in a nutshell.

the most wonderful thing.

The sun rises every day. Every single day, whether you see it or not, the sun swims across the sky. Never stopping- more reliable, even, than the USPS. Behind rainclouds and snowclouds, the sun is gliding along his curved road. Nothing bothers him.

good and bad and flickering light.

yesterday was cool and smelled like spring- rain and damp green grass. walking around was nice, finally. bare legs and lots of cleavage and comfortable. the craft fair was large and full of people who reminded me how creative i’ll never be, and how much money i’ll never have to spare, and how idiotic rich people are (that scarf really should not cost $500 dollars. give me three days and $50 worth of chenille and it’s yours for … $100. in order to stay fed, clothed, and housed.) the girls in my class made me realize that though I live in the suburbs but technically the city, I really do live in the city a lot more than they do. downtown baltimore is not very exciting. I go through it every week, maybe. to go to the theater, or the airport, or anyone’s house south of here. I told them I live at the train station, which is a lie, because mostly I take the bus, but it sounded impressive. the point was that I spend too much time Somewhere Else.

cell phone slut’s birthday was yesterday. there was cake, which no one told me about, so I wandered upon and then left, and a surprise party, which I found out about on facebook, after. I know I am not friends with “her crowd” but I think most people know that I am better friends with her than any one of them. and I am friends with half of the surprise-party people. and no one thought to tell me. I am not quite bitter (it will pass by breakfast time) but sometimes it is just a little too salty for me, this not having friends. (I have friends, of course, but not the way they do. I don’t have 10 people to invite to my birthday party who’d all get along. I don’t get invited to anything, ever. I sit with two people at lunch and I love them, I do, but when I’m waiting for them teachers ask me what’s wrong [being alone is unacceptable. fuck this.] and sometimes I just wish I was normal…and then I remember that everybody else drives me crazy.)

analogizing.

I think pain and sex are like peanut butter and jelly. Best together. I mean, take pain, take peanut butter (this one really holds true only for me and people like me…). I am not really big on peanut butter. It’s good with bananas, sometimes apples, occasionally chocolate, even occasionally by itself. And take pain. Pain when inflicted for the fun of it by a friend or a “lover” or someone in between is excellent. Pain when you’re giggling with endorphins and adrenaline is really, honest-to-god fun. Sometimes pain is a comfort. On the other hand, some kinds of pain just HURT. Like toe-stubbing. Or papercuts. It’s very hard to relish a stubbed toe or a paper cut.
Now take jelly. It’s good. It’s good mixed into yogurt, it’s good on toast, it’s good and sweet when you stick your finger in it and lick it. Jelly is sweet and fruity and delicious. Sex is not sweet and fruity and delicious, exactly, but it is kind of awesome. [note: by sex I mean all kinds of sex, not just The Sex.]
Now take peanut butter and jelly. Think about it. A peanut butter and jelly sandwich is a heavenly experience. It’s savory and salty, while also being sweet. It’s soft and crunchy. It has protein and fiber (if you use whole grain bread, which really is the best way to make a pb&j) and sugar and some fat. It’s pretty much the best thing ever. They enhance each other, complement one another, bring out all the best in one another. And so it is with pain and sex!

Thus ends my metaphor.
I would really like sex.
I guess I’ll just have to eat a pb&j instead…

what happens when i get googling.

my cup runneth over

but not with happiness, just a strange mania of sorts. a minor mania, if you will.

tonight is one of those nights where I have a Desperate Urge to go out and climb trees in the cold and the dark and the rain. it is one of those nights where I have Many Assignments, all of which are beyond my current capabilities. I give up. My paper will be late, and I may have to go out after the Daily Show (Rachel Maddow! Yay!) and breathe in the cold.

my body is shaky and chilly. my skin is dry and, in places, red and sore. my neck aches. my muscles are tense, tense, tense. today I raised my hand and gave myself an awful muscle cramp. I hate stress. Every few minutes I realize my shoulders are tensed and curved, and I relax them, only to find later that they are hunched and tight again.

my phone’s outer screen keeps lighting up, the battery symbol flashing. this alerts me that it is about to die. strangely, I find this utterly exhilirating.

I feel very much like I am in the mortal city. Bold, strange dreams, coldness, darkness, odd humanity. Connection and cooking and blankets and warmth.

My fingers are tingling, now my arms, now my back; shivers run up my spine and I convulse. Today we did the cupid shuffle in dance class. 1, 2, 3, 4, 1, 2, 3, 4, 1, 2, 3, 4, 1, 2, 3, 4. right right right right left left left left right kick left kick right kick left kick step-shimmy yourself 90 degrees around. My toes are numb and I fear my knee is going out. I have my father’s troublesome knees – they’ve gone in and out and popped and bubbled like buttery popcorn since I was small. Do not enjoy that. Do not enjoy my cold, crampy, tense muscles.

Enjoy the red scratch marks and the achey circle on my neck. Enjoy the fact that I gave up on my french paper. Enjoy the sound of wind in the night.

Tingly, tingly toes and fingers. My face still has flour on it.