What a weird word balloons is, no? I am up and it is 4:30 after going to bed at 1:30. There is a hot air balloon festival here today I am going to, and I am actually kind of happy to have somewhere cute to go, though going with two couples in my family is me fifth or third wheeling it depending on whose car it is. I have been getting very fidgety over the past few weeks, needing an escape, a new adventure, something to look forward to, a trip, mostly because my recreational activities really haven’t amounted to much. My new friend D came to snag me to take me out of town to Evergreen a week or so ago, and then came a few nights ago with a new form of relief and I returned the dinner favor as a thank you for hooking a girl up and making her feel a little less isolated. I checked my phone last night before I went to sleep and a few of my NY buddies have come out of the woodwork to send me sweet messages about missing me and I better come back in June or July as promised, with some happy things to think about thrown in for good measure. That’s part of the problem I think…all my encouragement and push to make things happen is coming from voices in my phone clear across the country. This is not to say I am paralyzed to do anything, it’s just to say that having the right people around me to make me feel like I want to be a better person is a key element in sustained happiness for me I think. I need little goals, encouragement, little pushes to see my own value sometimes. This is why we have friends and family, or rather, this is the value I see in having all of these. I want to be around people who make me want to do things better, finish the things I have started, and are the pushers and not the dawdlers. I don’t want people around me that make me feel mundane, average, or stagnant, like life is not moving and everything is the same. Who wants that? Not I. I am going to find my web of superstars here if it kills me, and now I have to find out my plan of action and strategy.
This reminds me of when I decided last year I wanted to make some friends who owned a yacht, because hanging out in the marina not far from the statue of liberty had to be just the sweetest thing. I had developed this strategy that we could either make ourselves very visible by taking out hot blond butts up to the marina and hanging out at the yacht club so we could sass the yacht owners, or just ask one for a ride. And we could do that, for sure. But I got the pool and floated in it instead, swimming in large circles in the backyard as everyone cried at the 90-100+ heat every day.
All of my friends and I knew how to turn it on thick when we needed to get something, so I am a little disappointed I gave up so easily…it probably would not have taken much to meet one new couple, or couple of dudes, but we were distracted and laughing too much, drunk bike riding and causing trouble too much to really be too focused on getting attention from anywhere specific, but just everywhere we went we got it all. My sister always comments on that about me here. When she’s with me she claims that men come out of the woodwork and fall all over themselves to help us or talk to us. And though they might be a little more active out here, let’s just say there are just more of them maybe out in the available pool. Or it’s our invincible combination, who knows?
I have been rejecting most forms of cheap and easy communication, making phone calls lately as opposed to the haphazard and sometimes careless text message. I am going to start writing letters to some people I promised letters to because there is something very wrong to me with completely trading my live physical relationships in for what ends up being a narrative you picture the other person saying to you, you providing the intonation and inflection and emphasis but it not translating across quite the same. And if they don’t answer, oh no! It’s no wonder everyone is emotionally stunted, nobody talks and understands and hears things they were meant to be delivered, unless I guess you know the other person or writer very well, and even F and I, who knew everything about how I was, would misunderstand or not hear my love or sarcasm. He actually allowed me to realize I could scream actually. I don’t, but he is one of the few who can throw me over the cliff, easily.
So, I have been reading Susan Smith’s astrologyzone.com on and off for a number of years now. I am not sure what got me into reading it, but I will definitely check it out at some point during every month just to see if the magic has any basis in truth, or to justify certain actions. After a while, I realized I used to really just look to see how many romantic days I had in store because I am just that lame. That was my first mission in looking at that crystal ball. It’s almost like I was sometimes looking for the justification or reason behind my crazy time, or maybe some indications of upcoming good luck or fortunate events. The mercury in retrograde thing unfortunately I think makes a thousand percent of a difference, simply because it does seem everything insane happens then. I signed my lease last month after it was out, after stalking the landlord for weeks and assuming she was not going to give me this place anyways.
In any case, Susan Smith has done little but make me feel like a loser romantically given I am always on the verge of supposed to be getting engaged or married, and she made me feel like double crap when I saw the planet of good luck for that and blabbity blah is out of my chart until 2022, so if I am looking to get engaged or married, now is the time to do it! haha. It is certainly never that simple, but I wonder why I have been looking at these omens of bad luck and putting any important meaning into it at all. Because I like creepy and superstitious, maybe that’s why. Or because I am projecting her meaning and analysis onto my own life, which is also insane. I need to get over that. Anyhow, this weekend according to Ms. Smith, is supposed to be like…well I guess like “fireworks on the fourth of July.” That was the term someone used to describe me very recently, and actually was one of the least aggravating and mundane of descriptions someone has used to say how they felt about me. So there’s supposed to be some snap crackle pop of awesome going on sometime this weekend and I am a little sad that the person I’d like to be with is not in the right head space nor has enough time to hang out with me. I might actually need to revisit the plans I did make because it might just end up being a hot date with myself. I guess I will figure it all out, given the rapture of love is upon us now!
I love my life. haha!
May 22, 2011 at 5:59 am
Web of superstars
I like that 🙂
webs of impossibility not so much
But when life gives us lemons, all we can do is decide what to make with them
I agree with the Fourth of July description of you
I think we are supposed to project psychic’s predictions onto our lives so don’t feel bad or susceptible because of that…at best they are like hints or blurry mirrors…if I don’t like what they say about my future I just tell myself they are bad psychics