One of those days. A Short.

I hung my head in my head staring down at the ground. It had just been one of those days. I was so exhausted. Not physically. My body was fine. I was just emotionally drained. And talking about emotions was one of those things that I wasn't supposed to do. So I didn't. I didn't tell anyone. After all, who was there to tell. Even though I'd been dating her for 2 years, there were just some things that she didn't understand. Some things that I attempted to explain anecdotally. It just never worked. Maybe I was just an ineffective storyteller. I told stories to detach myself from them. I don't want the pity that people freely give when you tell the stories that I have to tell-- in first person. Telling such stories in first person pulls at peoples' heart strings or reminds them that they should be judgemental or at least helps them feel justified in their passing of judgement. So it's just easier to tell stories as though they are about someone else.

I took a sip of my beer and glanced across the street. I dropped my eyes and stared at my cigarette burning on the saucer. The saucer is my temporary ashtray since I don't smoke. I say I don't smoke because I only smoke on these days. Smoking is my extra vice that I can just throw in whenever needed. I picked up the cigarette and took a long drag. The taste of smoke always brings back memories. Memories of various things. Memories of being in a bar. Smoke filling the room. Karoake on stage. Everyone in the bar knew each other. They all did the same thing every night. This was part of their lives just like the pummeling of my mother was a daily routine for my father. Or rather, just like the pummeling of a mother is the daily routine of some fathers. Remember, I have no stories to tell. No reasons to feel like I do. No reason to have days like this. And still, I tell stories.

One good thing.

I go home next week. I get to see my family. My sibilings. My parents. My friends. Time to relax. And Nora comes with me. I get some time to get away from it all--well, almost.


I'm ready for it. It will be great to have some down time. Well, almost down time.

Attempting to catch up

It's been so long that I get random text messages about how I should update my blog. It's unfortunate now that I no longer have access at work. Now, I have to actually work all day. (Yes, I know there are plenty of other things that I could do but bitching about bathroom talkers and updating everyone about my life) And there's so much to tell really.

I am so tired right now. I'm not where I want to be in all aspects of my life. I don't think that I'll even expound upon that, it's not much worth it.

Oh, and yes, I have to give my shout out in response to the demanding text message I received. Yes, the blog hasn't been too exciting lately. And sure, you were a fabulous bf. Fabulous in that our relationship was perfectly dysfunctional. Together, not together. All types of good fun but isn't that what senior year is for... instability and fear of commitment? Or was that encouraged by all of the other parts of my life?

But on to better things.... my little Nora had her last appointment with the surgeon this past week. They did xrays and told me that everything looks awesome. She can now go back to normal behavior. She doesn't have to be told not to jump and not to run. She's perfect again and I don't have to yell at her and tell her to calm down. She can be herself again and I am so excited for her. She's a wonderful little girl who will always bring light into my life.

There is so much more to say. So much to catch up on. So much that I could just continue to write about so that hopefully figure out why the fuck I'm so out of it.

I need to go to New York City. Find out how the crazy people make it in this world.