second day of

an irritating part about christmas is the day after christmas when all anyone can say is, "how was your christmas?"

it was long as hell and full of mimosas, myself myself myself, my voice being passed around a few living rooms somewhere in ohio, approximately three sad teardrops, approximately three hundred candy cane joe-joes, one frozen pizza, mariah carey, digging a car out with a spatula, the blue moon, disclosing personal information to strangers, and a mason jar of hot red rose tea at 4am.

and i don't think i want to talk about it anymore than that. but you're getting more information than most people. usually, i've just been saying, "nice" and "i'm glad it's over" and "isn't it unusual that 'have yourself a merry little christmas' has such happy lyrics, but is such a sad song?"

sabbatical

sorry i haven't been writing lately.

i've been hanging out in tatem's cabinet under the kitchen counter, eating teddy grahams, talking about super powers and snowmo sapiens, laughing about how i never have weather-appropriate shoes, turning everyone into a monkey, making prank phone calls, and picking our noses.

...so that's where i've been, in case you were wondering. i really needed the break. she wanted me to stay in the cabinet, but i said, "sorry, i'm going to eat my soup with the grown-ups."

and now i'm back.

'lil vent

dear full-of-yourself,

today i am mad because i waited too long to reject you and you beat me to the punch.

it felt humiliating to be gently let down, to listen to you break the news that you're "not that interested." it made my blood boil to know that you thought i would be disappointed or heartbroken.

i stared at you blankly as you delivered your bullshit speech. i'm guessing you thought i was trying to hold back tears. i wasn't. i was just thinking about how many self-centered assholes have given the exact same spiel and wondering, "is this shit written in a script somewhere and distributed to fuckwits the world over? where can i find a copy of this?"

you, sir, are ridiculous. you are ridiculous for assuming that everyone longs to have a romantic relationship with you when really i think you long to have a romantic relationship with you. you are ridiculous for thinking that you are the only one who thinks about the following: communism, hating your job, existential crises, and general discontent with early twentyshood. you aren't the only one who thinks about those things. carrying around books about revolution with bright red covers doesn't make you more brilliant than everybody else. you are ridiculous for thinking that logic is superior to human emotion.

...and i think you should seriously reconsider the length of your sideburns.

when we were talking about revolution, you said, "i think my skill is being an excellent public speaker. i can really mobilize the people. when i give a speech, it's impossible to disagree with me." not it's not! it's not! i disagree with you! loving the sound of your own voice doesn't make you an excellent public speaker!

you are just like everybody else. please hurry up and get over yourself already.

love,
not that into you

my point exactly.

phone conversation for which i chose to stay awake last night:

other: my life, my life! me me me and everything i know! *half an hour later* so what have you been up to?

me: do you ever feel like you are completely lost in the world? like you know who you are inside, but for some reason you can't project that...so you know that the people with whom you interact everyday don't really know you, they just know this false you and, no matter how hard you try, you can't bridge that disconnect between true you and false you...and it's so frustrating that it's all trapped in there...all the things you're passionate about and you love, your talents and potential...nobody even knows about them. like they are trapped and dying and there's nothing to look forward to and nobody really sees you or hears you. it's so isolating and lonely...you know?

other: uh, becca. i'm really struggling to stay awake. i actually have no idea what you've been saying for the last minute and a half. sorry.

me: oh. okay. um, good night.

other: night.

and now for something completely different...

ben took me sailing on lake washington last sunday. for some reason, he trusted me enough to steer. enough to steer under the bridge. we said we were sailing to china and a tiny part of me chose to believe it for a second, because we could, because nothing real was stopping us...only bills and work the next day and over-commitment.

anyway, there was potential and i felt ridiculously giddy just being outside of my comfort zone. ben somehow convinced me that i should do an apprenticeship. what? yeah, like learn to be an electrician or a sprinkler fitter or a locksmith. what?! me? ha! i'm a social worker and a chocolate factory tour guide. i know about people. i know about relating to people and helping people and analyzing people and listening to people and kissing people's asses. i'm still spending thousands of dollars on my 4-year liberal arts degree in anthropology.

well, i looked on the website at least. everything about these gigs sounds about 100% better than my life right now. more money. less debt. fewer rich bitchy women buying fancy chocolate.

new skillz.

treacherous, at best.

two winters ago, jodi, loyal, peter and i drove to des moines, iowa, through a blizzard, to see the red hot chili peppers. i remember that school was closed. when that happens at a college in minnesota, you can be sure that the weather is objectively bad.

i don't love the red hot chili peppers. i don't love iowa. i don't love driving through blizzards. i do rather like being alive, despite how much i complain about it.

so i can't remember why i decided to go. a free ticket, a chance for adventure. it was march 1, and that point of winter in minneapolis is a pretty desperate time. in retrospect, i wonder about my mental stability and ability to make rational decisions. cabin fever is for real.

we packed a survival kit. its contents were something like: a jade dragon, various spiritual writings, extra socks, and half a bottle of whiskey, a pink rock that said "lucky," a sodoku book, a copy of "forbes life," some gum, glowsticks, and a box of kleenex.

the highway was closed for most of the day. then it reopened for emergencies only. the radio said driving conditions were "treacherous, at best." well.



we lived. the concert was okay. we're lucky we lived. i give credit to the jade dragon.

wednesday morning i waited for the wrong bus. i don't know why. by the time i finally realized it was the wrong bus, i was nearly 30 minutes late for work. i waited in the pouring rain for the right bus and ate a doughnut while a homeless man told me about all the jobs from which he had been fired for tardiness.

saturday night, a recently married couple rented out the store for their reception. they knew about the space because they had been on my tour. luckily they gave me their leftover champagne. otherwise how would i have been able to deal with the toasts about love love and love and the glittered pine cone decorations. the party favors were little bird nest ornaments attached to clothes pins with the couple's names written on them. she gave me one. "you can cross out the names..."

i'm feeling similarly to how i did the day of the blizzard. my whole g.d. life is a minnesota winter right now. the conditions are all present for doing something equally spontaneous and foolish. i think i'd want to pack a slightly different survival kit though. only slightly.

m-my, but, uh, my stapler

when i was an intern at shelter back in the day, sj drew a big toothy mouth on a post-it note and wrote my name between the teeth. someone taped it to the stapler on my desk and there it remained for months, even when sj left, even when i left...now i'm not around there very often these days, but my stapler is still there and gives me some sense of belonging.

it's not there anymore. somebody worked really hard to peel all of those tape layers off the post-it note to free the stapler of my ownership. the becca-teeth are leaning against the security camera. next stop: garbage. i'm sure. i did just watch officespace. i know how these things work.