Krista says I walk like a man. You know, like the song. Well, a lot of people tell me that. A soccer coach once told me I ran like an elephant. That was cute.
When Shane wore the fancy Quincinera dress with her converse sneakers, I was like “Wow, that’s me.” I mean, literally. Ryan used to make fun of me for wearing my converse sneakers when he’d drag me to his church. I tried for years to make Puma/Converse/Adidas + Dress stylish before giving in and getting some fucking heels.
On Friday, Krista and I yelled, then talked, then yelled, then talked. I was going through old e-mails and thought, when did this happen? “Is that all life is, replacing people?” David asked his Dead Dad on Six Feet Under. He said “Yes, some of us faster than others.”
In these few weeks leading up to my move to Brooklyn Matty has, essentially, moved in. I feel guilty, I have to do something, I’m moving and leaving him. What will he do and eat. I let him come over pretty much every day to get out of his cave. He’s going crazy in there. So I let him come here where he smokes cigarettes out the window, watches bad movies on television, and I write on my computer and talk on the phone. Cook, eat, wash dishes, sleep.
We’re like an old married couple except one of us is a manic bipolar schizophrenic in a deep period of mourning and loss. We don’t have any sexual contact, we can be silent together, and he wakes me up in the morning by grabbing all of my toes, and he wakes me up in the morning by screaming “fix me a sandwich!”
“Um, so, you told me about Marie’s crazy friend from across the street, but you failed to mention that he is an ICELANDIC GOD.”
-Krista’s friend, Erin, who was our houseguest for some time
Recent concepts (proposed by Matty) for what he will do when I move to Brooklyn:
1. get a dog
(“can the dog cook, matty?” -krista)
2. hang himself
3. play in traffic
4. move to bermuda
I had a date last week. Cameron and I smoked weed that made me crazy and when I got there I was like, “why am I here?” So I made up a bunch of stories about myself, started a fight about the institution of marriage, and confirmed that he hated everything I love including Grey Gardens, Everything is Illuminated, A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius, e-mail, computers in general computers in general and literature written after 1900.
Moving, moving, moving, moving.
Moving moving moving.