My Mumbling Thoughts

These days I tend to get ready only to get changed back into my jammies two hours later and never leave the flat.

Tomorrow. I can work on my list of things to do tomorrow.

It's simply too cold to get out of bed and face everybody outside of these four walls.

I sometimes wonder what would happen if I just never left the flat for like....a month. If I always had someone run out to buy me cigarettes, milk and sugar, I'm sure I'd be okay. I suppose I'd eventually have to get out and do something, but not now. Not when it's warm and smells like cranberries inside.

I always thought that it should be optional for people to stay at home when winter finally came round. What's the point of leaving the house when almost everything will shut down anyway? It's cold, it's icy and slushy. Nobody wants to deal with all of that. Instead, we should all remain indoors in comfy pajamas, with mugs of hot chocolate and have good chats. And when we're finished having chats, we should go up to our beds, crawl under the warm blankets and drift off to sleep where we have dreams about sleeping on a warm beach somewhere. That would be lovely. I don't want sugar plum fairies.

Whenever I'm sitting on the bus going to work (which is generally the only time I can be bothered to leave the flat), I stare out the window and peek into people's houses. It's interesting to see how other people set up their houses, and I wonder what their lives must be like. I imagine sitting on that particular sofa, in that particular room, having a conversation with that particular person. Perhaps we're drinking tea together and they let me borrow their fancy apple computer so I can check my facebook. They'll say something funny and I'll laugh at it. It'll be great.

The houses, all of them, they look so homey. There are pictures on book shelves, throw blankets on chairs and decorative lamps on end tables. And it makes me miss home. It makes me want to go back to Virginia. Not for a long while, but just so I can feel that secure feeling of home.

The flat is not homey. It's clean. Well, for the most part it's clean. It's very minimal and if it is untidy for whatever reason, it's generally not for that long. Helen, myself and probably Carlene as well, are afraid that if it's dirty that maybe the bugs will come back again. And we all hate the bugs. They're gross, and we're good people. Bugs do not happen to good people. Good, clean people at that.

This Thursday I took work off to celebrate Thanksgiving. Last year, Trish and I held Thanksgiving at our flat on campus, and this year we plan to squeeze in as many people into our flat that is humanly possible. We'll all gather round, say what we're thankful for, pile our plates sky high with food and then drink ourselves into the evening. Generally, I'd be with Momma and Mel and we'd fall asleep in front of the TV watching The West Wing or something along those lines. Part of me would like to be back in Virginia doing all of the things that I used to with Momma and Mel, but I'm also perfectly fine celebrating here with my extended English family.

But something is weird for me. Something that I can't quite put my finger on has been poking at me for the past couple of days, perhaps even weeks. I'm not exactly happy or sad these days. I just am. I sit about, the days slide by me, and I can't seem to muster up any kind of energy to care about things. Things just happen, and I have no opinion on the matter, other than who cares really? Why does it really matter and why are we so fucking concerned about it? Can't things just be normal for a change? Or does everything have to be such a show?

I'm thinking about getting away for a while. I think it'll do me some good to get out and away from university for a few days. I could do with clearing my head out. Emily (you remember my fellow worker bee from back in the day?) is spending one semester up in Scotland this year and if she's got some free time (and hopefully some space as well) I wouldn't mind catching a train and seeing her for a bit. Besides, I've never been to Scotland. It could do me some good to really get out of the flat. It's nice, but it's far too small and recently I've been feeling like we're all just on top of each other. I can only escape to my room so many times until even being in there becomes annoying.

I love London, I love my flatmates, and I certainly love that I'm back over here. But I'm tired of certain things and tired of looking at and hearing about the same shit all the time. It doesn't matter how long I stay and hide inside of my room, it's all going to still be there when I leave. My only problem is that while I'm in this mood, I can't be bothered to deal with it, and there's nowhere else in London that I can go to hide.

Posted by Sam at 11:07 PM | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBacks (0)

I can't remember when the change happened for me. It happened though. One day, I woke up and actually found boys interesting. They seemed different. They looked different. They made me feel different. They were no longer these annoying creatures that would pull my hair, throw dirt in my face or steal my juicebox at lunchtime. Didn't they used to have cooties? Didn't I used to hate them? When did I all of a sudden actually care about what they thought?

Back in middle school and high school, the drama between boys and girls was always a big deal. Who was so and so dating, when did he cheat on her, or when did she get drunk and cheat on him? He got who pregnant?! And why were they getting married so young? It was mental and didn't we all think at some point in time that we had found true love?

Mine was Micah McSwaine. Oh, that beautiful boy that when I first saw him, he sparked right through my entire body and made me think and feel things I had never felt before. He was so cute, so different, and in some ways so mysterious to me. He was a skateboarder; he spiked his hair with way too much gel, wore his skateboarder shorts low on his hips and had those DC shoes that were always loosely tied and kind of annoyed me. But it worked on him. Everything worked on him.

I'll never forget the day either...I was in 9th grade, Mr. Hurd's English class and at 9:30 in the morning, I sat two chairs behind Micah. Every day I would go to class and stare at the back of his head wondering what was rolling around in that brain of his. What did boys think about? Did he notice me? Surely not. I would think of ways that maybe we could speak and tried to be cool about it all, when really I'm sure I just came off as the world's biggest loser.

He dropped a pencil once and didn't notice. I picked it up at the end of the class and still have it in one of the many shoeboxes underneath my bed to this day. Does that make me a freak? Quite possibly.

As time went by and I got older, things changed a little bit, but not so much. Men and women still play silly little games whether we realize it or not. There are certain "rules" that one must follow if one wants to secure a decent boy/girlfriend. I, unfortunately, suck at the game and never follow the rules, leaving me frustrated, confused and generally in a grump against all men in general.

I go out from time to time, I meet different people, I occasionally pull a random guy here or there, or even (if I'm [un]lucky enough) get a bit of extra action, but I haven't exactly had anything substantial that's worth mentioning ever since I screwed things up with Ash, many moons ago. Sure, there has been the on again, off again saga between Boy Sam and myself, but other than that (which isn't exactly much), I've been a single lady, free as a bird, flying solo or what have you.

Usually I'm fine with that. I don't mind going out and doing things on my own, and I've got my girlies to keep me company who I love hanging out with.

But there are times when a girl doesn't really want all of her girlies around. She could do with a bit of man attention from time to time. A text message here. A movie night there. A sweet note or phone call every so often would be nice. Is that really so much to ask for?

Recently I've been a bit down with the lack of decent man action I've been having. I've found out some not-so-great news about Boy Sam (which just disgusts me and makes me want to puke), found out some other not-so-great news about that other boy I hooked up with that only proves that I live in the tiniest universe, and makes me want to hide underneath my covers until him and his current girlfriend fall off the planet. It feels like no matter how much I try or put myself out there, I'm always going to be the girl that gets stuck with the guy who dropped out of college and installs air conditioning units for a living and probably will for the rest of his life.

I then wonder if there's something wrong with me? I mean, something has got to be wrong with me in order to always attract the ones that I want to forget about and can't seem to keep a hold of the ones that I actually find interesting and seem to have some kind of potential. Am I always going to be punished for my actions in the past? Or, is some part of me subconsciously bringing all of this on myself?

Who knows?

I can take some comfort in knowing that I am not the only one though. Today, whilst Helen and I were out and about in Hammersmith (I got a second tattoo, because I needed it), we overheard a couple of girls having the same conversation that Helen and I have had on more than one occasion.

Gril 1: "I don't get it, I sent him a text this morning saying 'hi, how are you' and he didn't text back."

Girl 2: "Aw, well why don't you give it a bit and send him a text tonight?"

Girl 1: "Well I don't want it to look like I was waiting all day for his reply."

It would seem that I'm not alone in this big 'ole city. Not all of us are walking the streets hand-in-hand with their lover, squishing each other's faces and blocking me from my destination by walking extra slow so they can gaze longingly into each other's eyes. And while it does make part of me churn with sickness, another small part of me hates to admit that I'm slightly jealous and wishes that I, too, could have someone squish my face. In the good way, that is.

Posted by Sam at 10:39 PM | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBacks (0)

Helen is my best friend.

Hands down, my best friend in the whole world. Our relationship is borderline obsessive, I'm sure. I also like to think that I'm not on a one way street here, but that she too, feels the same way about me. If I were a man (or she were a man) or we were both lesbians, I'm more than positive we would be in a romantic relationship with each other. It's just how things are. It's how close we are.

I remember my first thoughts when I met her as well. I wrote about it up here, saying that I could see myself becoming good friends with her. We got on really well and she was the first person in the flat that I felt really close to. I also thought it was quite funny how similar we were even though we had never met each other and lived an ocean apart. I always said she was the English version of me (if I were responsible and put together) and I was the mental American version of her.

In the short time that we've known each other (a little over a year now), it feels like we've known each other for ages. I sometimes wonder how I've got on without her before now. While we are both independent women (and damn proud), we also do quite a bit of things together. We have sat up and talked to each other in the middle of the night on so many occasions I've lost count. We shop together, eat together, walk places together, dance together, drink together, laugh together, cry together...you catch my drift. And if I do go out without her, I generally get extremely drunk and emotional, and Helen is always the first person I cry out for, which is quite a compliment in my book.

Our relationship is just what every friendship should be like in my perfect world. I am completely comfortable around her. If we're sat in the same room and it's completely quiet, I don't feel weird or awkward. We don't need to fill the silence. Generally we're either cooking or sat on the computer, but I've never felt uncomfortable like one of us needs to say something. It just is. And it's cool.

Even over the past summer when we were separated until her and Jon came to visit me in VA, we still chatted almost every day. And if we weren't able to chat via msn, we could expect one or the other to have an email or facebook message waiting for us after we came home from work.

Getting back into the uni groove was a bit of a challenge for me this year. It didn't really take me that long to adjust living off campus and it did at the same time. I had thoughts and ideas of what I wanted, but actually putting those thoughts and ideas into action proved to be a lot more difficult then I had orginally thought. I wanted to expand my social circle and not go to every single uni event like before. I wanted to get out into Central a lot more and get a new crowd that wasn't so incestuous and everyone being in each other's business, knowing every little detail about everyone else's lives. I just wanted something a bit more new and fresh.

After a couple weeks into uni, I felt a slight shift in mine and Helen's friendship. Something was a bit off and funny. I couldn't quite put my finger on it, but I knew something had changed. And not for the better.

We weren't talking as much as we used to and now whenever there were silences, you could actually feel the silence. You felt the presence and I was beginning to think things that I had never thought before. I wasn't sure how to act and actually thought about what I would say to her before I even said it. I wondered if she thought differently of me now? Was she judging me? Did something happen and she was keeping it from me? Did I do something to offend her? Why all of a sudden was she going off and doing her own thing? She seemed so much more secretive and I wasn't sure why. What had happened that we all of a sudden had this Weirdness*?

It bothered me a lot. I obsessed over it as if I would obsess over a man. I over analysed things that she did, the way that she said things, her body language as if she were constantly keeping something from me and I would find out by other ways of secret communication that she didn't realize she was doing. I mean, she had told me that she was feeling a bit off and not quite like herself, but she didn't exactly elaborate or give me much detail and that didn't seem right. Generally we would sit and have a three hour conversation about why she felt that way, what could be the possible source or reason as to why she was feeling that way and then we would try and think of a solution as to how to make the bad feeling go away.

We are quite thorough.

But this time it seemed as if she wanted to work through the problem herself, which was fine with me, but also a bit confusing. It concerned me and I wondered if this was the beginning to an end of a really good friendship. I had mental thoughts like, "oh well, all good things come to an end, don't they? This usually happens with you and your really good friendships with women. You do something, they get bored or fed up and then eventually drift away. Way to go you social retard."

Then one day, randomly, the Weirdness didn't seem to be there anymore. We were fine, having chats, having a bit of a laugh and carrying on as if nothing had happened in the first place. My paranoid thoughts were put to rest and I thought it was probably just a phase that some friendships go through and we had survived. All friends need a break from each other. Sometimes the break is a good thing and gives you time to appreciate your friendship. That is until Kate Nash came up.

Helen: "You don't want to go and see Kate Nash with me, do you?"

Me: "What? What are you talking about? Of course I do. Why wouldn't I?"

Helen: "I don't know. I just figured you didn't want to go with me."

And the Weirdness was back.

Why would she say such a thing? Of course I wanted to go and see Kate Nash with her! I was really looking forward to it! I had been looking forward to it ever since she told me in the summer that she had bought the tickets. When did this thought enter her mind about me not wanting to see the brilliant Kate Nash? I didn't like that she thought this. This was not good. Not good at all.

I knew the conversation that needed to be had. We had briefly touched on the subject a couple of times (once when I was really drunk and emotional - standard), but never really in depth down to the roots like how we usually chat. We never really properly grabbed the bull by the horns, so to speak, and left both feeling much better about everything.

So I started to talk.

And she did as well.

Helen: "Well there has been a weirdness, you know?"

Me: "A weirdness? With what?"

Helen: "Between us."

So she had recognized it as well. I wasn't alone with my feelings. This made me feel slightly better.

It was a little strained getting the conversation going, but it quickly got a lot smoother and I learned that she was feeling the same way about me. Neither one of us really wanted to mention it at first or acknowledge the Weirdness, because in a way, that means that there's a problem, and we've never encountered anything like it in our friendship, ever. We don't have problems. What it came down to (after we chatted about it and combed through every last morsel of detail), is that we kept on missing each other throughout the past weeks; I'd either be at work, or she was at a lecture, or I had plans to go out with some co-workers, or she'd be seeing her friends in Kingston or Camden. We didn't really have time to sit down with each other like we used to and chat shit until the sun came up. Our Helen and Sam time had been cut in half without us noticing. After a while though, I thought she just didn't want to hang out with me and Helen thought that I wanted a new crowd completely, excluding her, which simply wasn't the case at all.

Our little paranoid minds went into overdrive and we imagined the worst case scenarios. What if we had a giant argument and fell out completely with each other? I scare Helen quite a bit as well when I'm angry, and it made her extra nervous that I may even punch her square in the face. Of course I never would, but in our mental worlds, you never know. Crazy things go down. We thought that we were bored of each other, or perhaps something that used to be funny and quirky was so absolutely annoying now that we couldn't even stand to be in the same room as the other person. You just never know.

Me: "Well, just because I've been going out with Paloma and such, doesn't mean I don't want to hang out with you anymore. I don't want you to think that you're being replaced or anything."

Helen" "No, I know that. I mean, you can have other friends. We can have an open relationship."

It was so funny. We both started laughing histerically. We really were a married couple. The air was finally clear and it was good to have a laugh and shake the Weirdness off for good this time. We're just as bad as each other and while we may have a lull or two every so often, I know that I can go and talk to Helen about anything. Even about the Weirdness.

*
weirdness:

noun
1. strikingly out of the ordinary [syn: outlandishness]
2. A random phase that two good friends can go through whenever they don't spend enough time with each other.

Posted by Sam at 03:51 PM | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBacks (0)