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[quick pro-quo... i LOVE this song. it's 1990 remix/re-release was responsible for the word & eventually the name "brainwavy". if you thought the song was by The Boo Radleys, well, God Bless Mike Myers and i suppose i can forgive you. if you thought it was by Sixpence None the Richer - there's not a lot i can say... just don't ever admit as much to me, ok?]

"If you never take it seriously then you never get hurt. If you never get hurt then you always have fun, and if you ever get lonely you can just go to the record store and visit your friends." - Almost Famous

when i stick to that little slice of wisdom, my world is a happier place. Only sometimes... I forget. I let myself get caught up and start to take it all a little too seriously... and that's always a recipe for trouble. Now, you would think that after I'd gone through it the first time, I'd have learned my lesson - but not me. Lessons have to beaten into me thankyoumomanddad, they don't stick otherwise. never take it seriously. I mean, by nature I'm not an overly serious person, so why is it such a hard rule to live by? You'd think this would be a piece of fucking cake - but i suppose there are a few precious things i do happen to take seriously, and my heart is one of them. As much fun as it is to run around and be that no-strings girl who can take or leave just about anything or anyone... I want strings goddamnit. Sometimes I think I NEED strings... something, someone to keep me tethered (lest I end up floating so far from reality that I never get back down).

where is this coming from? oh... a myriad of places. For one, I talked to ::gasp:: Charles yesterday - who, if you can believe it is alive and well and wooing the ladies in JAX. Now, I adore this boy to pieces, he's really one of the good ones - smart, charming, successful, generous, hot as all hell. Plus he's been such a rock for me... always an open ear for my rants, never squeamish about random bursts of hysterical crying, and the most reliable glimpse into the male mind a girl could ask for. Having said this... talking to Charles can be a bit like kicking yourself in the head. He IS the catch of all time, and....wait for it... he is determined to avoid any and all commitments in the foreseeable future. He is a girl's worst nightmare. The perfect guy, who no matter how perfect the girl, won't love her. And knowing that he exists, knowing that there are countless others like him - is terrifying. Sure, I hit him all the time with the whole "just wait, and you'll see how things change when the right girl comes along" but that's starting to sound awfully thin to me... I've watched him find "the right girl" - several of them in fact - I watched them fall for each other, and then I watched him push each one away, dust off his shoulders and go find someone new to amuse himself. It's gut wrenching, even with knowing what his hang-ups are, which really should offer me some respite, but doesn't manage to at all. It's just variations on the things you're likely to find in any man's samsonite (well, at least the ones who aren't packing light)... and I watch my girls dive into love affairs with these steam-trunk laden men, and wander out of them, battered by the surf, dazed and muttering, why can't he just be with me? doesn't he love me? what's wrong with me? And I don't know how many times I can whisper, "it's not you baby doll, it's not you , it's not you, it's him" before I begin to doubt that there will ever be a string strong enough to keep me tethered at all... and so what was my point? Oh yes, I was feeling a lot better about my chances at finding a solid relationship before I talked to Charles. lol.

So, now, there's another side to all of this as well... part of how I try to keep my emotions in check - one of the little OCD symptoms I can't shake... my "boxes". I have a collection of lovely, labeled boxes in which i neatly store away everyone i know. Chances are, if you're reading this... you're in a box (unless of course you wandered over through Lawrence via Sarah, or Marci). I re-organize my boxes when it's merited... for instance, after a night of bonding, someone might move from the "acquaintance" box to the "new friend" box... all nice and neat and tidy. It's a brilliant system really, it allows me to keep my temper 90% of the time, allows for certain people to make certain, even rather expected mistakes, adjusts my levels of expectations, all that good stuff. Only it seems as of late, that people aren't staying put. It's like one of those creepy things where the girl goes to bed, and when she wakes up... all her toys have re-arranged themselves. Well, that's how I've been feeling lately - every time I go to look for someone, they're not where I left them. It's like they've taken it upon themselves to play musical boxes or something. Friend / crush / potential boxes? Just whipping people back and forth like some sort of human game of "keep away". it's trouble i tell you... TROUBLE when even *I* can't keep them all straight. This is where we come back to the whole, "don't get serious = don't get hurt" bit, this is where it gets hard. When the lines start to blur, you forget you're not supposed to care, you forget all kinds of things you're not supposed to do... you start thinking things, feeling things you never intended, you stomp on fingers and toes without noticing, you lose sight of where your expectations were supposed to end... oh it's a great big mess, and worse yet, i think it may be encouraged by the music. How else can you explain the phenomenon of driving in your car, singing along to some lovely song on the ipod and then realizing suddenly that you are thinking about -singing about- someone you'd never considered before in association with said song, but who nonetheless, have managed to become inexplicably attached to it in way that you find absolutely confounding. I'm telling you... it's mutiny. Everyone are jumping boxes and the ipod is complicit in the whole thing.
or perhaps you're just not so entirely self-aware as you thought you were
right. or that.