I flew off the handle at Emily and Josh last night and the words that I heard come from my mouth explaining my irrationality were not words that I expected, or even believed in. They just came out, reflections of my bitterness or loneliness or craziness, who knows? They were something, but certainly nothing I'm proud of. I cried to Emily, telling her I thought I was going crazy. But I know that's not the case. It's just a strange reaction to a difficult situation... the only problem is that I don't know why it's difficult. Why should my sister and my good friend's extremely happy relationship make me feel so alienated? As Cap said, "Don't hate." And that's exactly what I'm doing and it's exactly what, logically, I know I should avoid. I don't know how to deal with it. Seeing the two of them together should conjure up happy images, not make me want to cry. I think I need to just realize that what they seek in a relationship and what I seek in a relationship are different things.
Once again, a lesson I learned a long time ago is rearing its head today. Everyone has their own context. Everyone is looking at the world through their own little glasses, their own translation of the bigger picture. It has to happen that way. The huge, fundamental clouds of construct just float above us until we process them. It's not anyone's fault. The way they see the world, I mean. It's just... the way they see it. We can choose to blame them or we can choose to blame ourselves. How about we just look carefully at our own translation and do our best to be happy with it? I don't know, it's cheesy and cliche but really, it's true.
I'm short on money, as was previously mentioned in the blog. Strangely enough, random money is coming in to me for various web design things... bizarre... really bizarre... but good. I have to find a way to make about a hundred bucks this week. I think I can do it. Anybody got any weeds to pull or houses to clean or anything? Ooh, houses to clean... brilliant... I bet I could clean three houses this week. Sixty bucks a pop. This is genius.
I chose very carefully to stay home tonight. Emily and Josh and some others were watching a movie at someone's house and I was very cordially invited. I just decided that some nights it's better to stay home, help Mom and Dad do dishes, take shower #2 of the day, organize my stacks of shit, write a little, think a little, make some email excitement, research a much needed trip to Los Angeles, and make my bed so that when I slid into my covers this fine evening, toes cold and head still damp, my legs were immediately enveloped in tightly drawn sheets beneath layers and layers of cozy comforters and blankets. That's what makes it all alright. Everything else melts away, at some point, somewhere in between the down blanket and my cotton jammies. Just when you think it's all in the shitter, there's a down blanket waiting for you somewhere. That's a metaphor, you know.
