Random Saturday Blog

I wish I could blog more often... I wish I could take all of my random thoughts and make this blog worthwhile... I wish I could just sit and write something brilliant..and I really wish I had the guts to blog at work! But I slack enough...

I love that some of us love our alma maters. That they think their alma maters are God' s gift to the world. But I wish that people would also just realize these places are not the best for everyone, and ... dare I say it, not the best, period! I guess I just don't fully comprehend the "pride" thing, cuz clearly that's not a quality of mine.

I wish I could skip forward; no, go back and start over. I wish things were accessible; grasp-able (okay I think I made up that word); within reach.

I wish the day, the day you went away, never would've happened my baby (Robyn, I Wish accapella, download it)

So last night I hung out with a boy - a young boy - and his friends.. I could just say all of them were white, but one friend was Persian, one was white, and my friend.. c'mon ya'll know me, he was black. We went out to Lower Greenville.. I guess cause that's what white folks do... he bought drinks (cool), and he was touchy-feely (not cool), even after I told him I am NOT a touchy-feely person. Is this part of your game? Touch me and I'm yours? At the end of the night, his friends (just in town for the weekend) were off on an adventure to fuck some fat girls. I guess that's how white folks get down...
(I kind of hated the way they called them fat. Like the problem was that they were overweight. The problem was that they were ugly.. okay I won't be mean.. not cute. But c'mon, lets be clear about the problem here).

My friend in Atlanta.. what to do, what to do. Like, it has potential. But because it's been this long-distance thing, and we've only serious logged about.. hmm... 9 hours total of actually face-to-face time (7 of those within party settings), the whole thing has just never progressed. I love him as a friend, but dream of him as something more, but not that encompassing dream-crush type thing.. just a fleeing thought some days, something on the backburner. I guess that's the way like goes post-college. Or maybe I've actually learned from the past... stop dreaming.

I think I quite dreaming in high school. Dys-is-fucked-up-functional families will do that to you. Reality comes crashing in. Your parents are not exactly who you thought. It's like as you grow up and your mind develops and you learn new words, you are able to better perceive the qualities of your parents.

Life is not so, so bad. But I need it to come up. I need to come up. I don't like learning one little thing at a time, but life is working out that way.

What About Your Friends

It was either that title or "Friends, How many of us have them?" Classic cuts about the people that bind us to the rest of the world. I love those songs. Really, where would we be without our friends? Brainwashed by our parents I guess.
I love connecting to people; learning their deepest thoughts & motivations. The sane & crazy parts of them. Those I deem my close friends are my close friends because I feel like we have cultivated a strong connection.

I must acknowledge that we all have different identities with each of our friends; much in the same way we have different friends for different reasons. In a way the distance heightens these differences. Some friends are great for just cuttin up; others are perfect for deep philosophical nonsense. There are friends that I can tell everything (well.. Almost everything. As much of the truth as I can bear!) about my sex life to; to others, it's never mentioned. Yet, I consider each and every one of them close personal friends.

Over the last few months I've had the chance to spend time with these friends I hadn't really had quality time with since graduation. Phone calls, email & facebook - it's just not the same. And I absolutely loved seeing my friends. It can be hard when the closest person who knows anything about LATEX, Club Gate & the stoop are 12 hours away.

BUT, Maybe before I was lying to myself. Or now I am being more honest with myself. There were times on all my trips I wondered, "Why am I friends with this person?" And what's crazy - I am literally discovering this as I type - that there was a common theme that made me ask that question. It was the emergence of selfishness. For some reason I am friends with folk that like to talk about themselves. I don't mind that (most of the time). What bothers me is that they don't ask, "And you?" I'm a person who asks thought-provoking (okay maybe a bit meddling) questions. Above all, you cannot say I do not act interested in getting to know the person in the skin. Some of my friends used to practice this as well; it just seems that maybe they forgot how to over the past year. Either that, or my pessimistic self tells me that they just don't care. But how could you not care? Aren't we friends in the most literal and defining sense of the word?

Friendships, like all relationships, are about a connection - the good times, the warm fuzzies. I went on all these trips in part to prolong and strengthen relationships. I was in dire need of warm fuzzies; like a Sim low on social points. It sucks when you don't know when you'll get warm fuzzies again.