can just chill. I’m really nervous because I have an exam today, and I didn’t know it was an exam. I thought classes were starting this week, actually, but they actually start next week. It’s fine, like it’s nice to have an extra week to do what I need to get done and look for work and all that. I really do need to get a job. It’s going to be a problem if I don’t; I’m pretty much flat broke, and Emily is living from paycheck to paycheck. For poorer or for richer, they say, and this is definitely poorer. In sickness and health, too, for that matter, I mean we’re both super super depressed and anxious, and then there’s me with who the fuck knows what’s wrong with me. I didn’t realize how non-functional I am until Talia pointed it out. I guess it’s not normal to lie in bed all day every day unless I have a pressing obligation that can’t be gotten out of. But that’s how I was living. It’s going to be different now, though! I’m going to do my best to make a change and make my life different. New year, new me, right? I think I can do it. Yesterday, I spent the day cleaning— Emily and I made our room so lovely, and we put a bookshelf up, and it’s so nice and good in all possible ways, and then today I spent the day writing an essay, and now I’m going to take my exam, and then we’re going out to eat because Mom gave me money for that, and we have no food in the house. So, good day. And they’ll keep coming? if I have anything to say about it. It’ll work out!!
Spotify isn’t working, so I have to listen to the music on my iCloud, and it’s all stuff from middle school, because that’s when I stopped buying music legally, and I just got the weirdest /emotion/, like I don’t know how to describe it. It’s a frisson, rare and transient, this vision of myself, this almost-25-year-old, half-post-graduate-degree /person/ smoking their rose-gold vape, typing industriously on their rose-gold iPhone, pink earphones, pink purse, and three-inch heels signifying their rebellion to the student aesthetic, half European, half Los Angelean, multilingual, possessed of good stories and better friends, equally at home in an art gallery as a club. Snapshot: who are you, and what did you do with the scared 13-year-old who listened to this song and finally felt at home? I’ve suffered so much. I feel like I’m unloosening a knot in my heart, though. Something is starting to give, and maybe I can heal and recover. I want a good life for myself. I want the life that passers-by think I have. Because, really, my life could be so incredibly interesting if I would just work for it. I need to change something. I don’t know what, but it’ll come. Change will come. I just need to keep going.
I guess it’s okay to not know what the future holds. Until recently, that thought was terrifying. I don’t like not /knowing/. But you know, it’s okay. I never thought I would live this long. In fact, I thought I was going to die after high school, and then definitely after college. I could never /ever/ foresee this. I thought I was going to die alone and unloved with nothing to show. And maybe that’s still true. But it might also Not be true. I might have a happy life. And it could be really exciting! I might marry Emily! I might have a family! I might have a degree and a job and a car that I bought myself! Who knows? It’s so exciting!
Re: the marrying Emily bit— she did say she “ha[s] a plan,” but that it would take time and be a surprise. It’s like I said, I can’t stand not knowing things, and also, I’ve realized that I’m almost comically impatient, so I want it to happen tomorrow, but I know I have to wait and be patient and let it all happen in its own course. But I do have to wonder what it could be. Like, why will it take time? What’s she planning? When will it happen? How can I ensure that my nails are done, my makeup is on, and my hair is clean? What if I’m wearing yoga pants? No, hopefully she’ll warn me at least a little, especially if it’s going to be at all public (and she knows me, so it probably will be). Again, she knows me, and she knows I like to look good, so I’m pretty sure she’ll at least tell me to shower or something 😂😅 I can’t wait! I think I really want to get married. I had a lot of partying and hoeing to get out of my system, but I think I’m finally ready to settle down. It’s been a nice almost-25 years, but this tomcat is finally ready to land on four paws (as Victor Hugo put it). But like, I’m still going to drink and smoke and party and be dumb. I hope you know this. It’s not pantsuit time yet.
I don’t think my younger self could ever have predicted the trajectory of my life, not in a million years. I was an honors student, and then a shut-in, and then a hard-partying thottie at one of the most prestigious schools in the country (and possibly the world, if the global rankings are anything to go by), and then an alcoholic, and then I went to rehab, and then I was a PhD student, and then I went to rehab again, and now I’m in grad school again, but in England this time. Also, I worked in a warehouse for awhile. I don’t know man, I feel like I’ve really lived a life. And the crazy thing is that it’s nowhere near over (probably). Ooh I could write a memoir! Then I could get rich and buy houses for people. That’s all I want. I just want to be rich, like not rich enough to get the guillotine, you know, but rich enough to have nice things and pay off people’s loans and all that good stuff. I want to help people, but it’s so much easier to do that if I have money. And that’s not to mention that I really am kind of a spoiled brat, like I do really love pretty and expensive things, and I always get what I want, somehow. It’s a problem. I think I need to be a martyr. That seems like it would be good. And I should live an austere life. But man, where’s the fun in that? The only fun thing martyrs do is get canonized, and that arguably doesn’t impact their lives at all. On the other hand, dilettantes are perhaps even more well-known, both in their own time, and in the annals of history, and they have 100% a better time. So, it’s decided. I must flâneur around all the major cities I can fit in my passport and become famous (or infamous?) and have wildly inaccurate historical novels written about me and get a Wikipedia page with a picture that’s flattering, but not so flattering that people don’t go looking for other pictures of me to see what I look like in those. Maybe someone will write a musical about me, too. Oh, but what if it was bad :( I don’t know what I would do. I guess nothing, since I would be chilling with the saints and angels by that point (assuming I went that direction 🙏), or maybe I would be so incensed that I would fly down to Earth and knock over a chandelier or something. Point is, I don’t actually want to be a martyr.
I also don’t want to take this exam. It’s going to be really annoying. Also, I only went to half the lectures and never did any of the (not graded) assignments. I think I’ll pass, hopefully, but I wish I could do that without going so far as to take the test. Ah, well. Such are the trials of those of such a high caliber of intelligence as I. Imagine if people actually talked like that :/ like they do, but imagine it :/ It’ll be okay, though. I can do this. And then we can get food and alcohol and dessert and it’ll be okay. Oh, wait, except I still need to write that essay for tomorrow. Okay, well, tomorrow I’m going to treat myself and do something nice. I don’t know what, but it’ll be my last day of being 24, so I should enjoy it, right?
Okay, so I didn’t fail the exam probably, but I don’t think I did very well. I probably got a C. Or maybe a D. Except here, that’s like a B LMAO but it’s fine, you know? At least it’s over. Now I can go home and then go out again! I kind of wish the boys weren’t coming with us, though. Not that I don’t like them, but... I don’t really like them. No, that’s not true. I’m doing that thing where if I think someone doesn’t like me, then I try not to like them. I’ve done it ever since I can remember. It’s not good. So I guess I should try to like them, even though they’re the epitome of white gays. But they do mean well, and maybe I should be more accepting and less puritanically sectarian. Oof. Adulthood is hard.
Remember when I tripped acid and it actually worked? Ah, good times. I discovered the secret to life, but because life is a Nabokov short story, the audience shall never know it. Which is a fancy way of saying that I forget. I remember the gist, though, which is Mindfulness ✨ I need to be aware of everything. Fixing things will come, but the first step is to know there’s a problem.
Who’s drinking wine on the bus? It’s not me, for once. Nah, I’m kidding. I never drank wine on the bus. Just vodka.
Hmm I think I’m a little hungry. I haven’t been eating much lately, which is really good, and I’m looking a lot less bloated than I was even a few days ago. I still don’t think I would win any bikini contests, but at least my clothes hide me. Also, bikini contests are stupid. But anyway (or “anyways” as Natalie so eloquently says) (damn that was a really bitchy thing to say, what the hell), I’m excited for food. I don’t know what they have, but hopefully it will be good.
Oh my goodness, Evanescence slaps just as hard as always. Say what I will about Gerard Way’s sheer talent and artistry and my contention that MCR is /my/ band (and I will say it often and loudly), Amy Lee really does know how to get into your soul and make it feel valid. I’m so into this. I think I need more music, though. Spotify is so, well, spotty, and it’s Talia’s account anyway. I like having music. I just don’t know how to get it onto my phone in the Music app. I used to download it to my laptop, but I don’t have a toggle to connect my phone on my new one, so I can’t. Oh! But maybe Airdrop? I’ll have to experiment.
WAKE ME UP (wake me up inside) 🤟😩👍 this song is so unironically good. I wonder if they know that it’s become a meme. I would be happy. I’ve always wanted to produce a well-known meme. Once I made a meme that got like 550 notes on Tumblr. That was cool. It was about Les Mis. I feel like maybe people sensed my passion and knew that they should take it in in all its glory.
I’m just typing now so I can look busy so this suspiciously friendly-looking guy won’t sit next to me. He looks like a chatter. Oh, wait. Okay, someone else sat next to him. Maybe they’re old friends. Speaking of friends, did I mention that Kaite really wants to come and visit? She said she will! I’m so excited! I really love her. I feel like our friendship is so wholesome and healthy. And maybe Talia can come and visit too! She wants to! It’s just the money thing, but if I can get a job, then I can save too, and it will help. I want her to come and see everything!
1/8/2020
Happy birthday to me! I’m 25 😱 It’s so weird to me that I’m a quarter of a century old! I don’t like my birthday, but today is wonderful. Emily made it so amazing! I’ve never had a birthday like this before. She filled the living room with balloons, and got me a cake (she and the boys came in singing with the candles lit, and I almost cried), and oh my goodness, she got me a violin. Like, that’s such a sweet present, and I can’t even ???? I don’t know! It’s like, this is the kindest thing in the world, and I feel so humbled and grateful that she would get this for me. Now I can play again. I’ve missed it so much, and sure, I’ve played with my family and stuff, but never just for me. So now I can, and I’m really excited! It’s not a good violin, but that’s okay. I can work with whatever instrument I have— not for nothing have I done my time at the school of hard knocks, aka CKC Music. Actually, I think I’m going to get it out and tune it now!
01/09/2020
I had the most amazing birthday yesterday! I got a lovely gift, and then we had cake, and then we chilled for a bit, and then Emily and I got dinner at our favorite restaurant, and then we went to Indee’s for a little while to catch up and collect the boys, and then we all went out for drinks, and then we came home and got cozy and had pizza and whiskey and played games! It was the perfect birthday, really, like it had a bit of everything— yummy food, alcohol, music, going out, being home, being at a friend’s house, and most importantly, CAT! Indee has a cat named Foxy, and she’s the sweetest creature. We got to play with her for a little while, and it was really nice. I don’t think I could ask for a better birthday. I can’t believe Emily set all of this up for me! It’s so sweet and thoughtful and kind, and it makes me feel so loved.
I have pizza downstairs, and I’m not hungry yet, but I know I have it, and that’s such a cheerful and happy thought. It’s bacon and pineapple, two of my favorite toppings (pineapple is actually my number one favorite), and it’s greasy and delicious and perfect for the mini hangover I have. I’m surprised I’m not more hungover, actually, considering how much I drank. I think I spaced it out well, so I didn’t get too wasted, just nicely tipsy and enthusiastic. Which is good— that’s exactly what I want. My days of sloppy drunkenness are behind me! But anyway, I hope no one ate my pizza. I would be sad. It’s okay, though, I mean Ethan bought it, so he really does have the right to eat it (and I’m assuming that if anyone ate it, it was him). I hope it’s still there, though.
I’m going to start making ads to sell myself as a violin teacher. I’ll charge £15 per lesson (£30 if they want an hour) and I’ll go to them. That should be enticing, hopefully. I want to earn money! This should help, though.
01.13.2020
It’s the first day of school! I had a class on Quantitative Methods this morning, which is basically statistics. I’m excited, because we’re going to do a lot of coding in R., and I learned how to do some of that in Ohio. I don’t know if I remember, but I’m going to do my best! I was good at it back then, so hopefully I can pick it up easily and it will be fine. I need to do well in this class. I failed one last quarter because I didn’t go to it basically after week 5, and I never turned anything in. So it’ll be bad if I fail another one! I have to get this degree. It’s important! I think I can do it, though. Unless something goes horribly wrong with my assessments, I think I’ll definitely pass. I need to calm down. I think I freak out way too easily. Anxiety is really that bitch, isn’t it?
When I get home, I’m going to finish my energy drink that I started this morning, and then I’m going to take a nap. I’m so tired. Unless, though, there is one caveat— Emily ordered a new sex toy 🌚 it would be fun to try it out! So if it’s arrived when I get home, we can test to make sure it works. You gotta! I hope it has arrived, actually. I would rather have sex than sleep pretty much always. She ordered another thing, too, but it’s a surprise, so I don’t know what to expect. But I super can’t wait for her to use the paddle on me. Or I guess I could use it on her, but I would be afraid of hurting her, whereas I like being hurt a bit, so there’s no problem there. Hehehehe this will be fun as hell, and I’m excited!
I have another class at 4PM today, and I already know I won’t want to go to it. But that’s okay. I’ll just look forward to after, because we’re all going to Wetherspoons (or “Spoons” as we affectionately call it), which has greasy food and cheap alcohol in abundance. It’s a local favorite, and is much beloved by the members of our household. I’m going to smuggle in some of the Carolina Reaper chili jam that Emily bought me for Christmas and make my food have some flavor. I think I’ll get fish and chips. I unironically love this quintessential british food now, especially now that I know that you’re meant to put salt and vinegar on it. I thought you were supposed to eat it plain for awhile, so I didn’t see the appeal, but now I know that it’s delicious and greasy and unhealthy and delightful. Maybe I’ll get something else, but probably not. Fish and chips always hit.
I made burgers for dinner last night for Emily and the boys. They all loved them, and I was so proud! They like my cooking! I mean, they would probably eat anything (especially Ethan), but I’m glad to give them something that they like. It was so adorable how excited they all were when I called them into the kitchen to assemble their burgers. And to be fair, those burgers were fantastic. I made them from lean beef, but I put in milk to make them juicy, and I flavored them with chopped onion, garlic, parsley, salt and pepper, and Worcestershire sauce. Then I browned them by pan-frying, and once the juices had caramelized a bit, I popped them in the oven with some cheese on top and let them soak up the pan juices.
01.16.2020
I’m on the bus, waiting to go home from school. I tried to make it to my first class this morning, but I guess I didn’t leave early enough, because the dang bus kept me waiting so long that by the time I got to campus, it was already almost half-past. So I didn’t go to that one, but I did go to my discussion section, and it’s good that I did, because we’re learning R now! I learned some in Ohio, and I was quite good at it, actually, if I do say so myself, but I’ve forgotten a lot, or probably, pretty much everything. So it’ll be nice to learn it again, and maybe retain some of it this time. I’m also glad that I went because I feel like I’m getting my life back on track. Last quarter was pretty tough, but I think I’m going to do better this time. I have to! I mean, I can’t possibly do worse, right? 🤞 It’ll be fine. I got this.
I have literally no evidence for this, but I’m scared that Emily is annoyed with me. In fact, I have evidence to the contrary. But you know how brains are; they tell us things, and we just sort of have to tell them to not do that. Anxiety is fun! But it’s just anxiety, and I can recognize this. Instead of falling into a funk and creating an actual problem, I’m going to deal with this perceived problem and try to untwist my thinking. Because really, I have more evidence that everything is good than I do evidence that something’s wrong. So I just need to be vigilant, and be aware of my own thought patterns, and not go looking for issues when none exist. I think I do that often. I get so anxious that I withdraw, or I take what I perceive to be affirmative action, and I push people away, and it makes things worse. Like, I feel like I often convince myself that people don’t like me, and then through my actions, I cause them to not like me. Silly, isn’t it? It’s the whole isolationist mentality— no one can hurt me if I hurt them first, and then disappear and hide forever! I need to get better about that. It’s not a good habit.
This year, I want to be kinder. That was my resolution, and I intend to keep it. Of course, that means I have to be kinder to myself, too, as my ongoing quest is to be authentic. I feel like a fake sometimes (or all the time), but if I stay true to myself and don’t pretend to be anything I’m not, how can I be faking it? I did get into this school, and I am doing my best, and I can’t be anything other than what I am. Maybe some people are better at certain things than I am, but also, I’m better at some things than they are, so there’s that. I’m smart! I do well when I can focus. It’s just really hard to do that sometimes (or all the time). I really do think I have some pretty severe ADHD. My attention is super polarized— either I can’t read a single sentence, or I’m zoomed in so hard that I don’t even realize that hours are passing by. If I could control it, it would be great. Like, can I just apply that hyperfocus most of the time, and flightiness when I need that? I’m great at parties, because I flit around and do several things at once, and I’m never boring, but that’s not useful when I’m trying to read an article and the words won’t go into my brain. I can read them, but I’ll have no idea what they say. It’s like they’re swimming around my brain, but drowning before I can make sense of them. Wow, that was poetic! I think I need to get evaluated. If there was a way for me to focus, can you imagine how unstoppable I would be? If I knew that it wouldn’t all be in vain, if studying wasn’t so painful and frustrating, if I was able to do what I know I’m cognitively capable of— well, damn. I don’t know how people do it. I really don’t.
I think another side effect is that I’m bored all the time. It’s hard for things to capture my interest, so I’m only ever looking at things on the surface. So then I don’t get that deep information that I want, because I really do want to know everything about everything, and it seems boring. But also, some things just /are/ boring. And for me, if something is boring, I don’t pay attention to it at all. I’m like a little kid who only wants to learn the things they like. Or new things, I can do that too— but things like YA literature or bicycle maintenance are just so fricken boring that it’s all I can do to make conversation. I don’t care about these fantasy books. Stop telling me about them. I don’t mind talking about other literature! I love literature! But I have a beef with spec fiction, and I don’t care if people call me a snob for it. It’s /bad/! Oh my goodness, I tried to read Emily’s favorite book, The Foxhole Court, and it was awful, holy shit. It was so badly written, and the characterization was hollow, and the plot was contrived, and I just couldn’t even finish it. And that’s one of the only favorites of hers that I’d even be willing to read, because it’s the only one that’s not fantasy. I don’t like fantasy! I don’t like magic either! Science fiction is really hit-or-miss. It can be good, and I do love a good dystopia, but usually it’s too goofy and farfetched, and it takes itself way too seriously. Oh— maybe that’s one of my problems with YA lit. It does take itself very seriously, and in my opinion, it shouldn’t. Nabokov could get away with it because he’s Nabokov. But not everyone has that merit.
01.17.2020
Good morning! It’s going to be a nice day! I said so, and I am speaking it into being, so there. I have class at 3, but nothing else, which means I can devote the rest of the day to cleaning. Hell yeah! I do like cleaning. It’s so satisfying. I’m going to go brush my teeth and get some caffeine, so I’ll be right back.
I wish I could stop coughing! I feel like I keep waking Emily up. Hopefully the caffeine will help with that. I learned that from simulation! That is to say, the medical simulations for the Loma Linda students where I acted as a confederate to help them deal with real-life situations. It was pretty interesting listening to what they were saying. I learned some medical things, and now I know when and how to intubate someone!
I feel like I’m getting my period much more frequently now. I wonder if that’s a problem. I just looked at my tracking app, and my cycle seems to be highly irregular. One time it was 55 days. Now it’s 25. And the average is about 30. So I don’t know. I guess on average, it’s normal, but I had two periods in December, and I don’t think that’s right. I wish I didn’t have to have periods at all. It’s so annoying. When I was a kid, I used it to comfort myself in order to uphold some internalized cisnormative ideas, because— oof, now that was dysphoria, wasn’t it :) I’m sure it wasn’t as bad as other people have it, but I did have those days where I was positive that I was a boy, and nothing could change my mind. And then I had to “convince” myself that I was truly a girl, but it never really worked, because deep down, I knew I wasn’t. Which is okay! I can accept that now. I’m still unlearning stuff, but it’s nice to realize that I don’t have to be cis, and that’s just fine. The problem is that I don’t dare transition fully. I don’t want to open myself up to the difficulties and discrimination I would have to face if I did. I mean, even if I got an X on my driver’s license, cops would give me a harder time, and I wouldn’t be able to get away with speeding or anything like that, because if I got pulled over, I wouldn’t be able to flirt my way out of it. And that’s a mild example. Can you imagine the havoc if I asked for they/them pronouns? I can’t. And it’s not like it’s bad to be closeted, I mean it feels weird and wrong when people refer to me as a girl or use she/her pronouns, but I just have to keep reminding myself that they’re talking about me, and then it’s okay. I can pretend that I’m a secret spy on a secret mission, and I can’t blow my cover. And Emily and Talia and my friends support me, so it’s okay. I know that if I asked them, they would refer to me in whatever way I wanted. I just can’t ask that of them, not yet. Maybe in a few years.
I need to start putting up flyers for my music business. I haven’t, because everything seems to be happening, and the days just aren’t long enough when it gets dark at 4PM, and frankly, I’m a lazy bum, but I really do need to, because I need money. My lifestyle can’t support itself on no income. Mind you, I’m not doing anything extravagant. I’m just buying necessities for me and Emily. But that costs money, and my supply is dwindling, since I’m trying to save. Oh actually, okay. So I just transferred $1000 into my savings account (i.e. the account that I don’t use because I lost the card for it and I haven’t gotten a new one), and hopefully that will keep me afloat if I need it, because if it’s not in my main account, I won’t spend it. I’m emulating Kaite now! She has $1000 in savings at all times, and I think that’s very important. So I’ll keep that there as a nest egg, and use what I have for living expenses until I can get a job. Excellent! It’s really nice to have money again.
I’m on the bus! I’m so cold Or rather, my hands are cold. They seem to be the only part of me that consistently gets cold. I wish I had remembered to charge my vape, but that’s okay. That makes me sound like a douchebag LOL but I guess I am, a little. But aren’t we all? I wish the bus would go, but not really, because I want the bus driver to have a break. It must suck having to do this all day. I hope this isn’t some kind of weird premonition where I end up as a bus driver. I think I’m having it. I’m having the premonition. Oh no. But wait! You have to be good at driving to be a bus driver. I’m an LA driver. I’m safe!
Why am I anxious? Let’s think about it. Maybe I’m worried about money. I have some, but not enough. I need a job, desperately. I’ll do anything that’s physically possible for me, but I don’t know how to get it. No one seems to want to hire me.
01.20.2020
Here I am again; I’m high at a bus stop trying to go to class, and preparing myself to be late, because I got lost going back to my house so I could use the wifi to buy a bus ticket. My dumb ass forgot! Also, it’s sort of concerning that my phone doesn’t work without wifi anymore. I can’t even use maps. It’s not good. I think I should call T-Mobile, except I’m not supposed to be using it in Europe without a new plan, so it might be hard to get away with that.
I think I pissed off my bus driver. I didn’t see him pull up behind the other bus, so he almost drove away, and I had to run up to him and get on. I feel bad :( I was too busy looking at my phone. My earbuds stopped working, so I was trying to figure out what was going on. I guess it’s okay, though. I made it onto the bus, and I don’t have to get off for awhile, so maybe someone else will be annoying, and he’ll forget. I can hope!
It’s so weird to me that I live in York. Like, people come here for tourism. Richard III was born here. It’s ridiculously old. And somehow I live here? I’m from /LA/, man. This is strange and bizarre. I guess it’s pretty cool, though. It’s like a YA novel. Wait. Is my life a YA novel? Damn. I couldn’t be In Search or Lost Time or something? This sucks. But at least I guess I’ll get my happy ending. Or maybe not. Maybe I’ll die tragically. Who can say? At any rate, I do live in the most historic city I’ve /ever/ lived in, and it’s super dope. I still haven’t been on the walls, but someday I will. I /have/ been to the railway station, which is apparently a big deal for the train enthusiasts among us, and I’ve been to Popworld, which isn’t historic, but should be. All in all, it’s a nice place. I do wish the university was closer, but I guess that’s my own fault for living near the /other/ university. I feel a bit bad, because it seems to be less prestigious and less well established than mine, and judging from what people say, and their reactions when I say what I do, it’s very much of a stark difference between the two. Like, I mean. I’m basically the cream of the crop, academically speaking. Someone has to lie on their CV because they failed math five (5) times. There’s a difference there, and it’s not subtle. But it’s not to say that I’m smarter, or they’re dumber; I’m as dumb as a sack of rocks. I just have a good resume. Which does make me feel like the outsider in some regards, and so does the fact that I have different interests and a different worldview than they do. They’re fine with only interacting with six or seven people in their social circle, and reading and playing D and D on a fun social night. And that’s cool! That’s fine and cool, and there’s nothing wrong with that. But like, I have fifty people on my wedding guest list A already, and lots more options for list B, and my idea of a fun social night involves more interaction, and dancing, and possibly cocaine. Not for me, but for those with that proclivity. It’s just /different/, you know. I was popular in high school (or at least, people thought I was, which is possibly even better), and I don’t want to go out on a limb here, but I’m going to venture to say that this is not a universal experience. And I’m not trying to humble brag, like “oh look at me, I’m so extroverted and popular!” and I’m not trying to sound rude. It just really is somewhat isolating. That, and it’s hard being the only person of color in the entire friend group. I’m not being coy when I say that no one understands. They can’t. It’s not their experience, and they don’t have a way of conceptualisant it. Which is fine, and of course I’m not blaming them. But I do feel isolated in a way that they can’t even understand.
I’m going to be so late to class. I wish I hadn’t forgotten to get my bus ticket. It’s okay. It’s just a mistake, and it isn’t the end of the world. Since it won’t matter in five years, I’m not going to stress about it.
So I ended up getting on the wrong bus, and I was too late to reasonably go to class, so I’m coming back. How annoying. I wasted a perfectly good outfit today. Although, Emily and I are going out for dinner, so that’s okay, I suppose. Still, I’m upset with myself. I was going to do better this quarter. I’ll email my professor, but wow, I’m embarrassed. Why do I do these things? I think it’s because I don’t pay attention to anything. I always figure I can make it up on the fly, or bullshit my way through it, or learn it really quickly, or just plain get away with it by virtue of who I am as a person. And usually, it works, but things like this happen all the time. Wow, okay, I’m realizing things. That thing where I have to be picking or tapping my fingers or biting my nails or otherwise getting some kind of stimulation in some way? That thing where I have to get up sometimes, because if I don’t, I’ll explode? That’s ADHD, baby! And my thoughts don’t slow down, and they don’t settle on anything, and even the slightest sign of rejection incapacitates me, and I’m so bored all the time, but I can’t focus on anything, not unless it’s really inconvenient, and then I can’t stop focusing on it, and it’s so horrible, so much all the time, and it doesn’t ever stop. It never goes away, not even in my dreams. So imagine if I could pay more attention to things. Imagine if I had treatment for this. I’m legitimately angry, actually. If people had believed me, if I’d gotten treatment years ago, I would be doing so much better now. I would have sailed through high school and college. I probably wouldn’t have made such stupid choices. I wouldn’t be who I am now, but isn’t that better? I would be happier and healthier. People talk about how suffering is so important, and how we can’t deny or wish away the mentally ill parts of ourselves, and to some extent I agree, but wouldn’t it be better if it could have been alleviated? Not magically cured, just, like... medicated. But there’s no point focusing on what-ifs. That’s not productive, and doesn’t change anything, so I should think about what I want to be, accepting everything that I’ve done and been through.
It’s hard work becoming who I want to be! Everything is a choice, and it’s hard to make the right one. I tend to want to do what’s easiest, but that’s not a good way to live. I can’t stay stagnant if I want to get better. It sounds obvious, but I think it’s something that I need to remember. Everything I do should be goal-oriented in some way. Oh! Maybe it’s possible for me to get addicted to work. I have an addictive personality for sure, so maybe I could immerse myself in that. That would be good, right? I mean, probably not good for me, but good in the grand scheme of things. It will allow me to be emotionally unavailable. No, wait, I don’t want that. I want to be available. I want to have a heart overflowing with availability. I think I’m shallow. I have so much love to give, but it’s one-sided in a way, because I don’t give people the same access to me that they grant from themselves. It’s all about the other person, and for some people, that works, but it’s not a healthy way to live. I want to stick close to the people who care about me, and want me to care about me, too. They’re the ones I want in my life.
My back hurts like a motherfucker. I’m not sure why, but it’s all in knots in this one specific area, all down my left-hand side. What if I’m developing a degenerative disease? I’m too young! I’m only twenty-five, and I wanted to live at least three more years! (No, I’m merely jesting, my good friends; I intend to live much longer than that) But really, I don’t know if it’s something I should be worried about or not. It doesn’t do this with any degree of frequency. This is just a one-off occurrence. But maybe that makes it all the more dire? I don’t know.
Oh wow, I realized that all my irritating habits could be prevented if I had a fidget toy with me at all times. I guess that’s something I need to remember. I have a fidget cube, so I can carry that around with me, and maybe I can wear a hair tie on my wrist so I can play with that. I hope it will help. I wonder if my constant need for stimulation is related to anything. Is it ADHD? I think it is, right? If it’s not, it’s something annoying, anyway.
What other Deep Realizations can I have? The bus is a great place to have them. There’s nothing else to do. I long for the days when I could use data! I guess it‘s good for my social media-addicted self, but it’s boring, and I hate being bored. I think that’s typical of the ENFP type. You know, at first I was mad that it changed from INTP, but now I’m just going to embrace it. It’s okay to be the way I am! Mom has a dislike for flighty extroverts, and I think that view colored my perception of myself, and I tried to be something else for a really long time. I really wanted to embody the INTP stereotype. It held me back in a lot of ways! I could have been having a much better time all these years. Well, that’s okay. I can be truer to myself now.
01.21.2020
Good morning! I woke up at 7:45 because I was going to be productive, and I wasn’t productive, but I did stay awake, so that’s something. I do like mornings. They’re so fresh and full of possibilities. And I have more energy, so that’s a good thing. I’m definitely a morning person. When I’m not horribly depressed, daytime is for getting things done, and nighttime is either for curling up in bed like an old man or going out on the town and getting energy from doing shots with strangers. Quite a difference there. It’s fun, though. I embody dichotomy in my very soul. I think I’ll go see if my coffee is ready yet.
It was ready! Now I have caffeine, and I’m dressed (albeit in house clothes), and I’m ready to get this thing done. What thing, you ask, and to that, I must say I have no idea. But something, and do it I shall.
Emily is so cute omg like she sometimes just rolls over and cuddles up to me while she’s still asleep, and my heart explodes. I feel like an oaf sometimes, and I wonder why she keeps me around, but I think everyone feels that way to some extent, and also, a lot of it is just anxiety. I do have a lot of anxiety. Yesterday, I was afraid she was going to break up with me. I don’t think that’s very accurate, because she then started talking about our future plans together, but you know how it is. Speaking of future plans, I think I’ve decided to do a doctorate in clinical psychology. Linguistics is wonderful, but I don’t think I was made to be an academic after all. Why not use my shitty experiences to help people? That’s all I want. Even when I was imagining myself as a professor, I imagined helping my students through personal problems more than I imagined teaching. I’m going to look at some programs and see what I can see.
So it looks like, unless I can somehow get into Cambridge, my options are to either go to a second-rate school, or work for a year and get the clinical experience required to go to UCL or any of the schools I have my eye on (mostly UCL). Which wouldn’t be bad. If I could get a paid position, I could support me and Emily whilst still getting the experience I need. So I think that’s my best bet, since I highly doubt I could get into Cambridge. Who knows, but probably not. I may have a good resume, but it’s not /that/ good. I wonder whom I can ask for letters of recommendation. I guess there’s always Jesse (Dr. Harris to those not privileged enough to work in his lab), and I can ask my advisor here, but my attendance was so bad last quarter that I can’t ask anyone else yet. It has to be someone who knows my work, and who knows me in a good light, and that’s hard, because lately, I haven’t been doing very good work. I get done what I need to do, but it’s not as good as I could do. I think I’m really in a bind, because if I can’t get good letters of recommendation, I’m basically sunk. Oh! I wonder if I could get one from Terry Swenson. I’ve worked for him, so he knows how I do, and I’m pretty sure he doesn’t entirely hate me at least, so maybe I could get a stock letter with a signature stamp on the bottom. Okay, that’s a good idea. I’ll ask him. But I can’t waste it. I have to be sure of getting in. And there’s no guarantee that I can get into Cambridge. I really want to apply, though! Just to see if I can, you know. And imagine if I did! It would make me look so good on my resume, and it would make it that much easier to find work immediately, especially since I’m sure they take care of their own. I suppose I would have to stay in the UK, at least for a few years, postdoc, but that’s not bad. If I can be successful, shouldn’t I go for it? But am I really okay with only seeing Talia and my friends once or twice a year at most? I have no doubt that I would quickly make new friends if I could get out of the house more often, so I wouldn’t be lonely, but I would miss my little (“little”) social circle so much. When I think about it, though, that part of my life is over. It’s as clear as the sun in the sky. I’m going to make a new life for myself. Same me— sort of— but it’s a new story. Omg I feel like Jean Valjean 🙏
Okay! So I had a Moment, and it was super Cancer rising of me. Now, I need to channel that Capricorn sun and get shit done. Ooh what if my accent changes? Okay, no, I need to focus. So, let’s plan this out.
The key is getting healthy, because I only have myself to depend on, and I have to be in good shape. So I need to start doing yoga and going to counseling and getting my medications ordered on time and maybe even eating breakfast more than once in a blue moon when I go out for it. Actually, I have a shit ton of bad habits that I need to kick. My oh my, I’ve been a natural disaster. I feel like I’m finally waking up, either from a bad dream, or more like from a dissociative episode where I created bad consequences for myself without really knowing what I’m doing. Although, the only real consequences are financial, and that’s bad, but it’s also better than a prison record or something. I’m lucky. Actually, now that I think about it, I am extraordinarily lucky. I pretty much won the genetic lottery, my mom is rich (or middle-class, which pragmatically speaking amounts to the same thing), most people like me and go out of their way to help me, and I seem to be able to charm my way into getting anything I want. My faults are laziness, impulsivity, pride, vanity, stubbornness, selfishness, manipulativeness, and many others, but those are the main ones that other people would identify, I think. I’m basically a spoiled princess. How do people not hate me? Jesus. On this note, I think I will continue with my “searching and fearless moral inventory” so subscribed to by the AA crowd. What are my good traits? Loyalty, courage, resilience, adaptability, charm, love and kindness, intelligence, but I’m also a dumbass, so maybe not that. I have some good traits, I suppose. I wonder how an author (like a good author, not like Bukowski or someone) would describe me if they were writing about me. Like, do I have a brand? I need to have a brand. I think it’s easier here, because I can be the spoiled party girl from California, whereas everyone back home is the spoiled party girl from California, so it’s a lot less effective. I’m unique here even from the moment I open my mouth, and I think I can use that to my advantage.
What other traits do I have? This is interesting. I feel like a D and D character. I think I’m weird. Like, not in a quirky way, just in a really weird way. I mean, I’m normal compared to Xander, though. He’s /really/ weird. I feel really bad for him, actually. Like, how do you even get that weird? Oh... trauma... damn, we really had a bad childhood I don’t know about Xander, but Talia and I were abused, and we were all neglected, and we were literally starving, dirty, and dressed in rags. That’s bad LOL like that’s not normal! I have to laugh about it, because it’s so bad. Like, it’s ridiculous how bad it was. I’m pretty sure I was in a dissociative state for half of it, and I flat-out don’t remember the rest. Ooh. I’m realizing things. In this family, I’m the one who pushes the envelope, in a way. I’m the one who introduces new things to the household. I was the one who dared to ask to go to school, and who dared to get their mental health checked. I brought the “outside world” in when I was thirteen-ish by immersing myself in pop culture, which none of us had experienced. We lived literally like kids in the 1920s. When I started listening to Avril Lavigne, it was scandalous. I felt like I was carrying out a cultural revolution by myself. Well, no. Not by myself. I always had Talia. She backed me up in all my ideas, and supported me no matter what. I’m so lucky to have her for a sister. How did she end up so great, raised as she was in the hell that was our house? No one paid attention to her, just me, so she definitely must have had it worse than me. I was everyone’s favorite, I got all the attention (little of it that there was), and I got everything I asked for. It’s only due to my own ethical code that I rarely asked for anything. I was simultaneously spoiled and neglected. It’s so hard to admit that. Why don’t I want to admit that I’m basically a spoiled brat? I suppose no one wants to admit that. How hard must it have been for Talia, though, living in my shadow. I never even realized it. Why doesn’t she resent me? Hmm. I always did try to share what I had with her. If, hypothetically, Mom gave me a cookie, I would give her half of it. I vaguely remember trying to smuggle food out of Sunday school for her and getting in trouble for it. I have selfish instincts, but I always do share what I have, even though it goes against the grain, and that’s one of the few ways in which I don’t immediately indulge my instincts to do what I want, when I want it. I think that was brought on by necessity. I had to be a surrogate parent at a too-young age, so I learned a bit of how to be selfless and how to take care of others. I wouldn’t say I learned a lot, but perhaps more than some of my peers. I wish I’d had structure and discipline as a kid, like, at all. The only time we were ever disciplined (not punished; that happened all the time) was when I implemented a “mark chart” to monitor good and bad behavior. Since I was nine years old, the system was hopelessly reductionistic and would never be sanctioned by any mom worth her salt on Pinterest, but it was the best I could do with what I had. It was still better than what our dad did, which was either nothing, or overly stringent punishment.
You know, though, even with Dad, somehow I still managed to get what I wanted. I remember one time when we were coming home from somewhere, and we wanted to stop at the Asian market. Dad said no, and Talia, Anselm, and Xander all tried to persuade him otherwise. There was a bit of a pause, and then I spoke up. I don’t remember what I said, but I do know that Dad, grumbling a little bit, immediately changed lanes to take the turn to the store. Talia said something about how she was glad that I was so persuasive. I didn’t think anything of it, but now I’m seeing a pattern that I never even bothered to look for. It’s only my personality that kept me from becoming a total asshole. I just decided not to be. Holy shit, man. I could have been /terrible/. I’m not saying I’m so great right now, but I could be a lot worse, too. I think I’m okay despite literally everything about my upbringing. I’m like, an adult who was raised by a child. Because, well, I was. I’m so glad I’m smart, like kids are such idiots. Imagine if I’d been any more idiotic. I’m not trying to be dramatic, but I think the household would have collapsed. But you know, I’m also quite developmentally delayed, emotionally and mentally speaking. Not intellectually, more like... I find it hard to get close to people, because I only fully trust one person in this entire world, and I developed a severe alcohol problem because I couldn’t process my feelings in a healthy way. Things like that. Oh damn, so that’s true, I guess. Talia is the only person I trust unconditionally. There’s no one else. Not even Emily. Is that because of my past history? The only times I ever heard “I love you” in my early years were tainted, and then in high school and the start of college, it was all from men I was dating.
01.22.2020
So, guess who has a shiny rock on their finger now 💍 this bitch!
In other words!!! She proposed!!!! I can hardly believe it, but we’re going to get married. Oh my gosh. I knew this was coming, sort of, but I didn’t know when or how, and it was absolutely perfect. It happened last night when we went out for cocktails. She was going to take me to a cute bar that we went to for my birthday, because there would be people around to fuel my attention-loving vanity, but it would still be somewhat quiet. But I got anxious and thought she was mad at me, because she was acting a little weird, so she popped the question at a different bar. No one was around, but that’s okay. It made the moment more special somehow. Here’s the basic gist of what she said:
“I know I’ve been acting weird the past few days, and there’s a reason for that. I love you so much, and you make me happier than I’ve ever been. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, so... (pulls out the box) will you marry me?”
At this point, I jumped up and hugged and kisses her, practically crying, and of course I said yes. I can’t believe it! I’m really engaged! I’m going to get married to the love of my life and we’re going to spend the rest of our lives as a unit! It’s going to happen! I never thought I would have this. I’ve never loved anyone like this before. My thotty hoe-ass self never thought it would be this easy to settle down. But it’s the easiest thing in the world, really, because I’m settling down with Emily. I’m going to be a wife! And I’m going to /have/ a wife! Omg I can’t wait, like I truly do wish it could happen already, only I want to enjoy my engagement for awhile, too, and I want to plan a lovely princess wedding.
I wonder what dress I should wear. I want it to be pink. Should I order online? I feel like that’s prone to mishaps, but it’s much cheaper, and I could get it altered.
01.23.2020
Good morning! I didn’t finish writing yesterday, because I was too excited! I was texting people and squealing with joy and bouncing around and excitedly downing shots of every alcohol in the house, and also sleeping for five hours during the day because I stayed up until 6AM texting people and bouncing around and excitedly downing shots of every alcohol in the house. I’m getting /married/! This bitch is getting hitched 👰🏻 I already asked Jocelynn and Kaite to be bridesmaids (and they said yes, of course), and I asked Trisha, but I haven’t gotten a response yet. I wonder if she’ll say no :( she better not! She was a bridesmaid for Natella, so I feel like it would be sad if she didn’t want to be mine. I’m also going to ask Irene and Marissa, and of course Talia will be my maid of honor. This is for the US, of course. We’re having two weddings, sort of. We’ll actually tie the knot here, and then renew our vowels in the US. And party in both places, of course! I think in the US, we could just go out for drinks with ten or so of our closest friends (family can come too, I suppose), but here, I think Emily’s family would like it if we had a fun reception— of course with a open bar!
I don’t know how it happened, but I’m a real adult now. I’m literally a quarter of a century old. And somehow, my life is and isn’t like the way I’d imagined an adult’s life to be when I was a kid. LOL I just sat for a second, looking up to see when traffic would start again so I could go! I miss driving :( It’s cool to be on the bus, since I can get high and journal and chill, but it would be much quicker to drive. Like, 45 minutes quicker. Okay, so I have a question. Does my driver’s license’s validity here expire when my visa does? Or is it a year after I arrive? What if I have to drive a getaway car and my license is expired? I’m the only one in the house who can. Or, maybe Jordan can. Or Erin? I think someone can, but they don’t have their license. Oh, that’s worse. So, yes. Functionally, I’m the only one who’s allowed to drive. That means I would be driving the getaway car, and like. People in England don’t seem okay that’s wrong, so I’m going to just redact myself in the middle of that sentence. I could probably just flirt my way out of it.
Omg how fuckin RAD is it that I live in a city that just casually has houses from the 15th century???? 😎 also, tell me why I capitalized ‘city’ ? Am I secretly German? I think it’s because English is a Germanic language. I posit an underlying orthographic form. Chomsky would be proud of me!
Some people just /do/ things. (Jonathan Van Ness voice) Can you believe! It’s wild to me. Like, if I need to do something, I need at least an hour’s notice, which I will spend wastefully until the very last second. It’s a good system, but I wonder if it could be improved somehow. I really need to get diagnosed with ADHD already. Sorry, don’t mind me, just staring wistfully out the window because Life in the Vivid Dream came on, and I was filled with a tender yet poignant sense of yearning for a world unknown. I’m back now though. So I just realized that I’m super anxious. Why? It’s just class. Is this the mortifying ordeal of being known? I’m trying to pinpoint what I’m anxious about so I can analyze it, but I’m just coming up with “everything.” That’s not super helpful. Okay, let’s think. Like, I look cute. Or at least, my hair does. But I’m not entirely positive about my outfit, so that’s not good. I think it might be too business casual (mixed with 1950s housewife). Maybe that’s making me anxious. Or maybe it’s because I’m utterly unprepared. I didn’t do the reading, and I haven’t been to any of the prosody lectures yet. It might even be a discussion. Oh no. Okay, so I definitely should have worn black shoes. Not only are my nude pumps super gross, they also make my black coat look incongruous. Also, I probably shouldn’t have worn my black coat. But I have to soldier on, right? Be brave and accept the fact that you might have an ugly outfit. Is this one of those martyr’s trials that the pastors always warned us about?
