Everybody Loves Me

I made the most of this past weekend. Even after scrubbing myself vigorously in the shower, I’m sure I must still smell faintly of whiskey and cigarettes. If that wasn’t evidence enough of my indulgent ways, the slight whiff of emotional damage lingers in the air. I guess I should explain, for the sake of compositional comprehensiveness, that I am socially paranoid. I’m pretty sure people are pissed off at me most of the time (except for those blessed souls who I’m quite sure don’t care about me one way or another), unless they tell me directly that they are pleased with my actions, and even then I’m not certain they’re not being sarcastic.

So I proceeded to progress, during each of the last few days, from sober and solemn in the morning to exceedingly rambunctious and abrasive as day turns to night and my scowl morphs into a mischievous grin. I couldn’t be more off-putting if I tried, which I know because I often do (try, that is; sometimes it’s fun to be weird).

Yesterday I woke up around 11, stayed in bed until 15 minutes before my shift, then ran out the door intending to grab some snacks near the library where I have to pick up the keys for work. The place was swarming with high school track kids having some kind of huge race. The school store wasn’t open yet and the café was closed as well. I didn’t have time to go back home and make a sandwich or anything so I just went to work intending to order some delivery. For some reason, I temporarily forgot that good food existed and ordered Dominos. Halfway through the pizza I was still hungry, but I had to force the carboard-y slices down my gullet; my stomach was screaming out in anguish. I believe I heard my name cursed in the watery gurgles emanating from my midsection.

Six hours later my shift ended and I went home. I knew I wouldn’t be able to get any work done, so I resigned myself to the night and poured a stiff whiskey and cola. I hung out with a couple of my housemates, we watched a bit of Happy Feet on TV. God damn it, that movie came off as bizarre. I’ve seen plenty of shitty animated films, but for the life of me I couldn’t figure out what the point of this movie was. To its credit, you couldn’t call it formulaic; I had no fucking clue where they were going with this tap-dancing penguin and his Mexican-Robin-Williams pals. I remarked that I’d imagine the film executives would assume the producers to be stoned when they heard the pitch. I hear it made a bajillion dollars though, so good on them I guess.

At some point, I remember trying to have a discussion with somebody that I had been rehearsing in my head all day, about how pleased I was with my life and all my clever and attractive friends, but I must have messed it up because he didn’t shower me with adoration and mutual appreciation.* I spent another hour or two furthering my drinking career, barging into people’s rooms, and playing music at an inappropriate volume. (I made a playlist on a computer not my own entitled “FUCK MUSIC,” which I realized afterward has a pleasing double meaning, and which I am excited to slip into the programme at our next social function.)

A couple nights ago before going to sleep, I opined to one of my housemates that nobody understood my insecurities, and that I just felt like I should be constantly apologizing to everyone around me. I remember saying that I felt like the social equivalent of George W. Bush: it is just my way to always ruin everything.

“I don’t know what to tell you,” she said. “We all really like you.”


*Mutual Appreciation is the title of another movie I watched over the weekend. It’s like the indie-est fucking picture you could imagine, but somehow it manages to totally steal my heart. I recommend it.

Back in Back

I've been back at college for a couple weeks now, and it's been super!

I've been back at school for a couple weeks, and it's been all right. I watched some movies and had a few laughs, but all in all the experience is lacking a certain verve. I'm living with nine other motherfuckers this year, so that might be okay. We'll see how everything stacks up after some more time has passed. Maybe I'll write a post tomorrow. Don't count on it, though; you'll only be setting yourself up for disappointment.

-HFC