True Dat

New York: The Fugue State

Guy #1: You know what the best thing ever is?
Guy #2: No, what?
Guy #1: When you wake up in the morning and have absolutely no idea what happened the night before or how you got home.
Guy #2: Ummm, not so sure that is the best.

--Brooklyn bound F train

via Overheard in New York, Nov 10, 2006

conundrum

It's weird. I fluctuate between periods of fiercely guarded solitude, and intense social activity. For example—in the past four weeks, I’ve gone out/seen friends/been somewhat social exactly twice. I manage to keep in touch with everybody, but I don’t do anything. ANYTHING. However, when I manage to get out—I kind of go over the top. But that’s balanced with quiet homebody time. In bed by nine, awake at five—and productive around the house and school work stuff. I love that time.

But now—I’m all extroverted. Out on Sunday (not good on Sunday, but out). Out last night, out tonight, out Friday night.

And suddenly, the whole spinsterhood crap isn’t working for me either—even if I wanted it to, it’s not. It’s just weird, that’s all. I don’t know how this happens. How do I go from no social life, to almost too much social life?

writhing

So, occasionally, I'm a complete idiot.

Just occasionally, mind you.

We here in idiot land have a saying. Sometimes, my self mortifies myself. Oh, right now, writhing in mortification. I just, sometimes, make AWFUL choices. AWFUL. And the thing is--ironically, I spent most of the day calming a friend down who was mortified at herself. And then I go and...ugh, I'm just so embarrassed.

Granted, I could have been much worse that I actually was--but still! Oh...shit.

Writhing.

Mortified.

I want to go back to bed...

And spend, oh, I don't know, months there. Months. And not ever answer the phone again. Or be seen in public. Oh my. How....how? How can I even have friends? I am very lucky to have the friends I have, and that they love me even though I am so mortifiyingly stupid. I'm full of stupidosity. Yep. Oh my...