SheFallsSoftly

I am busy, forgetful, and exhausted. These are my days. I attend classes and dance for hours and hours. I work. I see Whitney. People come over to my apartment, they get wasted. Sometimes I get wasted. I watch the chaos, I take part. I forget my homework. I forget my debate work. I dance some more.  I sleep for hours and hours on end and wake up still exhausted. I run about the restaurant until my feet hardly work the next day, and then I dance on them. I dance through hangovers. I dance through depression and anxiety. I take pills to normalize, and then drink to enhance, and then sleep. And sleep. And sleep.

I’m living the college life that they said I was supposed to, I’m misbehaving and barely scraping by. Don’t you wish you were in my shoes? Maybe you are. Maybe you were, but you’re tired of being there. I’m here. Where are you?

Everything feels like dancing, doesn’t it? A set of choreography through which I stumble, steps that I can’t seem to follow, customs that I don’t know. Sometimes, though, I keep up and when I do it feels so good…

I love this part of relationships. The "everything is new and lovely and I can’t conceive of having and argument with you" part. The part where I buy one-month anniversary presents a few weeks too early, the part where we are with each other every second and it’s so peaceful and regular that I could fall into our affection like a reflecting pond.

I touch her, all soft, all feminine, all woman and wonder how I could have ever wanted something harder, rougher, more masculine. Sometimes, though, I wonder how I could live without it. It’s difficult. I want both, but really you can only have one or the other.

I’m so awkward in this skin, sitting, thinking, "Hmm my stomach feels hollow, perhaps I’m hungry? No, that’s just the pill I swallowed on an empty stomach digesting." Physical cues get confused with neuroses, and I sleep and sleep and sleep.. but I feel normal. Truly normal. Sometimes the panic seeps through it, panic over stupid things, "I never got that book back that she borrowed!" "Do I have to work tomorrow?!" and then a few seconds later it passes like magic.  That is not my way. We all know that that is my way. I dwell for days and days until it all breaks down and I’m lost in a lake that I’ve made. I’m learning to swim, I suppose.

So, the break-up situation and its wake have become significantly less easy to deal with than I would have hoped initially. Luckily, today I remembered that I don’t have to be polite and as such I can feel free to write whatever I want about how I feel… No matter who it offends.

I find myself missing Billy not for who he is/was, but for the simple truth that I found someone I could have more or less contentedly spent my life with and that I didn’t have to worry about casual dating anymore. I really hate casual dating, I have such a hard time deciding to be into someone that it’s such a futile effort… I just didn’t want to have to do it anymore.

This depression has made me, occassionally, reach out for billy again.. Not romantically, just as a friend. Today I was in some deeper depths and told him that I was feeling deperessed… And he ran off to dinner. Just like that. “Stop being depressed. Dinner time now.”

It is these small acts of utter disinterest that remind me how little he actually cares for me… And it makes things easier and harder in many ways… Easier because all of the sudden I realize that he doesn’t really still want to be close, at least not yet. It makes things harder because I realize that his new girl thing is real, and there’s just not much I can do about that. Even if I went all sobby like last summer, I wouldn’t be able to get him back.

I don’t like all of the anxiety I’ve been having recently, and it doesn’t help that I’ve more or less stopped writing about it… I keep telling myself I’ll make an appointment to get some anxiety medication, but I keep not doing it. I think I will tomorrow… If I can keep giving myself writing assignments, and if it doesn’t make me less coordinated (dance concerns) I don’t think I’ll be losing anything… And if it can make my life a little more bearable on the day-to-day, then I’d really be gaining something.

Thank you everyone who went to my show this weekend, I’m so lucky to have so many good friends.

So, the past few weeks have been a pretty solid reminder of why I hate casual dating so much. Previously I have been very talented at finding myself a boy of interest and sticking with him for at least a few months. This summer, though, the few stabs in the dark I have made have been messy and unfulfilling. It makes me wish I was a bit more independent, that I could find happiness in work, school, dance, writing and leave boys entirely out of the equation. It’s not as if my life is empty, really it’s anything but. The bigger problem is that at night my bed is empty and it’s so hard to sleep alone.

I suppose this is my fault as much as everyone else’s. I am not easy to get along with. I’m unapolegetically intellectual, and get told a lot that I’m elitist. I’m abrasively forward, uncomfortably open, and honest to a fault. I don’t play games, which prevents many connections from being founded. More than anything, though, I just can’t keep my head in the game.

It’s strange. I’ve always thought of my life as a sort of absurd farce where the worst possible thing loves to happen at the worst possible time. Usually, though, it feels very real as it’s happening. This summer I feel as if I’m quietly laughing at everything as it happens. “Oh, he’s hitting on my roommate. Isn’t that funny? I guess I should be upset.”

I think maybe it’s a summer of important formations for me… I came to some sudden realizations in the last week or so. In general, my relationships take the following pattern: Boy meets Casey, Casey pursues Boy, Boy falls for Casey, Casey mistreats boy. However, Billy took me to the exact opposite of that extreme. This was not, to be clear, fault on his part. I’ve decided that my new and improved definition in love is best summed up as “the mutual discovery of what it takes to make the opposite partner happy.” This means that if I needed Billy to ignore my phonecalls and be kind of a jerk, then he did the right thing. Of course, in a vacuum this sounds sort of strange, but in practice it makes quite a bit of sense. I needed someone to show me what it felt like to be on the other side of the equation, and I needed someone to give me faith in the fact that there could be relationships where power was equal. In that sense, Billy has helped me to grow as a person and I’m glad for it.

That growth, however, is sort of difficult. Much like a tree can grow crooked without a post, I am squirming to figure out the best way to form. All the sudden, I have quite a bit of confidence and faith in myself. If someone mistreats me I have very little discrepancy with letting them know. If I am not interested in them, I let them know. The choice I have to make at this juncture is who I would like to be. How “clingy” do I wish to stay? How dedicated?

A simple example; Casey asks Boy for X. Boy says X will occur. Later, Boy says X will not occur. Casey is upset. Boy is annoyed at her upsetness. Do I want to say that X must happen, or that X must not be promised if it will not happen? Realistically, I am probably not particularly committed to any particular Boy, so it might make more sense to say that X must not be promised. But what kind of commitment do I want from Boy? It’s really a difficult situation.

The world is a strange place, but it’s nice to feel independent…

Well looky here.. A public post. How novel!

Sorry that I’ve been so incredibly absent of late, I’ve been trying to piece together how I feel about the world… I still haven’t, but I thought I might clue the world in to a few of my thoughts.

More than anything, I’m tired of being lectured by so many people… I know that breakups are hard. I know that it’s probably a bad idea to jump right into something new. I realize that I’m probably doing things wrong, the poignant thing is that i just don’t really care right now. I’m not going to act against my intuition even if it is wrong most of the time… Whatever I do will get me to where I need to be, even if I get a little banged up on the way. Thank you all for all of your advice, just try not to get upset at me for not taking it. I’m trying to do this as maturely as possible while still retaining some aspect of who I am.

Who I am.. that’s such a curious concept these days… I sent Billy a message right before the breakup promising to change a thousand different things about myself if it meant that he would want me in his life. If I can promise my identity away for stability, is there anything at the core of me worth saving? Probably. It’s hard to try to live for yourself after living for someone else for so long.

Regardless of all of that, I’ve been having fun recently. Been on a whole number of dates with a certain boy, seen many of my once-estranged friends. I had a ballet class with Pseudodance last night that was kind of a trainwreck but fun nonetheless. Leila’s a bad ass.

I’m looking for a new job. If anyone has any non-waiting jobs they think I might like, they should clue me in. I’d like a desk-type job so that I don’t have to be afraid that my incredibly variable income will fall through.

On another note, in the spirit of not keeping secrets I’m going to go ahead and reveal my side project that I’ve previously been keeping quiet. I’ve applied to be a Suicide Girl, my first photo shoot is tomorrow. I think it’s an interesting thing to do, and an experience I’d like to have.

Work is still dead. I will still get you drunk if you come in. Why must you forsake me?

I won’t lie.. I only wrote publicly in the hopes that it would help me write some poetry.

So, in a remarkable surprise turnaround, I am, against all odds, both single and completely fine. I was expecting at least a few weeks of last summer’s anxiety and depression but I made a whirlwind recovery. I know the world laments for the loss of bitter break-up poetry, but I’m rather happy with my lack of need for medication for the time being. I believe the pool is still accepting bets as to when this all hits me and I freak out.

In a similar vein, I don’t think I’ll be dating any time in the next four months. Dear lord people, please remind me of this when I meet some guy who is "Seriously, really cute and so smart and I mean, I just like him, you know?" If it’s a girl, let me be. I believe the pool is also taking bets on how quickly I’ll fall off of that wagon.

In other news, I am kinkier than I thought.

I’ve been spending a rather remarkable amount of time with Mikale recently, who is an absolutely phenomenal person. I’ve been missing Christopher dearly and am very excited at his new romance.  Leila has a show this weekend at the Home for Wayward Poets fundraiser, which should be pretty awesome.

Classes are uneventful, mostly because I don’t actually have to attend them. Online classes are seriously the shit. What was I thinking actually going to classes all this time?

Work is dead. Come visit me sometime. I’ll give you liquor in exchange for generous tips…

I suppose that I’ll tell you about my recent activities. A few weeks back Billy and I took off to South Padre Island island. I just returned home from a week in Las Vegas. The trip was nice, I spent a lot of time with Sara and Justin who I’ve missed terribly. I’m also now decorated with two new tattoos. My little sister graduated while I was there, so we’re all proud of her being the first amongst us to walk.

I’ve been having lots of fun parties at my apartment… I think every night since I’ve been home we’ve had some quantity of people over and played guitar hero and singstar (awesome karaoke game) and went swimming and got really very trashed. If you read this and you want to come, you’re probably invited.

I’ve been meeting with a photographer recently for a too-private-for-the-internets photo project I’m going to be starting. Once again, if you read this and you want to know what’s up, just ask.

A note to the future if my poetry gets famous: focus on the falling imagery, and the drowning imagery.

Instead of letting my mind wander recently, I’ve started using a mantra. "There is so much beauty in the world" is the beginning, and then I list off every beautiful thing I can think of "Rain, baby toe nails, lamps in the darkness, fireflies, the ocean, flower petals.." with now and then "There is so much beauty in the world" thrown in again. It feels like I’m drowning (flag the page here, future howard scholars hahaha) in the realization that I am so small and that I appreciate almost nothing of what is around me. We as a culture need to creat our danger, but we need to create our beauty as well. We have art shows and dance and hedged gardens because we equate order and symmetry with beauty, and really all of those things are beautiful as well but have you ever really looked at the inside of a plum and thought about how gorgeously wet and almost violently fleshy it looks? It’s hard to be upset about anything when I realize that, it’s hard to dwell on the unhappy things.

This moment is the first time I’ve been alone since I left Las Vegas. There is so much beauty in the world.

So, Carnality Ball is the big news du jour. It happened last night and was ridiculously awesome. I guess I’ll give you the line by line?

I got there at 8 (right when it was supposed to open) so that Nicole Moan could tie me into my corset (which I bought about a week ago). Because no night is complete without me doing something ridiculously stupid, I locked my keys into my car and therefore left my money in there too. I had the good sense to bring my ticket with me, though, and Billy had a spare set at his apartment only a few miles away. I did, however, get to hang around carnality without my money or phone for about 2 hours waiting for him to show up with Andrea and Chris while Rebekah and I struggled to get my corset onto me right and talked with a porn star among others.

I managed to miss the dance performance by OU’s modern dance company, but caught Perpetual Motion’s arial stuff. I thought it was really interesting to watch, lots of incredible acrobatics, but not really my bag as far as dance goes. I also saw Pseudodance’s performance. They went up twice, once at the very beginning to be painted while dancing. They were airbrushed by Nicole Moan’s father. Apparently after this performance Leila was tipped 5 dollars by a random woman, thus inspiring the vicarious bit of esprit d’escalier of the title of this post. Their second performance was absolutely incredible. They did essentially 2 married pieces, and one other right after. It was a very interesting take on bondage as a form of looking for connections (I think).

The fascinating thing about Pseudodance/Kabaret Falschtanz is the way in which they regard sexuality. At their Kabaret shows, they make fun of it, they get hurt by it, they engage in it. They confront sexuality head on. At their Modern shows, they engage sexuality in such an incredibly raw way, so bare in their portrayal of human nature. In their song set they were being tied to things and each other and blindfolded, stranded away from the other dancers, and they would reach out in the most mournful way, when they would finally receive touch it was only with this look of deep sorrow on their face. Leila and Lynna did the most heartbreaking piece I’ve ever watched atop a spinning platform, just wrapped up in eachother and making the subtlest expressions and movements, turning, turning, turning, needing, needing, needing, but seemingly never getting quite what they are looking for.

I was absolutely stunned by their work. I always am, though. In their set Leila cut her foot and danced through it. That was pretty hardcore on her part.

At some point, there was a whipping demonstration on stage which I watched for about 5 minutes before getting inexplicably uncomfortable with the situation. I’m not entirely certain… regardless, about half an hour later they were demonstrating on willing audience members and I played mistress while my leashed Andrea got beaten. It was quite the event.

Somewhere in all of this mess I bought myself $20 worth of raffle tickets for a gift basket that included a ceramic corset by Nicole Moan, a bunch of movies, some buttons, a bunch of condoms, and some sex toys. I had to stay until 2 am to find out if I had won the drawing (oh my goodness exhausted) and actually did! I now am the proud owner of one green flame corset, and one lovely purple one. Fantastic.

It was a long night, but was terrific. I got hit on by dozens of boys and ending up claiming anyone I knew around me as my significant other. I got called beautiful more times than I could count. I did the makeup of several people, got some dressed, did some hair, and we all looked stunning. I got to watch a lot of what turned out to be less "sexy" in a conventional sense and more "philosophical" in the sense that every part of show forced me to really consider what sex meant to me, what sexy was to me. That and it was all good fun.

Been awhile, hasn’t it? I don’t have a good explanation. Things have been worrisome and okay and then worrisome again and finally okay. There have been lots of medical concerns in my life, and none on me, and they have all come back with good results. Medical issues have been a theme of the month. Billy has gotten sick, and a few others.

On the flip side, everyone in my life has been very grown up recently. Billy bought a very lovely house, Leila bought her own car; it’s all rather impressive. Me and my zero financial dependence on the parents sort of looks unimpressive when you consider the quantity of financial aid that i’ve gotten.

I’ve been spending more and more time with Chris as of late, and lots of conversations with Rebekah. It’s nice to feel like I’ve got a sturdy group of friends to fall back on when I need them.

Carnality ball is this weekend, an event I have been gearing up for with much anticipation. I’ve purchased a porcelain corset from Nicole Moan with a green flame print, and will likely look pretty rocking hot. Coming with me will be Billy (whose makeup I get to do!), Chris (whose chest I will be painting), Rebekah, Andrea, and maybe others.

My life has been peaceful recently. Financially at ease, relationship is calm and happy, friends to spend time with, family without drama… the lives of those around me, though, they have been the messy ones. I will count April as a good month for me and move past it.

I finished my finals as of yesterday, and am now free for the month. Billy and I are going to South Padre Island for a weekend at the end of it, and then I start summer school for a month. The last month of summer will be free as well.

So at our first Open division tournament, lindsay and I went 3-5 on a whole bunch of close ballots. I thought we were pretty amazing.

I’m starting my new project for next semester, I’ve kind of got big plans for debate? I’m pretty excited about everything I’m taking on, I kind of want to be good I guess. I don’t know that debate is the thing I want to be doing the most, but it’s something that I’m good at that I’ll do for now.

All of these "where am I?" "who am I?" "what is my purpose?" questions recently roll like water off my back, Just doesn’t seem to matter anymore. What am I trying to know better anyway?

Today I wrote a personal ad, as an assignment in class. We were supposed to write to the music that we search for. Here’s mine:

Seeking pensive melodies wrapped around wistful words that will make my stomach drop. First connections are everything, simplicity is key. Must be willing to touch the tender spots until I don’t know if I’ll scream or cry, and to coax the tears out on lonely nights. This isn’t about satisfaction, I’ve been satisfied before. This is about the unfulfilled passion, the heart wrenching agony of wanting something you know you’ll never get.

Lindsay and I are officially National Champions. We won finals on a 3-0, I was 3rd speaker, she was 6th.

That is pretty much the only thing in my life that really feels like it is going well.