Basic Space

Open air.

Going out of town for July 4th. An illicit adventure with an illicit acquaintance to shady parts of a big loud city space. The most basic space I know is the space between us. I'm excited to run away. I may not come back.

I want to get out, friends. I want to flee the city and this life that I am oh-so-unsatisfied with.

My life:

I nanny three days a week. A twelve year old girl who loves the Twilight movies, anything Justin Bieber, and absolutely nothing else. This girl doesn't like to read and she doesn't write or really seem to think all that much. I know, SHOCK!, right? But that is ALL i did as a twelve year old girl. So I'm not entirely sure how to relate to her. And I'm there for her more as a role model than an actual "babysitter." She can pretty much take care of herself, her parents are just worried about her getting into trouble with some kids she's been hanging out with. So I sit around and watch Disney Chanel and get paid $8 an hour to be a "role model" to this kid.

With this money I paid for bartending school. A totally non-legit "school" that (I hope) is going to be a fun time, that is going to (I hope) find me a job, and give me something to do with my life. The guy who runs it is kind of sleazy, but at the same time I feel as though I'll be comfortable with him. Which is cool, because I know very little about mixing drinks and it's nice to feel like I can say "What's grenadine?" and not feel like a major idiot. I signed up yesterday, received flashcards and a packet, and was told to bring my flashcards every time I come in. There's sixtyish drinks I have to memorize, from whiskey and water to sex on the beach to martinis and daiquiris... daunting tasks, right?

That's the most exciting thing I'm doing with my life. I am one boring ass 18 year old. And I kind of love it.

I'm tired of being interesting. I'm tired of falling in love and breaking hearts and having my heart broken. Tired of thinking about how people's brains work, about characters and scripts and relationships. I just want to think about my 4th of July trip, how to make a Screaming Orgasm (shot of vodka, 3/4 shot kahlua, 1/2 shot amaretto, 1/2 shot Bailey's and hazelnuts. A regular Orgasm has sweet cream instead of Bailey's), and what is going to happen to the Fishers. I'm always afraid that I'm a boring person. But the thought of having a boring life is kind of appealing to me now.

Today my loverly lover cut my hair all off. And that's barely an exaggeration.

I've had shorter hair than this a couple times but not for a few years. I love having super short hair, I love love love it. Sometimes.

I'm starting to feel like short hair suited who I used to be much more than who I am now. And I don't honestly know how I feel about that. I want to be that spunky girl with glasses and the shy smile again... but... I think I've been her all along... I just got distracted by wanting to have sex and fall in love and grow up (or maybe avoid growing up). I think now that I feel more or less grown, I can re assess that girl I used to be. Use the spunky shyness but polish it off with the maturity and sex appeal I may or may not have grown into in the past year or two.

You can be a bartender with short hair, right?

I love my house and I love my roommate and I love my city. But right now I have this feeling like nothing's going to work out like I thought it would a month ago. At the end of summer I don't know where I'll be. Here or there?

Not so basic space.

I wish it was just you and me... all the in between's driving me crazy.

Cute outfit yesterday. Forgot shoes I suppose. It happens.

Stayed in bed today. Busy week ahead of me. Work and bartending school Mon-Wednes, shopping and Eclipse with my roomie's buds Thurs, and probably leaving for the weekend Friday. Maybe Saturday. We'll see. Either way I don't have as much time as I'd like... but then I don't think anyone does. Or they have to much. Dissatisfaction, the American Way.

I wonder if anyone will get it if I just need a change of space. I've always wanted to run away and now I'm afraid I won't have the guts.

We'll see.

I'll decide when I get back.

We'll see.