tryin' like hell not to swear

Damn it.

I'm feeling the kind of aggression today that has to be burnt out, through long vigorous walks, singing loudly with music until I'm hoarse, and by swearing. Once it is sweated and cursed out of my blood I will use the resulting calm to uplift myself in scripture study and personal reflection, but until I finish screaming with Dashboard Confessional my mind won't sit still long enough to listen to my spirit. I feel like throwing my frickin' journal across the darn room.

Last night was so humiliating. I overheard Jared on the phone with Sarah. He mentioned he was going to give me a ride home. Her response (which I could hear quite plainly): "Oh Jared, you're so kind to her. It's so generous the way you take care of her." Did you hear the tone? For the love of peace, did you hear the belittling condescension? I did. And you know why it hurt so damn bad? Because it is what I think already! If she were to say to someone that I am a slut, I could laugh, because there is and never has been any truth in that. She could call me a liar without hurting my feelings, a gossip, stupid, whatever. But to hear in words what I fear is true, that I am a burden and a charity case, that went straight to the heart. I started crying in the car. Despite my embarrassment, I couldn't stop. The words that came to my head are worse than those I allow out now in continued frustration. I tried to explain to Jared just why I felt so hurt, and he tried to explain that he didn't mind giving me rides. But oh how my pride was wounded! and my pride is my favorite weakness.

Ask Bryan, my dear friend, and he will tell you how much like pulling teeth it is to get me to accept a ride, let alone ask for one. Hell, that's how he and I became friends: we got in a fight because he insisted on giving me a ride and I kept refusing. So I finally made a friend here and routinely accept help from him, and then a mutual acquaintance tells him he's generous for taking care of me! I almost called my mom that moment to buy the Honda Civic from her, even though I can't afford it. My pride would bankrupt me and be worth every penny.

Then today Nora let me know that my previous blog entry might look purposefully mean to Kevin were he to read it. Shit, I responded, glorying in my swearing to someone who won't look down on me for it. I didn't think what I wrote would be hurtful at all. Believe me, I have been hurtful on this blog on purpose and I succeeded. I can wield words with exceptional accuracy, but in this case it was ignorance, and I still can't see where I went wrong. I compared Jared's company to Dan's, but neither was a reflection on Kevin. But now I feel annoyed and angry at myself all over again, because there was truth in this second accusation too in all likelihood, and I'm still not retracting anything I've said, though I am sorry if it appears malicious. Hell.

date dichotomy

Last night felt like two separate nights: there was the bad date and the good one. It was not a continuum of time, but two wholly separate events, almost two entirely separate selves.

The first date was one which Jared threatened would come. I swore to him if he broadcast my availability I'd kill him. He didn't have to broadcast anything. His roommate asked me out. Jared thought it was funny; I told him I'd shank him. The date itself was everything I have come to fear and expect of first dates with those whom I could not see myself dating. Give 'em another chance I've been told, but people do not usually grow on me, and I don't see a point in subjecting myself a second time to that which I found so painful the first. There is no acquired taste with me. I did not find him attractive in the slightest. And it turns out, that's a big deal. We rode on his motorcycle, and I thanked my lucky stars that I am not at all afraid of riding, thus able to keep my hands at my side and not around his waist. Over dinner there were long silences while I tried to gnaw through the burnt bacon in my BLT. I did remember to say thanks, and I managed not to check the time, but relief swept me when he noted we had to get back to institute.

I didn't know however if that was included in the date, if I were tied to him for that much longer. Luckily by some divine intervention, we had numerically assigned seats, and afterward Viviane saved me when Dan just kept hovering. I tried to make the off-hand comment about how I was tired and had a lot to do still that night, e.g. grocery shopping, to see if Dan would take the hint. I don't know if he did, but Jared picked up on it, and that's where the night shifted.

Jared took me grocery shopping. I'm almost completely positive that doesn't count as a date. But it felt like one. I mean, come on, we even danced in the aisles just a little bit. He didn't pay for the groceries but he bought the food at McDonald's afterward. We talked and laughed and flirted and touched and argued over which cereal was best. I talked with him without script or brain-racking. He flirts so ostentatiously that it's completely innocuous, and while I'm not quite sure what exactly to do with that, we're both okay with him laughing at me for blushing. If all dates were like that one, I wouldn't mind them so much. I think the best part was that it wasn't really a date at all, and I could enjoy my time casually with a friend.

freaky friday

My mother has switched bodies with...Ted.

That's the only explanation for two phenomena. The first is that Ted, noting my distress on Tuesday, did not try to badger me into peace, but told me he loves me. This I know, but he has only said it once before, and it meant a lot.

The second phenomenon is that my mom lectured me today when I told her about my date last night. I felt chastised and slighted when she tried to give advice. It really would have sufficed for her to say: "Hey, dating is hard. Way to get back up on that horse. I'm glad you had fun. And that was smart of you not to kiss him. What are your plans this weekend?" But she lectured me, when I think overall I am very aware and in this instance I was extremely well behaved. I felt like I was bashing my head against a brick wall...you know, the way I feel with Ted.

my cheeriest poem this week

with the cadence of "Noisy Nora"

The movie's not as funny
as it seemed to be last time.
I may not be laughing,
but not crying means I'm fine.

I had a quite relaxing day
with enough time to enjoy
those painlessly lapsed hours
on my bed with no employ.

My friends were on the river.
I was invited to attend,
but I avoided sunburn.
And who needs time with friends?

I managed to go shopping,
a chore put off 'til now,
but I made it home with only
chocolate and no chow.

I find it's to be expected
I'm not always at my best,
but if I didn't know better,
I'd say that I'm depressed.

At first I avoided showering
but then I showered twice.
I couldn't find a way to pass
the time that was as nice.

I didn't want to talk at all,
but I waited by the phone.
While company's annoying,
it's an improvement on "alone."

I didn't stop to eat a meal,
for nothing sounded good.
I've always found hot cocoa
a good substitute for food.

I found the inspiration
with direction from my muse,
but each new poem written
sounded darker and confused.

I guess I needed time
to myself in which to rest--
I'm just not used to being
emotionally distressed--
but if I had to admit it,
and I will if pressed,
it might just look as though
I'm a little bit depressed.

distance

I've been thinking today. A lot. Mostly about distance. A quote came to mind from the movie I.Q. Alas, it is not quoted in IMDB so I cannot relate it here correctly. It is where Catherine, explaining some theory or another, states that it is impossible for two people to dance. The reason being is that you always travel half the distance between two points, therefore never reaching your destination although critically narrowing the distance. I thought of that today, and how no matter how much effort one person puts forth to close the distance between him and someone else, inevitably at some point the other person must come the other half. Or, I guess, the first person can aim for double.