today my corporate butt hole manager walked up to me and asked if my nose ring was out. i asked her if she could tell. she got up close to my face, very close, and said you need to take it out. i said i can’t because it will close up. she said she has to be fair. she said it’s the nose ring or the job. i said i take the nose ring. she said clock out. i said good bye.
somehow, i get the feeling i have wanted my nose pierced since i was 15 for reasons bigger than i realized at that age. i just thought it looked so cool, but now, now it’s something else entirely, and i’m going to apply for jobs with my hoop. listen, i can do better. i moved from monmouth to champaign to do better. i have always wanted different things for my life, and i honestly believe in every bit of me that this is starting with fighting for a nose piercing.
time to go shower and apply for a new job.
oh, my pulse is still so high. it’s going to be a good weekend. i can see fireworks now. this is how it was supposed to be. i can’t wake up like i did this morning over and over. i am allowed to be picky. i am allowed to be picky.
today i finished Love in the Time of Cholera by Marquez, and i have no idea how i feel about it. it was a love story, and i’ve read my fair share of those, and all i think i’ve learned is that you can’t contain love, and i don’t think there are themes to be found in it. you can stick on words like faith and transcend and forever, but all i get out of love stories is just to love, to love, in the infinitive, and be bold, be yourself. to be, to be.
tonight i sat on a very large campus in a not so large spot, rock climbed for some tranquility, sat near a creek, and watched bull frogs splash and sing, bubbling out their throats for evening air. the smells of campus on my walk back to my car made me nostalgic in a curious way, made me curious in a nostalgic way. it was a perfectly warm night that begged for tank tops and sitting on the trunk of my car talking to school friends i can’t wait to see again.
and tomorrow i work all. fucking. day. new rule: never working at a big, corporate-we-keep-track-of-how-much-jewelry-you-wear-chain restaurant ever, ever again. times will never be that hard.
this is what happens when you keep following links. the rest of the website, the rest of the links outside the love letters branch, is equally poignant and normal, and i wanted you to be as captivated as i am.
i’ve been reading this website for hours. it’s a girl’s project. i only loosely read the description of it, anxious to actually read the letters. some of them are beautiful, poignant. sometimes, though, these letters are just so normal.
i will always remember this summer by a giant purple polo, the smell of brewing espresso shots, cans of berry flavored mt. dew, the sounds of machine gun fire and air raids in call of duty, the way trent can’t seem to get every spot when he shaves, beads from quarter machines, texts sent by girls from school that make me beam, and fighting back to sleep to keep living.
i think that in a past life i was in a metal band. now i am left with a love for sun dresses and air guitar.
my job at monical’s in unbelievably horrible. when i wake up, it feels like something large sitting on my chest, telling me to find a way out of it for the day. i’m getting screwed over on serving, and my manager’s catty. she made me take the clear, plastic retainer out of my nose today, like it doesn’t just look like a mole anyway. i’m giving it my weekend shifts. if there’s no improvement, i’m quitting. all there is to it. i can make minimum wage anywhere, and it doesn’t have to involve taking out my nose ring and wearing a purple polo. i can do better.
this whole job thing, i don’t know. my dad likes to shake his head at my pickiness, tell me this is just life. that doesn’t take the edge off anything. all it does is make me wonder who we think we’re kidding.
my little brother just put a new car stereo in my ‘93 corsica. i think i am going to go take my next few hours and use them to the fullest, use them like i work the rest of the day, use them like i am an 18 year old girl with the whole world at the end of my toes and the tips of fingers and the strands of my hair and just go be.
monical’s might suck, but it makes me appreciate everything else to the fullest. oh, life.
1. i can not drink enough water these days. it’s really kind of intimidating how thirsty i get.
2. this is by far the summer i have seen the most shooting stars. there is no stopping my reading into this.
3. video games have become a substantial part of my life.
4. not eating enough has never once been a problem, but now that i’m running everyday i forget that it’s possible i’m rocking negative calories, and that’s why i have the raging headaches. such an odd switch.
5. i fucking hate visors. why not just go with the real hat instead of the one that bunches your hair and falls down your face? i hate whoever invented visors. they blow. and i hate whoever decided thick purple polos and black dress pants are legitimate KITCHEN attire. those are obviously the rich people who never step into the stores they own because they’re too hot or something. they just want us to look nice. and by nice i mean retarded. like little owned monkeys or something. with purple. and raging visors. wtf. this girl hates uniforms, sorry for the angst internets.
6. the sound of incessant phone ringing makes me understand how people jump off roofs onto garden posts or drink themselves to sleep every night. also, makes me appreciate ringtones that are songs.
7. shitty hip hop does make summers better.
8. iced coffee is a problem for me because i can drink infinite glasses of it due to it’s refreshing icey quality and bitter coffee taste i love. bye bye whatever little bit of sleeping i may have been doing.
9. today, while i was running, i came within a few feet of a real life deer and almost peed my pants because i was so scared of it attacking me. it was nuts.
let’s try to be optimstic about this job. you’re entirely too good at making up excuses to get yourself out of the hard things.
thank you for playing I-N-D-E-P-E-N-D-E-N-T while i rush from monical’s to espresso, throw off the purple polo and heavy black plants for a scrubby t-shirt and bright green converse in ten minutes flat.
“Hey, pause that game for a second, and I’ll teach you about the urgency of life.”—my dad to my little brother, who has been playing call of duty 3 for about the past 5 hours. his response was ‘dude, i’m busy playing call of duty’.
right now i want to write about my relationship with trent, my best friend of five years turned boyfriend of five months. sometimes, when i’m driving home late at night, i think about the night he told me he had feelings for me. i was sitting in my cold basement, and i couldn’t believe it. i pinched myself, like this was just a movie, an ashton kutcher hiding in the closet prank. the things i had been thinking in an left field kind of way about what would happen if i just touched his arm while driving, if i put my arm around him in the bookstore, the strength of our friendship, and the loyalty WERE something, and it wasn’t just some mental escape i had built. he felt the same way. he feels the same way. this is all at once the best and most unreal feeling. i could not in any way imagine who i would be if i had not met him my freshman year of if he had not told me he loved me this semester. and now, how i crack up everytime i hear chris brown songs or the way espresso smells or menthol cigarettes or scotch, especially scotch. it’s just pungnant and distinct, and i can not imagine a time when the smell or taste of scotch does not make me think of putting my face close to trent’s.
it’s literally dating my best friend. i can tell him anything, truly. he was always there for me before, and now it’s even better. i’m comfortable around him without any make-up, playing call of duty, shredding air guitar, or crying because my mom’s difficult, or just reading a book, or working through an essay, or doing WHATEVER, and it’s just really, really cool and fun and fulfilling.
i’m not writing this in a nicholas sparks way. i’m not trying to show it off, to hold it up, look at us, look at this, how perfect. i just want to chronicle this feeling, this part of my life. this is worth celebrating, worth saying outloud. there is no way to tell what the future holds, and i’ve accepted that in full. i just want to always be able to remember this, to have a place i can go to know that summer i was almost 19 and moved back home that i had a best friend boyfriend who smelled like his soap, who is the only smoker i know that doesn’t smell like smoke, whose mouth almost always tastes like scotch or doritos, whose brain and thoughts and genius are very important to me, who inspires me to read and write and try harder all the time.
sometimes life is going to be hard and immovable, and if i can just hold onto this, remember that sometimes the world throws love at us, and how that is and feels, i’ll keep my chin up. that’s why i make sure to get things like this out into the world.
today was a very good day.
and i need to find a way to get my ass out of bed and running every single morning, even if i do have to work, because quite frankly, i can be a little bit better.
i have another job—a server at monical’s pizza. i get to wear black pants, a purple polo, and a plastic retainer in my nose piercing. the things we are made to do to all look the same, to make enough money to live, disappoint me sometimes. it’s not that these things are a big deal. it’s that they are a mandatory not big deal.
like, i was interviewed by two john’s in my great job search oh eight. one of them was a middle aged man who wore button-up shirts and slacks. the other was a younger guy with visible tattoos and double guages in both of his ears. guess which one made me so uncomfortable during the interview with his advances that i left in tears? professional john was the jerk john, and the guy who looks like he could throw down a homocide at any second is probably one of the nicest mangers imaginable. he’s soft-spoken and patient. he makes funny jokes and is open about how the store is run, even things like texting and free drinks. i feel damn lucky to have been hired at espresso, with so many of my friends having applied there at some point and never hearing anything back. it’s going to be the fun job that i love, while monical’s is just a money maker. it’s a waitress job, ya know? smiling nicely, writing some family pleasers, and looking the same as everyone else.
other than jobs, it’s summer, and i couldn’t ask for anything more. my dad and i get along. my mom and i are rebuilding. george and i went 50/50 on our first video game together: call of duty 3. my nights are spent with friends, trent, or a combination of. it’s finally hot, really hot, and this leads to entire days driving around in swimsuits, swimming all night, and then going out for midnight milkshakes. it’s all a transition—wanting to hang onto those young summers of barely working and staying out all nights, but needing to find jobs, to move out of the house, saving up, figuring it out.