Post Whatever You Are Thinking At This Very Moment

What the hell would be the point of vegan sausages if they had pork in them?!?! Besides, meat has been grossing me out lately. Between vegan sausages and dolmades I might just make it as a vegetarian. You like dolmades don't you, pep?
I've actually never had them. At least I don't think I have. I once went for an awful works Christmas dinner in a Greek restaurant, so I guess it's quite possible, but I don't remember them. I used to think I might like to try them, but lately something has inexplicably put me off the idea. Curious.

Noooo! Don't go vegetarian, for God's sake! What will I serve you on Monopoly and Meatball night?
 
There was nothing dull about dreamy Jason. That's the thing: why did they have to get married at all? If your options are limited don't get married! Don't just marry the first person available (which is I'm sure entirely what he did). It's not the old days anymore, you don't HAVE to get married. THAT'S WHAT'S SAD ABOUT IT.
Jason wasn't sad. I would've married Jason. But we would NOT have had a wedding and he would NOT have worn that suit. On the other hand, if I had married him I probably wouldn't have been able to go to london and walk past dreamyneil's house and when I write my book it might be a bit hard explaining to him why I live alone on neil's street now so probably for the best that I didn't.
I just wish I could see a picture of him NOW. He's like 40 now. It makes me sad to think he might have aged like Skylarker (no offense Skylarker! ): bald and beer bellied. I'm gonna message that girl and tell her to update her profile with a picture of her and Jason. She'll think I'm a weirdo but I couldn't care less what she or any other white trash thinks, as it turns out.
Rifke, did you date this guy? Feel like I'm missing a piece of the story, somehow. Maybe it's just me not understanding.
 
Rifke, did you date this guy? Feel like I'm missing a piece of the story, somehow. Maybe it's just me not understanding.
no, we didnt (some lady did try to set us up and i was SO offended by the way she put it--"you need a friend and he needs a friend" (and everyone should know by now how i get when people have misapprehensions about what i am or need)--that i immediately put the kibosh on that, and afterwards was like "shit. shit shit shit"). it sounds like there's more to it by the way im going on about it, but there isnt, i just suddenly feel the need to for some reason. in actuality i only knew him for like three months and only barely. it was after i had blown through my inheritance money and had to go live with my grandma (who paid my debt for me) in this small town, and after those three months she, on a whim, decided to move to another small town and i, having no money, went with her, and was subsequently very lachrymose over leaving this boy that i loved madly at first sight and spent the next couple of months in my new town moping around listening to cure songs.:lbf: then i got over it. except for now, for some reason. about a week back, apropos of nothing, i had a dream about him and that's when i decided to look him up, and now all of a sudden im experiencing a surfeit of emotion about him ( and as proof of my frighteningly arrested development im convinced that i still love him madly and that, like a sullen teenager, my grandmother ruined my life by moving (she moved back a couple of years later so WHAT WAS THE POINT OF THAT, i ask?!?!?!)). although i should say that, upon examination, i dont think any of this would turn out to be about him at all. i think it's because remembering him made me remember how it felt to be me back then, and it made me realize how much ive lost, how much feeling, how much wistfulness and romance-- for lack of a better word--ive lost just by getting old. he has become my connection to me back then and i feel somehow like i want to meet him again just to validate that connection, just because i want him to be the designated prism through which i see myself again, and then i remember that he would be old himself and it would be no good, the poetry would be gone, and that makes me unbearably sad, like i dont know if i can weather this aging thing kind of sad. i mean it just f***ing gets worse and worse and worse. but that's what this is about, really: like everything else, it's about me, it's about finding new ways to be constantly horrified about growing old.

but i also am starting to wonder if my mood (lachrymose) has anything to do with the time of year. i remember it was around a couple of years ago at this time i was so upset about klaus nomi that i cried for about three weeks straight: on the bus, at work, when people asked me how i was, when i saw a leaf that struck me as being too green. i mean, of course what happened to klaus was heartbreakingly sad, but the way i feel now is sort of the same way i felt then, so it does make me wonder. i AM very susceptible to feelings in the air and nuances and changes in weather and that kind of thing.
 
I've actually never had them. At least I don't think I have. I once went for an awful works Christmas dinner in a Greek restaurant, so I guess it's quite possible, but I don't remember them. I used to think I might like to try them, but lately something has inexplicably put me off the idea. Curious.

Noooo! Don't go vegetarian, for God's sake! What will I serve you on Monopoly and Meatball night?
haha i know you 've never had them, pep, we already had that discussion! i just wanted to sneak them back into the conversation :lbf:

oh shit, you're right, pep. it's not monopoly and meatball night without meatballs! guess i wont be a veggie after all!

by the way, what the heck's an "awful works christmas dinner"?? it doesnt sound very good whatever it is!
 
no, we didnt (some lady did try to set us up and i was SO offended by the way she put it--"you need a friend and he needs a friend" (and everyone should know by now how i get when people have misapprehensions about what i am or need)--that i immediately put the kibosh on that, and afterwards was like "shit. shit shit shit"). it sounds like there's more to it by the way im going on about it, but there isnt, i just suddenly feel the need to for some reason. in actuality i only knew him for like three months and only barely. it was after i had blown through my inheritance money and had to go live with my grandma (who paid my debt for me) in this small town, and after those three months she, on a whim, decided to move to another small town and i, having no money, went with her, and was subsequently very lachrymose over leaving this boy that i loved madly at first sight and spent the next couple of months in my new town moping around listening to cure songs.:lbf: then i got over it. except for now, for some reason. about a week back, apropos of nothing, i had a dream about him and that's when i decided to look him up, and now all of a sudden im experiencing a surfeit of emotion about him ( and as proof of my frighteningly arrested development im convinced that i still love him madly and that, like a sullen teenager, my grandmother ruined my life by moving (she moved back a couple of years later so WHAT WAS THE POINT OF THAT, i ask?!?!?!)). although i should say that, upon examination, i dont think any of this would turn out to be about him at all. i think it's because remembering him made me remember how it felt to be me back then, and it made me realize how much ive lost, how much feeling, how much wistfulness and romance-- for lack of a better word--ive lost just by getting old. he has become my connection to me back then and i feel somehow like i want to meet him again just to validate that connection, just because i want him to be the designated prism through which i see myself again, and then i remember that he would be old himself and it would be no good, the poetry would be gone, and that makes me unbearably sad, like i dont know if i can weather this aging thing kind of sad. i mean it just f***ing gets worse and worse and worse. but that's what this is about, really: like everything else, it's about me, it's about finding new ways to be constantly horrified about growing old.

but i also am starting to wonder if my mood (lachrymose) has anything to do with the time of year. i remember it was around a couple of years ago at this time i was so upset about klaus nomi that i cried for about three weeks straight: on the bus, at work, when people asked me how i was, when i saw a leaf that struck me as being too green. i mean, of course what happened to klaus was heartbreakingly sad, but the way i feel now is sort of the same way i felt then, so it does make me wonder. i AM very susceptible to feelings in the air and nuances and changes in weather and that kind of thing.
Very perceptive. I can totally relate to all of that. In fact, I went through a similar thing about a year ago. I became obsessed with the time when I first left home, in the early 80s, and how I yearned to go back and do it all better (the fact that I was totally miserable was conveniently airbrushed out of the yearning). I spent hours on Google maps, looking up the addresses of all the grim bedsits I stayed in, and trying to find the people I knew back then on Facebook. I even hammered out a plot for a novel based on someone old who meets and befriends their younger self. I am not exaggerating when I say it consumed me. What I learned from this was instructive.

The main thing was the obvious one: everything changes. The snapshot you carry in your head from an earlier time is useless, because it's just a moment that no longer exists. The pictures I saw on Google maps shocked and saddened me. There were fast new roads built with whole streets knocked down to accommodate them; the music shop where I worked was standing empty, and the town I lived in had been paved over and pedestrianised (and not in a good way - it looked like it was dying on its feet).

I tried to find the owner of the music shop I worked in - he and his wife were very good to me and I even stayed with them for a while. Then I found he had died of lung cancer, just weeks earlier. I looked up another couple who had taken me in, for whom I had such affection - their whole family was so funny and creative and they had included me in everything, at a really shitty time in my life. Surely they would still be there? Maybe I could visit them! Surely they would be delighted to see me! I found their house online but it looked different. When I finally tracked them down I found they had moved to the Isle of Wight fifteen years ago. We exchanged a couple of newsy emails, but their life had moved on in ways I hadn't anticipated.

I felt really stupid for expecting everything to be the same, but it was a useful way to put the yearning to bed. Who knows what set it off? My eldest son was a similar age I was when I started out on my own, calamity-strewn adult life, which I think was a factor. But like you say, when you're sensitive, it doesn't take much. I think this Covid business has ushered in such a weird time, because it feels historic - it's almost like we're looking back on it, even while we're in it. It feels portentous - and at times like that, we tend to look back and take stock. Perhaps that's why you're feeling so lachrymose at present.
 
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haha i know you 've never had them, pep, we already had that discussion! i just wanted to sneak them back into the conversation :lbf:

oh shit, you're right, pep. it's not monopoly and meatball night without meatballs! guess i wont be a veggie after all!

by the way, what the heck's an "awful works christmas dinner"?? it doesnt sound very good whatever it is!
Glad to hear it!
You know, where you have to go out for dinner with your work colleagues* and be sociable because it's Christmas? Which, I admit, can be fun if you like your colleagues. But seeing as my boss (in a London bookshop) was embezzling money from the till and trying to pin the blame on me and a colleague for 'being careless', it wasn't my favourite way to pass a couple of hours. We only went Greek because she was obsessed with the island of Skiathos and had some silent, hairy Greek bloke on the go.

*Variations on this theme may include: an all-expenses-paid piss-up in a swanky hotel; a low-rent piss-up in a sweaty tapas bar; a few bottles of warm Tesco Chablis and a plate of sausage rolls in the Accounts department. (Actually, thinking about it, I've been to all of those in the course of my working life.)
 
Writing with you in mind
I stick to my guns
My pen and paper
My tablet
My phone
I've got good shoes to walk in
Slick dark ink in my pen
Pristine white paper
The only thing left missing is a date and time
 
I click into chaturbate
Wearing my new shoes
To watch and pay
My coloring book is tossed aside for another day
It is almost time for a snooze
But it will have to wait

My new shoes are orange and red
I cannot believe what that person in the chat just said
Now my tokens are almost gone
It is dawn
 
Very perceptive. I can totally relate to all of that. In fact, I went through a similar thing about a year ago. I became obsessed with the time when I first left home, in the early 80s, and how I yearned to go back and do it all better (the fact that I was totally miserable was conveniently airbrushed out of the yearning). I spent hours on Google maps, looking up the addresses of all the grim bedsits I stayed in, and trying to find the people I knew back then on Facebook. I even hammered out a plot for a novel based on someone old who meets and befriends their younger self. I am not exaggerating when I say it consumed me. What I learned from this was instructive.

The main thing was the obvious one: everything changes. The snapshot you carry in your head from an earlier time is useless, because it's just a moment that no longer exists. The pictures I saw on Google maps shocked and saddened me. There were fast new roads built with whole streets knocked down to accommodate them; the music shop where I worked was standing empty, and the town I lived in had been paved over and pedestrianised (and not in a good way - it looked like it was dying on its feet).

I tried to find the owner of the music shop I worked in - he and his wife were very good to me and I even stayed with them for a while. Then I found he had died of lung cancer, just weeks earlier. I looked up another couple who had taken me in, for whom I had such affection - their whole family was so funny and creative and they had included me in everything, at a really shitty time in my life. Surely they would still be there? Maybe I could visit them! Surely they would be delighted to see me! I found their house online but it looked different. When I finally tracked them down I found they had moved to the Isle of Wight fifteen years ago. We exchanged a couple of newsy emails, but their life had moved on in ways I hadn't anticipated.

I felt really stupid for expecting everything to be the same, but it was a useful way to put the yearning to bed. Who knows what set it off? My eldest son was a similar age I was when I started out on my own, calamity-strewn adult life, which I think was a factor. But like you say, when you're sensitive, it doesn't take much. I think this Covid business has ushered in such a weird time, because it feels historic - it's almost like we're looking back on it, even while we're in it. It feels portentous - and at times like that, we tend to look back and take stock. Perhaps that's why you're feeling so lachrymose at present.
everything hasnt changed though! i havent changed!! i mean, i have in the sense i think that i feel less alive, less filled up with emotion all the time (which is why im sort of enjoying this little lachrymose spell i've been having. it feels good to have emotion). but other than that im pretty much the same as i was at 20 (with the one difference that i have developed the morrissey attitude to life, where you expect the worst ahead of time and when it happens are smugly satisfied that you have been confirmed in your hard-won wisdom, an ingenius little way of responding to life if you ask me). so i dont know why things have to change. im not into that "life as a journey" bullshit. it's so condescending. you'd have to have very limited knowledge and not be objective at all to pretend that life is actually a journey. forgive me but there just ARENT that many mysteries. if you're objective even in the slightest than you can already see the outcomes of everything in advance and so have no need to actually live any of it. therefore i cant sing the praises of change. change is for people who cant see past the end of their noses.

but i was so fond of myself as a young person, i cant even tell you. i was exactly my type of girl, which is to say, nobody elses type of girl. i remember a few years ago when my sisters cat died (was it in august i wonder?) i experienced a similar sadness as im experiencing now, not because of the cat (although there is something particularly sad about cats dying, im not sure what it is) but because it brought up with great immediacy memories of myself when i was younger, when it was a kitten and it would sit and knead on my $300 gianfranco ferre sweater (which at the time i was really proud of because it was the most expensive item i had bought with my own money and the knit was so fine and silky and i felt it was VERY cosmopolitan) while i made scrapbooks. it was the memory of me that i was mourning! i dont think the snapshots in your head are useless at all. as viktor frankl said "having been is a kind of being and perhaps the surest kind". it's just so sad that you cant become more of yourself over time, a concentration of yourself, full of all the things you've incorporated into your being through love of those things, but instead have to watch yourself erode and everything you built up inside of you lose it's value. it's just such a bad f***ing set up. if i could sell my soul to the devil to stay young forever i would (do you hear that devil?!?! im making you an offer!!)

i dont think this covid stuff feels historic, i think it feels like tedious bullshit. and i dont think ill ever put my nostalgic yearnings to rest. i know what you mean though, i do the same thing. sometimes i walk down streets here where i used to walk when i was a teenager and absorb the feeling, but it makes me feel like one of those ghosts in harry potter who cant actually eat food but if they pass through it they can get a sense for what it must taste like. anyway, that's interesting that you did that, pep. i think it's human nature especially if you're a writer, to want to see how things turned out, what course they took in life. i kind of feel the need to see how jason turned out. i think im going to incorporate him in my memoir, which is not going to be just about being too sophisticated for my life, but also it's going to touch on themes of nostalgia, memory, identity, aging, living a meaningless/meaningful life, etc. and it's going to take place over the course of three weeks in august during covid-19 (that is, now), and it's going to begin with my dream which then sets off all these ruminations and meditations and anecdotes on these various themes (it's still going to be massively funny, i promise). i wonder if jason will meet me if i tell him that he's a character in my book and for that i need to see how he's turned out in life? i mean, it would be research, which is entirely within my purview as a writer, is it not? of course i have to have a huge chunk of my book written before i do that so that ill have the muse behind me and it wont just seem like a desperate ploy to meet and ogle him (which it isnt).
 
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Glad to hear it!
You know, where you have to go out for dinner with your work colleagues* and be sociable because it's Christmas? Which, I admit, can be fun if you like your colleagues. But seeing as my boss (in a London bookshop) was embezzling money from the till and trying to pin the blame on me and a colleague for 'being careless', it wasn't my favourite way to pass a couple of hours. We only went Greek because she was obsessed with the island of Skiathos and had some silent, hairy Greek bloke on the go.

*Variations on this theme may include: an all-expenses-paid piss-up in a swanky hotel; a low-rent piss-up in a sweaty tapas bar; a few bottles of warm Tesco Chablis and a plate of sausage rolls in the Accounts department. (Actually, thinking about it, I've been to all of those in the course of my working life.)
oh haha, i see. i would never feel like i have to go out for dinner with my work colleagues and be sociable. the way i see it, if i want to see people from work (and i dont), ill go to work.

"some silent, hairy greek bloke on the go" :lbf:
 
I click into chaturbate
Wearing my new shoes
To watch and pay
My coloring book is tossed aside for another day
It is almost time for a snooze
But it will have to wait

My new shoes are orange and red
I cannot believe what that person in the chat just said
Now my tokens are almost gone
It is dawn
Chaturbate will have to wait
I've got to save my pennies for the day
I print my memoir
Hooray
I told 1ui5
I'll tip him again come xmas
He was cool with that
He's my muse for life
 
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