My teeth hurt...I hope I don't have a cavity or something

A guy I haven't seen in a while asked me how I'd been the past few months. I replied, "Fine. Same old, same old."

I feel like I've been using that response far more than I should be doing in the past few months. It's kind of irritating. When my Chinese Horoscope for 2009 said that this year would be "a year for treading water - just try to stay afloat" I didn't actually realize it would be so bang on.

Oh well.

God, I'm such a moaner these days.

I guess I've just never had my head so far up my own ass - I literally change what I think my "plan" is every other day. One day, I'm sure I'm firmly planted in the US, ready to apply for MFA programs for Fall 2010 here. Then, I have a conversation with a friend in Manchester and I'm ready to apply for my Masters there. Or then I'll have wild dreams of packing up and moving to LA, finished script in hand, certain that Brad Grey would pick it up in a millisecond, fully-fund it and thus cement my cinematic future.

So, right now I guess my current predicament is US or UK? While it's been a total blessing to be from both parts of the world, I always fear that this is going to be a question that I'll never be able to answer. I love the US. I love England. With all of my heart. When I'm here, I miss it over there. I miss my friends, proper cups of tea, my family, Marmite, mushy peas, Minstrels, Maltesers, the humour, even the constant gloomy precipitation.

When I'm there, I miss it over here - baseball, Saturday Night Live, driving aimlessly in cars, laziness, excessive friendliness in the service industry (well, it is there in SOME places), my brothers, the humor...it goes on.

How can I find a career that will permit me to spend six months of the year in each place? Hmmm....let's tally that to the list of dreams floating through my head.

So, it's cheaper for me to do my Masters in the UK, because I'm a citizen and what not, but I'm fairly certain the programs here are better. But, of course, I'll be over $30,000 in debt when I'm finished.

Balls.

Alright - Fate, I am leaving this one up to You. I'm going to apply to a bunch and whichever one I get into that gives me butterflies, that's where I'll go.

Separately, is it just me or is everyone getting married and/or having babies? And are these side effects of the recession? Please tell me that people aren't struggling so much/bored because they have no money to go out/lonely and confused in the current economic climate that marriage and procreation are seemingly the best tonics.

Hmm...maybe also, please tell me to stop being so cynical.

This post is boring.

This is quite funny. I wonder if that's going to be my future living situation? I hope not.

I Feel Like This Shouldn't Be Real

I've had a surreal night with my Mother, here in Chicago. It's been really fun, but, ultimately, I'm just trying to find a place to smoke right now where the sirens won't go off.

We pinpointed places that we'd been together. Together. She was nearly 30. I was a baby. I don't remember.

And then we pinpointed a place where Dad had fucked up the first time, not the last time, and we all went dilly dally.

And then she pointed out the building where I got the "photo" shoots for my session as a 6-month old auditioning for the Shout commercial that I never got because I was "too bald" and didn't have the abundence of red curly hair that my rival had.

Shit.

Fuck to that.

And then, we sat, looking out over the Chicago skyline, reminiscing. That's a good word. When it's true. We did. We did it to its fullest degree.

And she looked at the Sears Tower and said, "Remember the time that I took you up there, you could have only been about 4, or so, and we went to the top, and I MADE you stand on the edge and look downwards. You cried.

And I said, 'Diana, it's only glass!'

You were only 4."

My whole life, I thought that was my father that did that.

27 years of false memories.

Not sad. But funny.

Life is fucking hilarious.

I Like Good People

Like having conversations with people who actually look you in the eyes when you talk to them.

Or having cool-as-hell Harvard Poetry Professors recommend amazing poets that literally change your life. And then them be willing to give you personal "lessons" on the poems while you're working.

Or people who tell you your drinks are "scrumptous".

Or people who tell you you're funny and should write sitcoms when you're having a lonely day.

Or when you tell people you're reading Orwell's Down And Out In Paris And London and they say, "I read that when I was really down-and-out" and you understand exactly what they mean.

Or people who are older than you who tell you, "It's going to get better" in a very non-condescending way.

Or people who use the word "plethora" or "discombobulated" just when you were about to.

Or people who convince you that your weird toenail isn't so weird because they "have one exactly like it".

I need to keep my Good People glasses on more often.

PS. I loved when Shane Jones' blog was titled I Think You Are A Good Person. I wish he kept it.

I Could Sleep For Days

I'm so tired these days. I can't sleep a full night through without waking up. It's ridiculous.

Last night, I was reading Rumi before I went to sleep and then I had a very vivid dream of being a child, in the middle east (I'm pretty sure it was Iraq) running away from war and bombs and guns and snipers and generally everything that is associated with military combat. It was fucking terrifying. The land was arid and open, with only a few chalky, dead tree stumps for me to hide behind when a truck or a tank drove past. I don't think I was hiding from one particular side - just everyone in general.

I hate those dreams that are so frightening that you even wake up doused in fear. It took me a large portion of the morning to shake it off.

That said, I've finally figured out what I'm getting for a tattoo...I'm psyched about it.

I haven't written anything properly in over a week now. Not good. My 15-page weekly assignment is put on hold I guess until after I get back from this wedding next week.

I can't wait to see my mom.

Blerg

I feel the need to change something today. I don't know what. But something. Other than my underwear of course.

Hot Chip...

is playing now in the cafe. It makes me miss England.

Ahhh...I can't concentrate.

I feel stupid today. Everything I've written is horse vomit. Everything I've typed has already been written, I'm sure.

My back hurts and I'm in the mood to speak French with someone. Perhaps I'll distract myself further and try and find un nouveau ami.

Tuesday.

Things I can't live without:

1)Pens
2)Hummus
3)Sunglasses
4)iPod

I'm having a Diesel Day. Never mind it began around 3pm. And never mind I've been mostly reading instead of writing. I'm still here. All day. Until closing.

I'm drowning in Yehuda Amichai right now. I hadn't really read a lot of his work and then I was chatting about Tagore with this Poetry Professor at Harvard the other day and he reminded me of Amichai.

I. Love. It.

I also love The And Company.

I went to see them in JP last night and it was, as usual, amazing. I feel like they just get better and better every time I see them. This new song, White Dress, nearly made me wet myself.

Right, I'm going to stop procrastinating.

I wish I was sitting in a booth now.