i'm never coming back

For a minute there I almost believed you
And I wanted to forgive you for everything you've done
And I could feel safe but miserable
In a familiar world of lies and misinformation
But then I remembered that everything you've ever said
and everything you've ever done
add up to more wrongs,
than could ever make a right
So don't try to talk to me
'cause a thousand Fuck You's would never be enough
So I'm only gonna say this once
Fuck You I'm never coming back

Hm.

If you're not yet, follow Andrea'sPeace Corps Blog.

This time tomorrow I will be in flight, somewhere over the great plains.
I always get apprehensive before traveling, anxious, excited.

The list.

Brown
University of Chicago
University of Denver
University of Mass Boston
New York University
University of Oregon
University of Utah (yeah, really)
University of Washington

summer is a state of mind

I left the window open. Sweatpants, long sleeve and ruiner hoodie with the hood up. Three blankets. Listening to Explosions in The Sky. Someone nearby has a fire going (hopefully in their fireplace), as I can smell the wood smoke and it makes me homesick (or is it timesick) for past falls.

I am not sure why, as they haven't been that great (with the exception of last year) as a whole. The decline. Before that, the separation. Before that debt that haunts me even now. I could go on.



I don't know.

Maybe I never have.

school

Applied for minor in Anthropology. Need to take three field schools and on top of that, for fun, taking World Prehistory, Exploring Folklore, Mummies of the World, Primate Studies and the Neanderthal Enigma.

Appointments made to talk to faculty members at NYU. Guide of Anthro Dept's and their expertise on reserve for me at the Library. Dr Kent in speed dial.

Welp. I never take the easy road, and apparently my education is no exception.



Adding to my list of potential schools:
Penn State, Boston College, University of Maryland.

High Fidelity

I feel like Rob Gordon in High Fidelity. Sitting at his kitchen table, white pages open, pouring through the millions of citizens of Chicago. "She's in the fucking phonebook!" is what he exclaims.

"He's on fucking myspace!" Is what I say and I wasn't even LOOKING for him. It was literally, oh, this is interesting, click, oh these photos are cool, click, oh, that kid is familiar, click, HOLY SHIT.

In the end, it took me a dictionary
To find out the meaning of unrequited

fucking ouch

my ribs are bruised to shit, i have a hand(ish) shaped bruise on my right arm, and a big gash (what!) on my elbow. i bruised the shit out of my big toe and am a little shaky from all the adrenaline going last night.

pooped pooped pooped.

i love that band.
i love my friends

to ease that wandering heart

I've traveled more in the last eight months than I have in ages and I'm still feeling restless. I've been places I've never been and done shit that I didn't think I'd do and it's still not enough.

I am going to New York for a brief weekend the first of October.

Going to try and talk some fools into taking me on their west coast tour over Christmas break. I can sling some merch, are you kidding me? I've worked in retail for FOREVER, I can sell a blind man a television with no sound.

My alarm about stopped my heart this AM. I need to figure out a better way to wake up, like one of those "zen" awakening machines that uses a gong noise over ten minutes or something.

Fuck me, I'm tired.

I want some people to come visit and hang out and party hard. Awe.

get out of my headddddddd.

Yeah, well...

More proof I was born in the wrong decade...

My favorite movies are all 80's action adventure and teen comedies.
A bunch of my favorite bands all broke up by '92.
The 80's "prep" look is most appealing to me out of everything else since then.


Recently acquired:
-adventures in babysitting
-girls just wanna have fun

needed:
-tank girl
-romancing the stone
-3 ninjas
-ninja turtles
-cry baby
-pretty in pink/breakfast club/saint elmo's fire
-karate kid


Still listening to Phoenix as if I get paid for it.
Going to NY at the end of the month to check out grad schools.
Unholy crushing on someone I've hung out with twice.

PAST CRIMES 1

Today, of all days, I just watch the flickering light on the SK. Its regular illumination another illumination of how it comes and goes, and I wish you would just go. I am told it takes the average person seven minutes to fall asleep, two hours later, I’m wishing I’m average for not the first time in my life. The quarter full prescription can be seen out of the corner of my eye over the curved horizon of my pillow. It’s been weeks since.

No one ever really forgives and no one ever really forgets. My transgressions were written against me long before we even met. Your mistrust and your walls were mortared by women who only deigned to love you. Your name burned in my ears, your eyes branded on the lids of mine so that even in sleep I can’t escape. I came to the realization that much of it was my fault. Demonizing does no good, when you roll over and open your eyes and awake to a day of guilt and the intense recognition that you were both fucked up. An awakening so severe that it physically burned within my chest. We can never go back.

autumn

a four bedroom house, known as the real deal house, or real deal mansion.
hardwood floors, polariods upon entry, dinner parties, photo shoots, records and other ridiculous lifestyle choices.

drop bar, vintage raleigh.

gray/gray chrome bag, black buckle. big kid sized.

helmut lang asym, zip, starwars hooded jacket, modified kanga pocket

gap straight leg jeans (x4, 3 washes)

black black vans

cowboy boots

calvin klein dress(es)

michael kors parfume

levis that fit like my old 631's

suspenders

torc bracelets

ribbons of all colors

black, long sleeved DENCO tee

rugby shirts (3)

a CIS hoodie that fits in the torso like my ...isdead one but is longer and has longer sleeves.

more grandpa cardigans

paper boy pants

oversized mens work shirts

burberry, or burberry knock off 'stud' cuff watch, in silver or onyx

no more lost boys

There is no such thing as a second chance, but I guess we both lived our regret to the fullest. I ate mine – swallowed it whole for three months, wallowed in the shit of my own creation and now I pulled myself from the mire. I turned it all into and inside of me, and you? Now you’re regurgitating and moving backwards. It’s taken a year and some change, but I finally see clearly. A drug. Never abuse, but never far from, I guess. No making excuses ever again. No more excuses of bending backwards for the sweet self loathing that comes with someone like you.

I am thinking about disposability – replacement – compensating. To what degree do all those things change the course of my actions? Theirs? I can dispose. I’d rather not. I’d rather not compensate either. Or compare. That, at least, humans can’t help.

---

in other news, i am allergic to everything, i argued with my professor and he's still an idiot, i am restless, and want to move, not just into to denver, i'd kind of like to transcend state lines and start as a brand new person.

we're no good at this...

I wonder if I will ever be able to listen to this song without it doing to me what it does.

You're no good for me
My formulated drug an acquired taste
awaits to sate this unrequited love
It tastes so gray, yet necessary to sustain frustration
Take just enough to get you fucked up
Not so much that it drives you away

A constant escape
The magnificent restraint that it takes to stay away
I've no control at all
I constantly dream
The memories invade the things I keep with me
I'm getting high on the roof of the world

You're no good for me

(You're no good for me) You are the bent and blackened spoon.
You are the butane. You are the bedroom.
(You're no good for me) You are the improbable excuse
for the horrible things that I do.

You're no good for me, but I guess not bad enough.
And on quiet nights I come to find you crawling through my kick drum
Hell bent on deliverance of all the privileges
of being with you, Heaven sent I crane my neck
To watch you desperately march down my chest, enjoying every step.
Emphasized by distances we never intended.
You come crawling back through my regrets to remind me what you said...
"We're no good at this."

what is it

I am not certain what it is about this week of the year. I am always bed-ridden sick. Or hospital bound.

My freshman year of college (six years ago, yeesh) I went to the CSU/CU game at mile high, got a terrible migraine, threw up until I threw up blood and had to be taken to the hospital by ambulance. They didn't believe me that I hadn't been drinking (I didn't, at all, at the time) and so it took that much longer for them to figure out I didn't need to go to detox, I was actually ill with something!

My junior year of college I got strep so bad this first weekend of September that I lost my voice, couldn't get out of bed, couldn't even make the phone call to say I couldn't go to work.

The fall that I moved back to Denver (the very next fall) I had the flu so severely that I had to have an IV because I was so dehydrated from my fever.

Last fall I had a fever of 100-102 for five days straight, couldn't stay awake, couldn't move off the couch, could barely eat, barely drink.

And this year? This fireworks display of epic vomiting and pooping.

Its always the same week/weekend. FUCK MY LIFE.

YEAH.

This blows my mind on so many levels. Seeing this band at Sox Place to maybe 35 kids with Set it Straight a couple summers ago, to THIS? Hardly a band working that deserves this as much as they do. Click Here for the Article

doing what i can

to be in denver proper within the next forty-five days. high price to pay for independence, i suppose.

fuuuuuck

I shouted to the rooftops. It wasn't a word, more of some fucking wounded animal sound, I suppose. "What?" They all asked. "What was that about?"

"That's about my history of being manipulated and fooled. My lifetime of pity-worthy choices. Escapades that are less fun and more tragic with each passing day."






Being sick can fuck right off.

24 year memoir. So many mistakes.

...no way

So this situational stupidity is getting to me. My friend is dating this girl who's an idiot and who definitely went out of her way to make my life hard in high school (yes yes, ancient history, move on, blah blah blah) and she apparently gave him the ultimatum of "stop talking to Jordan or we break up."

Coooooool.

Also, I got craigslist missed-connections. "Purple plaid on the H line, getting off at colfax" sup? Hahaha. Not sure whether I'm going to reply or not. Creep to the max.


Also also, I have found the joint of my dreams to lay my head at night. I want three months rent in savings for just in case, so I need another 12ish hundo.


Happiest days this fall:
September 19th
October 13th
November 3rd

pick up your feet and just get the hell out of town

What can be said about Sunday?

I think some of it can be summed up in Alysha's tweets...

""I would eat bobby flay's meatballs." "alysha ann! This is a christian car!!" What's for lunch?"

""Oh look at him, we can ride him" "you can't even see his face!" "Doesn't mean he can't give us a ride""

""Jesus christ alysha is going to be tap dancing in the car!!!""

""I am not taking you to the hospital if you take too many of those""


Crooked Ways played really well. Cruel Hand killed it. One of the wildest sets crowd wise I've seen at a DIY show in a while. Foundation was late but played a great set. Haters to the left, please and thank you. Have Heart was great too. Just not the same not seeing them at Sox Place.

Like an idiot I left the lights on in the Jeep and so the battery was dead. Hardcore Heart Throbs attempted to roll start, success was not had. Tomas of Foundation drove it after a UNM staffer got it started for me and slammed on the brakes and I bonked my head on the dashboard pretty good. Alysha and Pat nearly died in the back.

Frontier green chile is delicious.

I am home and exhausted and didn't take any pictures.