A Reflection

Tomorrow my brother is getting married and I have to say, I'm pretty... well, I was going to say "nonplussed," but I just looked it up and that's not what I mean. Um, what I'm trying to say is that I don't really have any strong feelings about his marriage and I'm wondering why that is. I am, of course, happy for him and her and happy that they make each other happy, but the whole marriage is not stirring up a whole lot of emotion for me. Here are some guesses as to why:

1. I'm emotionally dead inside. That one's just to be funny. Life has been rough lately, but I'm optimistic that it has not killed my outlook or potential for better things.

2. It's a small affair (him, her, me, her best friend--that's it. I will be serving as the witness/photographer).

3. They've been dating and living together for something like 8 or 9 years, so I kind of have "it's about time" feelings.

4. Maybe I don't really care about marriage. I really don't know what I think about marriage. I, myself, would like to be with someone, but I don't know that I've ever had strong feelings about making it official by putting it on paper. It seems like it's more official if you seal it with a baby or something. Also, I'm not a big fan of weddings. My ex seems to love weddings and I would think to myself, "If we ever get married, I'm just going to have to grin and bear it because he's definitely going to want something big." Looks like I won't be dealing with that though. Bullet dodged?

That's all I've come up with so far.

I love my brother dearly, even though he can be a real asshole sometimes. I know he's always got my back and we've always gotten along very well. He's prone to telling me what an awesome sister I am when he's drunk, which I find somewhat endearing. But anyway, it's been interesting to me in the past few weeks how ironic it is that my brother is currently experiencing one of his happiest moments while I am pretty much unhappy about every aspect of my life. That's a bit of an exaggeration. I like my hair, for example. But I'm not happy with 1) my job, 2) my lack of friends in this city, and 3) my lack of boyfriend. Those are pretty damn important things, so they are taking precedent over my good hair. The other day I stopped by my brother's and was walking home when he called me to tell me something he had forgotten to tell me while I was at his house. It went something like this:

"So I got home from my soccer game this morning and I was sitting on the floor with the dog because I didn't want to get the couch dirty and I started thinking about how great my life is. I've got an awesome girlfriend that I'm going to marry soon, I love my dog, we have a great apartment, I love my job. And then I looked down in the carpet and found a little nug of weed!"

My response: "So you found your own weed? Congratulations." It was kind of a bitter response, but I was laughing while I said it. And I appreciated how happy he is because you want your loved ones to be happy. But I couldn't help but thinking, "That's awesome. My life, on the other hand, sucks." I kept it to myself because there's no use bringing other people down.

And then the other day, I was telling him how I was having trouble sleeping. I wake up at 4 in the morning and my mind immediately starts racing. Once the brain starts moving, going back to sleep is impossible. He couldn't understand how I could be having trouble sleeping. I kind of wanted to yell, "Maybe it's because I hate my life right now!" I can't really kill his good mood though. It's good for me to be around and my hating my life only hits me hard every now and then. Most of the time it's an annoying thing that I just deal with, knowing that it will eventually get better. I have faith in that. I've moved enough to know that all of that takes time.

So I will just sit here quietly, basking in my brother's happiness, and doing what I can to make that moment when I start meeting people happen sooner.

HAHAHA. The last line's the best

Should you think this is somehow about me, you're mistaken. Shame on you, you should know I don't really wear white.

One Year

So here I am, exactly one year after I quit school and moved back to Atlanta from Spain. Here I am in Los Angeles writing about it. Thinking about the past year is pretty bittersweet, possibly more bitter than sweet, though I think my current situation is probably coloring that view. Here's why: I left school because I hated it and, as I explained to my advisor, I thought that I should be happy in both the work and personal/social parts of my life. I was happy with the social stuff (assuming everything would just fall back into place once I got back to the States, I guess), but I was very unhappy with school. So I left and that is still one of the best decisions I've ever made. Unfortunately, that good decision I think was followed by a whole slew of bad decisions which have ultimately lead me to where I am now: unhappy with both my personal/social and work lives. I know I need to have patience though. With the amount of change that I've experienced lately, of course everything is in turmoil. But those of you that know me well know that I am one of the least patient people around, so it's hard.

People say to me, "Well at least you're in LA, where you've always wanted to be," and that's kind of depressing because moving back here, though I do love it, made me realize that the place is not really the most important thing. Relationships--with friends, boyfriends, family--that's what really does it for me. And apologies to my family, but I know they'll always be there for me as long as they're alive, so I've already taken them somewhat for granted. So here I am with all of my best friends thousands of miles away and an ex-boyfriend that I wish was a current boyfriend who finds it too difficult to talk to me much (I could go on and on about this--what is it about guys and not being able to talk because it's too painful?? Both of my exes have said this to me and I saw the Savages last weekend and Philip Seymour Hoffman's character did it in that too!). The situation--my life, that is--is less than stellar.

So it looks like another renaissance for me, starting a year after my last renaissance. Slowly but surely, I have to remake my life into something that I love. It's fucking exhausting.

Guys Who Frequent Hookers Are Shitty Writers

I just read about this site elsewhere and got sucked in (pun unintended). The site is called Letters from Johns and it's an interesting concept. It doesn't say much for johns though: the only guy who is a good writer penned the entry titled: "I Have Come to the Conclusion That Hookers Are Not For Me." Reading this is going to make you want to read the other entries. It's ok though. It's a new site and there aren't that many entries.

Friday is my Geburtstag. I have a bunch of friends flying in for it. I AM EXTREMELY EXCITED.

Merry Christmas to Me

Once again I've fallen behind so much that it's pointless to try to catch up, so let's just say I have my own place now and a bed and life is better in that sense. I don't have any furniture yet, but my couch is in the warehouse, so I might by tomorrow!

So here's why it's Merry Christmas for me. The other night I came home and there were no parking spots (there is no parking at my apt.). I tried to squeeze into a spot and did a decent job. Until I realized the next day that I'd totally damaged the bumper of the guy in front of me. You see, here in California, license plates on the front of your car are mandatory. I'm not used to that and my car is somewhat ill-equipped for that. The set up right now makes it so that I basically have a bunch of sharp, puncture-y, scrapey stuff on my front bumper. Which I forget about.

There was a good amount of paint missing (a section larger than a candy bar) and some dents (almost-punctures). A good upbringing, guilt, and fear of karma all collided and I left a note, with my number. I was bummed because I'm very broke and that was pretty much the last thing I needed. But Kris Kringle must have felt my pain because that person never called me! It's been 4 days, so I'm feeling pretty safe, let's just hope I haven't jinxed myself.

Parents are coming into town tomorrow. A few hours later, I will be dining on a steak au poivre. MMMMMM...

HAPPY HOLIDAYS!

*****Update! The owner of car just called me. I didn't get the call, but she left the nicest message (and she has a totally soothing British accent). Anyway, she said that the paint had already been chipping off for a while and then she thanked me for leaving the note. Yay!!