i recently designated wednesday as “jumpsuit wednesday.” which means i have to wear a jumpsuit every wednesday. it’s because i found this old silky jumpsuit in my dresser, and i needed something to make me excited about my week, so i was like, JUMPSUIT WEDNESDAY! EXACTLY! so i wore it, but then decided it looked terrible, and was WAY too tight in the thigh region, and wore a jacket all day to hide it.
but i was still pretty delighted by the idea of jumpsuit wednesday, so i ordered some coveralls on ebay. and one of them came today! (actually two of them came today, because i got two-f0r-one.)
so…here is me, officially launching jumpsuit wednesday. so far i’m the only participant. people at the grocery store said i looked like i was in jail. and someone else thought i was on a road crew.
crush #2 was in town this past weekend. we were having all this fun on saturday afternoon, and i accidentally blurted out that i was in love with him, and then quickly covered his mouth so he wouldn’t say anything back. then i asked him if he’d ever seen a monsoon, because that’s what all my emotions were like. he said, do you mean a monsoon season? and i said, no, i mean, a monsoon, and he was like, do you actually know what a monsoon is? (wikipedia: “monsoon is traditionally defined as a seasonal reversing wind accompanied by corresponding changes in precipitation, but is now used to describe seasonal changes in atmospheric circulation and precipitation associated with the asymmetric heating of land and sea”).
so apparently, no, i do not know what a monsoon is.
at any rate, it all felt awesome in the moment, such a relief to the heart region. but then on sunday i got scared and had a miniature weteyed breakdown in his truck. because i just felt so vulnerable. and scared. and like, maybe i should have played my cards closer to my vest. and been cooler. and waited till he said something first. but he was super sweet and kind and said he was going to overwhelm me with an avalanche of love (eventually).
weather metaphors, getting the job sort of done, since this past weekend
i’ve been having this urge all week to tell crush #2 that i’m in love with him, i don’t understand the compulsion, except my heart sometimes just feels FULL, so full, but we just talked and it was kind of awkward and i think i complimented him too many times and now i’m like, nope, i am definitely NOT telling him i’m in love with him. imma wait. and wait. and wait. until i’m totally sure. until i can’t bear it anymore.
here is my one and only experience with saying love words to a man (dave, pictured above):
JANUARY, 2001 (<-- TEN g.d. years ago)
ME: i think i might be sort of in love with you
DAVE: i have great feelings of respect for you
END SCENE
ouch. respect. amazing. even reading it makes my stomach hurt. both players, total idiots. me especially, because i was definitely NOT in love with that guy. i mean i thought i was, but mostly i was blinded by one three-hour late-night kissing session.
DUMB.
also i was thinking about how much i love punk rock, garage rock, loud rock, and why, and maybe this is apparent to everyone, and maybe it’s why EVERYONE loves rock & roll, but if it’s loud enough and messy enough, i’m totally taken out of my overthinking head and anxious heart and wet insides, and just in it.
which made me wonder: was rock actually invented for neurotics.
“Take French lessons, go swimming a lot, buy Langston Hughes books, get high, hire a girl once a week to take care of your clothes (sew, clean, organize closets), find a psychiatrist, a Spanish babysitter, take dancing, find shoemaker, write Hazel Scott, find yellow pills, buy books a friend told me about, stop abusing Andrew.”
–nina simone, from a list made to herself, written on air france letterhead, 1965
(courtesy of i have two things and the july/august issue of the believer)
