resistance is futile

last night, in those quiet moments post party and pre sleep.

last night, in the dark.

last night in the warmth and safety of.

i've been trying to write this post all day. i don't know why it's so hard to start.

italo calvino wrote a novel that was comprised entirely of the first chapters of different books. if on a winter's night a traveller. i loved it cause the beginning is always the hardest.

while i was writing my thesis i had two things within view of both of the computers i used to work on. one was the quote that inspired my thesis (the beginning). the other was a foxtrot comic strip (explain to me again the difference between writer's block and a total lack of talent? pipe down. i'm sure after this first word it gets easier).

pipe down, you. i'm sure after this first word it gets easier.

shit.

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nope not that word.

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last night after the party, when we were curled up in bed and falling asleep (him) or passing out (me), mikeb gave me a talking. he said it hurts him to see me go after boys who aren't good enough for me. i told him that it's really hard to see someone you love(d?) every day and know that they are not with you, but with someone else. i told him that it seemed like it was better to be with someone who was not quite good enough than to always be alone. i think i cried. that's a lie - i cried. but i was drunk cause i don't do stuff like that.

today he told me that i needed to be with someone who appreciated the fact that i'm smart and independent and sexy. theoretically, grand plan. practically, boys like that don't like me.

hello rock. this is your hard place. i'll just stay here between you until my 24 cats feast on my undiscovered corpse.

why is this so hard for me to write about? it's not like it is something i've never talked about. today it is just.... hard.