The lyrics aren't all that great, but it's how I feel right now.

Michael:Do you want a drumstick? Me:Uh, no I play guitar....Michael:Wow, I meant the ice cream.

In the subject related news, I finally have 3 solid friends in San Diego (Kyle being the best friend, of course). Michael and Andrea. I can be MYSELF, which I haven't been able to do around anyone else besides Kyle(so thankful for him) in so long that I forgot what it felt like. It's such a scary feeling, feeling like you're losing yourself completely. This may sound like such a ludicrous thing, that I am THAT happy over making two new friends, but I can honestly call them friends. I can go to dollar stores with them and laugh at the stupidest things, we can drive around and scream music at the top of our lungs, we can watch disney movies and make each other dinner. Finally a life outside of work. One of the best things is that Kyle gets along with them too. Its a great little group. This sounds so corny, but I don't care.

If someone would've asked me (and truthfully someone already has), how many friends have you made since you've moved out to San Diego, I would've answered/lied "so many I can't even count". Which in itself, is pretty sad. There isn't really a fine line between acquaintance and friend. There is, in fact, a huge fucking wall dividing the two-- unlike I originally always thought. My defense of this is I'd always believed that even if they are an acquaintance, I could always make friends with them in the future if I had decided to or if our paths had crossed and it was meant to be. That belief, was utterly smashed when I moved out here. This, which I have just began to realize, is based completely on MY choice.

For some reason, I got this crazy notion when I first moved out here that there was something socially wrong with me. Why was I consistently making up excuses to get out of plans with a group of, what I thought were friends at the time, from work? Don't get me wrong, I completely knew what I was doing at the time. I was being a flake and would never follow through with my plans with any of them. I just didn't know WHY I was doing it. Why continuously make plans with someone you don't like to be around? Such a great question that I finally have an obvious answer for.

San Diego is a fucking lonely city when you have no one that you'd like to share it with.

Ever since Kyle moved here and I met Michael and Andrea,that problem isn't a part of my life anymore.

I don't think I could ever thank them for filling that void.

It's official, this post has made me ultimately lame.

This sand is coarse.

While spending time on the damp and sand-papery sand with Tom one night, we enjoyed a comfortable silence.There was no forced conversation and not a single antagonizing moment of awkwardness that comes from any type of couple... when there just is not a thing left to say. I remember resting my head on his shoulder from such a strange angle. Our bodies formed a "L" so even if we were to speak we'd be hard of hearing one another. It didn't make sense to be touching completely-- even if our bodies were stiff from the cold ocean air. You could hear the salty waves crashing violently against the already corroded sand cliffs and smell the camp fire from some teenagers a couple hours before. It would be those sounds and smells that I would always remember. That--and somehow managing to hear and steady my breathing with his. It was soothing. It was comfortable.

There wasn't a single star out, but yet we could still see the moon. The reflections scattered across the big body of water and ended on the rocks that were just on the shore. Giving us just enough light to find each others sand soaked hands and lock them together above our heads, whilst still lying on the little world that we had built for ourselves. Just for that night.

I laid there and listened to him faintly hum a song, to which I didn't know--but enjoyed nonetheless. Nothing needed to be done. Nothing needed to be said. We just had this moment; we just had each other.

He loved me...and I let him go.

It's moments like that night that I wonder why I did.

I'm weary of this melody.

I'm come to a very serious conclusion in my life.

If you have a nice smile and/or a beard/stubble.
Watch out...because wow, you're probably something fierce attractive.

I don't consider myself a lustful person.

In other news--there is no longer a limit to how many hours of sleep I actually need to function. Becoming a walking zombie is either the best thing to ever happen to me or... actually it's probably the worst, but staying "awake" makes me see things a little bit more clear--or I'm just delusional. This time I might not go with the latter.
Oh what the hell.
It's comfortable there. It's so the latter.

I think Hugh Jackman just stole the thunder of my post.

It's okay though. It's Hugh Jackman.

Every screen went bleeding through these paper walls.

I'd be lying if I said that I can easily stand up for myself and my beliefs. Truly, I would be. Since I've moved to San Diego, it couldn't be more clear to me--you really have to put your foot down. Whether it be your stance on gay marriage, the way you want your shift to run, or all the way down to how much lemonade you want in your Arnold Palmer (only 1/3 please).

It's not so much that the question "why?" is brought up; its the complete and utter lack of respect on the other end of the spectrum.

Never have I had to stick up for myself this much or this often.

"I'm your boss, can you tell me why you feel you can talk to me this way?... Thanks for calling me a bitch to my face; I only kindly asked you to take out the garbage."

"Whats wrong with equality? Love is Love. No, really. It does work that way."

"I don't care if an Arnold Palmer is half lemonade and half iced tea...can I please have 1/3 lemonade? Why? because I like it that way?"

I'm being vague. This probably doesn't make any sense. What I've decided it comes down to:

People think much differently out here. Whether this stems from the whole "east coast, west coast" ideology, I have no clue...but I can tell you that the culture out here is a mind fuck. Or perhaps I'm being ignorant to it. People, yes, they are entitled to their own opinions but I have never had someone else's shoved down my throat, rather, been force fed so much bullshit in my entire existence as a human being.

I get it. God is your savior. You're homophobic. You don't like Arnold Palmer's. I get it. Just please stop feeding it to me like I'm trying to rip the spoon out of your hands--starving for your ridiculous opinions.

Of course, I do realize that they are all more than likely thinking the same thing about me. Trust me, thought of that already. The difference though, I don't go around boasting about my beliefs until someone decides to "challenge" me. Which happens more often than not in this city.

My question being--why? Why does it have to be this way? and if so...did this happen in Michigan?

My biggest question--has this always been happening, doesn't matter which demographic i was/am in at the time, and the only difference now is that I'm not happy? Did that magnify it? It must have.

My ramblings get me no where. I suppose I'm just tired of the ignorance.

Yes, it is true. I'm not exactly happy here. Oddly enough, I'm okay with that. I've always learned (it was the hard way), that something good will always come around. It will. In fact, my best friend is moving here. He is. He really, really is. Words cannot express how excited I am about that.

The one thing causing my un-happiness, I believe, is that I have no one to share my experiences with here. There isn't a person to ride down to the beach with. No one to go to the "happening clubs" around here. No one to go to the zoo, ride across the bridge, blare music at the highest it can go with all the windows down. I want someone to share all of these things with. They all seem minuscule, but they aren't really....really.

Finally, I'll have someone here who can appreciate all of these things... Appreciate what it means to actually get away. Live life. Live it somewhere else until that said place is all used up and you go searching for something bigger and better. That's what we'll do. Kyle, I'm happy for you. I'm glad that you get to leave Michigan. I'm so excited for your experience in San Diego. Really.

I find it to be...cliche to write in your own blog how random and strange your post is, but really...I went everywhere with this.

Alex Carriere- you are fiercely wonderful. Make of that what you will. I just know that you've always stuck around, and the times that you somewhat have not--you came through eventually. I truly miss you. I really do. I wonder what our friendship would've been like had we actually did this in person, rather internet and mail. You're a lot like me, I think.

In other news, I think I've learned to say what I actually want and hold nothing back. I have this feeling that my life is going to change.

Drastically.

It's not easy, what do I write--to paint a nice picture, it's all in my mind.

I wont miss you.
Because I'll never leave.
I'll keep you near me.
To need when I please.
I wish you luck.
For every day.
And ask that you'll be there.
Not too far away.
Wont forget what you've done for me.
I love you.
For being the friend that I need.

blah blah blah.

Mary's house in the hollow of the white hazel rapid whirl pool in the church of the redcave.

I frequently update my facebook information, in hopes that I'll like the person I've become better when I see it written down several different ways.



In any event, Yeasayer is helping me get by.




It's so lonely out here.