(quote from telephone call that I wrote down in a private diary years ago.I like how if it involved me cooking the crisp then it would be sexist, but if it's just eating it, then I'm all for it. I hate wearing shoes.)
I've been considering re-wording, re-formatting some stuff from recent private blogs for public consumption. It's super hard, though.
Everyone who reads private blog knows me, gives me the benefit of the doubt, has the history with me to be able to know what I'm getting at even when I lack the faculties to make it perfectly clear.
This age is hard work and would probably be easier if I had different friends, if I weren't pursuing acting, if we drank less, if I had a 9to5, if I boned less musicians, if I was interested in anyone who was interested in me.
But life might be less fun?
(edit: I wrote this yesterday and then while hanging with with my favourite rap partner last night we were talking and she said basically exactly all that back to me.)
Dollface and I, at brunch, were talking about relationships and how the thought of them gives us a bit of heebie-jeebies and panic. And also how there are very few examples of types of relationships that we would want to be in. Except for like, Dollface's parents. And Violet's parents...
But yet the idea of settling down with someone, and especially having kids, that does seem appealing.
And there's the pressure that society sets out (moreso for women) for us to find someone before it's "too late".
Even one of my aunts was talking about being single how after a certain point you have to wait for the first round of divorces to find a suitable mate.
Shudder.
Haha, that might be close-to-true in Saskatoon, though. Where you have to wait for a couple to break up so that you can date one of them. Then when you have one you have to hold on for dear life 'cause there aint gonna be many more free ones.
Just kidding! (kind of)
Man, I woke up in the most god-awful mood this morning. Just horrifyingly bad.
I'm trying pretty hard to shake it, though. Instead of wallowing in it.
I dreamed I was in an acting class and everyone hated me and then my instructor flipped out on me for not knowing my lines and slapped me and told me to quit acting because I was so terrible at it. Then I coudn't control my rage and I hit him and then everyone blamed me and thought I was a psychopath and wouldn't look at me.
I hid out in the garden eating pastries that I should have paid for but didn't want to.
That's where the dream started getting weird.
Anyway, unpleasant feelings all the way through that last bit of sleep and it's all still nagging in my chest.
Last night was super fun and my old rap group pal, who needs a nickname and I worked very very hard on a new project. But we also had some delicious dinner (rice pasta with sauteed mushroom and zucchini tomato sauce, baked with cheese) and drank wine.
I should be in a way better mood today than I am, and I'm going to try and get to there.
I like how sometimes I look at pictures of myself I took and I'm like "really? really you couldn't have taken two seconds to do your hair? really?"
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