1:43 a.m. - 12.03.2008
periodically elbow me in the face
I feel this really strong urge to do whatever I want lately. I mean I always feel like I want to do what I want to do, because why would you not feel that way? But I mean I feel like I haven't been doing what I REALLY want to do as much as I would, in retrospect, have wanted to do it.
Like:
Staying up late: I used to stay up late allll the time. Watching tv, drawing, reading, internetting, wandering, snacking. All that. I've been sleeping like 10-12 hours every night for awhile now and going to sleep whenever Brett goes to sleep. While I feel that it may not be a good thing for our relationship to always go to bed at different times, I need to stay up late. I'm cutting out a lot of my me-time by sleeping so much.
Being creative: I've never been what you'd call a prolific artist, but damn. Do something. Anything! Stop staring at this damned computer screen, waiting for someone you don't even care about or barely know to comment on your facebook wall. STOP THIS.
Exploring: I feel that if I were by myself in a strange place, I would explore more. I think I'm being complacent about it because I've gotten it in my head that outdoor activities (meaning any activity outside my apartment) is something to be experienced by more people than just me. This is stupid. I can do things by myself. In fact, I often enjoy them more in some ways. I should just go for drives and sit in parks by myself. I should ride my bike more during the day on the weekends because that really makes me feel happy. I should go see a movie by myself and eat a hot dog.
Keeping in touch with people I care about: I've been taking small steps to do this. That's good. I want to take all my favorite people in my life that I've met and keep them close so that I can visit them and hang out with them and get updates on their lives and feel like I have a place in the world instead of some meaningless void of wandering around making temporary acquaintances.
(side note) I feel that when I start taking charge of my life and being indignant about doing what I want when I want, is when my boyfriend-type relationships fall apart. I wish there could be a happy medium where I'm not just catering to someone else's lifestyle, and forgetting my own way of life, and the polar opposite: completely ignoring the other person's existence. I want this to work. Please don't mess it up. Brett is so great, even if he does periodically elbow me in the face while he's sleeping. Which is why I'm awake right now.
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Also, I shouldn't drink so much. Or at least not so heavily. I could say something like, "I can have fun without drinking!" but then nights like tonight happen, and I realize that is a lie I would be telling myself.
We went to trivia night at some Irish bar downtown. This would be a pretty normal-sounding thing, except that downtown San Diego is oh, 30+ miles south of where I live. Quite the trek for trivia.
Sarah drove. She was running late, even though Brett and I are the ones with the jobs that we don't get home from until almost 6. But she was getting a spa treatment and haircut. Probably a very expensive one. Yes, annoying little tidbit #1.
She mentioned they accidentally paid her for a 12-hour shift at work that she didn't actually work. That's a lot of money. She makes a shitload of money. Money money money. She's obviously going to move back downtown after our lease is up, since she can afford it now. Then she can buy clothes constantly and get waxed and extracted and dyed and cut and pedicured and tanned and facialed and massaged and coffee drinks wherever she goes all the timed, and snobby wine bar-ed, and eating out every night-ed, and going to cheesy clubs all the time looking for guys wearing expensive jeans who are douches-ed.
When we left the bar, she hadn't gotten her parking validated and it was too late to do it by like 4 minutes. The parking booth lady asked if she had bought anything in the mall. All Sarah had to answer was "Yes" and she would have let us go for free. Instead she said "No". What the hell? She had to pay $20 for that no. She said she couldn't lie. I told her she could lie if she didn't have so much money.
I don't like brats. Sorry. I don't. It's annoying and I can't relate. I say that as though I haven't gotten any help from my mom or family. But there's still some sort of work-for-what-you-get ethic that I have. I don't logically think it's a virtue to be poor, but I do think it's a virtue to live modestly. And to be low-maintenance and not require 20,000 appointments just to keep yourself pretty.
We actually got into a fight before moving into this apartment, in part because Sarah said it was in a "run-down" part of town with a trailer park on one side and Mexican gardeners on the other. Mind you, we live in Encinitas, California, a couple blocks from the Pacific Ocean. There are palm trees and flowers and people riding their bikes. I don't exactly carry mace around with me wherever I go. I told her how condescending and prejudiced that sounded and she said something to the effect of how she grew up in row housing in Trenton, NJ down the block from crack dealers and that she's worked hard and put herself in a position to have something better now. She said it more than once with the exact same wording so I knew it was something she'd used before. Hmmm. Does working hard mean getting student loans for an egregiously expensive "Ivy League" school, while living off of your dad's credit card and not working AT ALL during the time you were in school? Wow. How impressive. You really clawed your way out of that ghetto you came from. Yes. The expensive sewing machine and $200 purse they just sent you in the mail is further proof that you grew up in poverty.
Anyway, trivia was okay. I was sitting underneath a speaker and not only could no one hear what I was saying, but they didn't even know I was trying to talk. I ate a club sandwich that was delicious, however and waited patiently for the moment I could go up to my bedroom and put my comfy pants on. Ahhh.
