God damn woman parts. Bullshit.

I'm all lightheaded and bloated and spacey, and my skin is super sensitive, and I have no appetite after eating everything in sight for the past 24 hours. Yes, it's That Time Again. It's gonna be a rough one. It might even warrant the label of 'epic.' Just like years and years ago, before I altered my body chemistry with a series of mind-numbing hormonal cures, when I used to be bedridden with the spins and pain so blinding I had to puke in public garbage cans. Awesome. Shoot me.

Everything else is going alright, though.

Jesus.

The little sister of one of my good friends drowned in Redding yesterday. We just got off the phone, and I can't even imagine what he and his family must be going through. I think about losing Tony and it makes me want to throw up. How do you deal with something like that? I just feel sick for them. Fucking sick.

Can't concentrate on my work

I talk things out much better than I write them. I write well, but I think quickly and abstractly, so I lose interest when trying to explain my inner life on paper. I also benefit from discussion. Often I write out some sort of huge blog post and then scrap it entirely for a succinct, essential version, which only came out of sorting through my long-winded thoughts. It's less interesting to send my thoughts into a void, but more honest. Though I can say with certainty that I am not always honest with myself, either.

Getting that old familiar feeling. Maybe I've overcaffeinated. This is cup four of black tea on an empty stomach, so probably. I want to be stimulated-- I need to be. And I'm not. 95% of the time I'm not. Therapy challenges me, some of my closer friends challenge me, and art challenges me. How do I learn to challenge myself instead of seeking out greater structures to do that for me? Or is that acceptable? I don't know. I think I'm used to chasing someone-- and when I say that I mean a particular but different someone in sequential points in time-- whose head I can't quite get into. That's my favorite challenge. I don't have that right now and it might be driving me insane.

God, how unhealthy is that?

Rant

It's important to me that I feel like a priority to my friends, that I feel like I get back what I put in. I'm not sure people collectively understood why it was a deal-breaker when my two "close friends" blew off my Halloween party. My reasoning: It was a culmination of times that they chose something else-- anything else-- over our friendship. And when I attempted to test the trust of our bonds by confronting them to make amends, I found that we had no foundation to stand on.

I don't have get-togethers very often. Maybe a few times a year. I'm not a natural hostess and I don't have the pull that others have, for whatever reason. The housewarming potluck was no different. It ended up being really fun and a lot of people came out to celebrate with me. I was grateful for that. But warm and fuzzy feelings aren't the reason I write this blog, so I'm going to focus on the other thing.

A few people let me know ahead of time that serious things were going on and that they couldn't make it, for health and family reasons, which is utterly, worryingly understandable. But a lot of people flat-out blew me off and I'm sick of being blown off. Take the MFT girls. I don't know why I keep trying to reach out. I always get burned. Take random other people of whom I still, somehow, have expectations of respect that no longer deliver. Take one of my very good friends, who is beginning to demonstrate a pattern of only making me a priority when she needs something.

This isn't about the potluck. It's about consistently feeling like I put in more than I get. It's about why, after so much evidence, I continue to have high expectations for these people. I need to let go. Not everyone can give me the friendships that I want, and that's fine. There is no need to continue to waste my energy and be disappointed.

I do have wonderful friends. I do have people I can count on. I do have people to whom I'm a priority. And they are where I'm going to focus my energy. Mark my words, god damn it...

I had my first real interview today. I think it went okay. Due to total lack of experience I wasn't very polished, but I think my raw enthusiasm and good instincts helped make up for it. (Hopefully.) I need to have more distance from it to evaluate how I did, since I tend to be self-critical right after the fact. Doing okay, though. We'll see... it would be a badass job, though.

I'm on a boy kick right now. It's strange and unexpected, but also familiar, and intuitively "right," given all the heteronormativity conditioning, I'm sure. I still see myself ending up with a boy. Somehow, even after all of my internal work and deconstruction and lady lust, I can't picture myself with a woman. It's frustrating. Baby steps, I know. I'm young, and only a few years ago, I thought I could never have feelings for a woman; only a few years before that, I thought I couldn't be sexually attracted to one. Baby steps.

Percy is driving me insane. He's been such a diva since we moved. He stays up all night whining and shoving his head in my face. I didn't sleep more than two hours last night. Sort of running on empty. But... hell. I need to get to work.

I moved into my new place last week. What a relief... on many levels. I have the place to myself until August, since Tony can't move in right away. Housewarming on Thursday. I've never been sole hostess before. Time to learn some social skills. It's interesting to think about... people are invested enough in me to come to my housewarming. I've built something here, something that others want to be a part of. It's a nice feeling.

Also have an interview on Tuesday. Things are starting to fall into place.

And yet... I am a ball of tension. When I woke up this morning, my stomach was in knots, and the last week or so I've been having trouble sleeping. Little things are getting to me more than they should. I just have to remind myself to take it one day at a time.

On a random note, I'm totally in love with Chuck Bartowski. Can I just jump into the TV screen and make it all real? Sigh... [Did I not mention my recent hankering for romance? Clearly it's going unfulfilled.]

How is it July already?

This week I...

applied for my first real job
found a place
got addicted to Chuck
got over a crush as soon as it became a real possibility
decided to get another kitty as soon as Percy is acclimated to the new place
had a stressful week at internship
walked around like a zombie for four days
spent a lot of time in the sun
opened up a little
bought local art (okay, in the form of a textile owl at the Ray Ray show)
showed various family members around Chico
screamed and fist-pumped my way through all of the Nadal matches it took for him to make the final


Experiencing a spot of melancholy, in the few moments I'm not running around like a madwoman. Moving into the new place will help. Just wanna relax.