June 2012

Living by yourself is interesting to say the least. There's always this slight fear of slipping into an actuality composed purely of my own thoughts. I sit down to do something or think about something and I just get swept away. An hour will pass and I'll realize that I've just been lost in my own head with nothing to interrupt, divert or distract.

I curled up in an euphoric pile of a fresh, hot whites straight out of the dryer and watched "Like Crazy" late this evening. I had been wanting to see it for quite some time but typically steer away from any love story that looks like it has the potential and capacity to be heart wrenching. I figured it'd be another low-budget indy film where the characters bond over their love for the same music, books, oddities, and quirks. That, I can handle quite well. It's hardly believable anyways, but endearing in the relatable way that I have experienced fleeting adoration for boys who share my peculiar way of seeing things or perhaps just happen to also have an affinity for burritos, archie comic books, science fiction, and comparative literature.

I hated every moment of the entire movie. It was gripping, compulsive, enthralling, and engrossing. The film itself was tedious and more like snap shots of their relationship but I don't think anyone can sit through it without it resonating with their own harsh, revolting, and sometimes jarring humanity. We, as people, just suck learning to love selflessly. Perhaps I hated "Like Crazy" so much because it just served as an hour and half long reminder of how I've failed to put others first.

I was in such a melancholic state that I didn't know what else to do aside from go to the 24-hour grocery store. I love grocery stores in the same way that I love libraries. They are so full of potential, and so undeveloped. They house the components of any great meal. Just, all spread out, raw, uncooked, packaged up, and stacked.

I just wandered around until I snapped out of it, checked out, and returned to my car to listen to Call Me, Maybe and return home. Grocery store trips are always hilarious in their own way. A guy told me that I must have gotten a lot of sun recently to have such dark freckles on my shoulders and back. How does one even go about responding to a statement like that? I said, yes, that I had forgotten to put on sunscreen over the weekend. Then I just awkwardly shuffled away. Engaging in midnight conversations with strangers complimenting your freckles sounds like a very bad plan to me. No more off the shoulders tops to be worn to kroger. Lesson learned.