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Aug. 28th, 2016

I was exploring Zillow tonight, just seeing what different filters would get me. I have to set some because I don't want to browse through thousands of listings. But to my surprise, I came across this one.

I keep coming back to it. It's over three times the size of our current place. It's exactly the kind of house the original owners of my piano would have had.

I bitched about wallpaper and not having time to take it down, but this, I could live with; it's appropriate for the house.

It's only 35 minutes outside of Philadelphia.

I don't know enough about period housing to be able to tell what's original and what's not, but it's close enough that it looks right.

The thing is, even if we could negotiate the price down, it would still be well out of the budget we set. We set it low so we could save some of what we end up getting for our place.

I'm not going to do anything. I'm going to watch it and see what it does and if it's still on the market when we're ready to sell, then we'll see.
Getting back to reality. The dozen SMS messages I pretended I didn't get. The emails. The phone calls. Not that there's urgent awful things. Just people I don't want to talk to. Things I don't want to talk about.

Even though there were some hard moments this week it was, for the most part, exactly what we needed. We were able to remove ourselves from the shit and remind ourselves what it was to be who we really were. But the problem is that... it doesn't translate back to our real lives. Where we're not hiding away from everything. Where everything is right in our faces. Where no amount of sweetness can take away the bitter.

Dave and I nearly got into a fight. We did manage to avoid it, but we didn't resolve anything. We agreed to disagree on a subject that honestly needs to be figured out. We have to have the painful conversations but neither of us are ready. And we should be. We've been avoiding them for years.

I am in no way, shape, or form asking for you all to tell me how bad that is. I am aware.
Lang can't see this because I haven't said anything to her about it yet.

What I've been thinking about is this vow renewal thing and how she really likes this idea of starting over. One of the things I did wrong (haha I know) right from the start was my objection to wearing a ring.

I did get her an engagement ring. It's just a black diamond solitaire, nothing flashy. It was all I could afford at the time. Her reason for not wearing it is her business and not mine to share, though she's told me in the past that now it doesn't fit.

Over the last almost 9 months, my beliefs have been challenged and my ideas have changed. Now I'm feeling like this is something want to do. I want the visual that says "hey, there's another half of me walking around on this planet". I don't think there's a truly good reason to not wear a ring in my case.

I've been looking at things online while she's in the studio today.
I'm just gonna climb into the ring here for a moment and throw down. Dont mind me like none of ya fucking do anyway, because I'm the fucking villain here...

You won't catch me saying that I hate my fucking life cause right now, I really, really don't. There's moments I'm not a huge fan of, but Christ, who's happy all the goddamn time? Nunya.

For the most part, I'm good. I got a job, a man, my baby who isn't hardly a baby anymore, I get to travel, and I even got fans. And every once in awhile, I make the mistake of logging on here and I get a little fucking pissed. Because the other third of the major equation in my life is just running around, willy nilly, doing whatever the fuck he wants without any sense of obligation or responsibility. And it shouldn't fucking matter but it does. It grinds me right down to the motherfuckin bone. And yeah, I get it, life isn't fucking fair. I know this, he knows this. But it's bullshit. And I don't see a damn thing changing.

So I'm just saying. I see you, baby. Momma sees everything. And I'm making notes.
I haven't been sleeping well lately. I tried to tell myself that it's the heat or the humidity. I've tried to tell myself that it's traffic or the buzzing of insects, the fireworks, or any of the other hundreds of sounds that I've slept through before, but the thing about lying to yourself is that you always know, somewhere deep down, that it's a lie.

Jude stayed at Maddie's last night and Alyssa, the girl from the sorority, came over. We were just going to order thai and watch movies. And then we fell asleep on the couch.

I slept for six hours on that narrow couch with another person and it should have been terrible by all rights but it's the best sleep I've had in a long time. So I think I can say with confidence that I found the reason I'm not sleeping well.

I never did like sleeping alone.
Just when you think you've got both kids in bed and it's safe to curl up with your husband in front of a Star Trek movie...

Goddamnit

I invited this guy I'd been hanging out with over to my place. Neither of us wanted to call what we had anything serious, so it was working out.

Until part of his during the act dirty talk was, "a woman couldn't fuck you like this." And then he kept asking for comparison. "Has any woman been able to..."

And the evening ended with, "it sucks you're bi. The gay community could really use someone like you." Because apparently they're trying to market themselves to the public and "a bro who sells beer would be great for [their] image."

#BiGuyProblems
This summer has been really busy. We acquired a new dermatology clinic and I've been up to my eyeballs in skin shaves, punches, and excisions. Nothing really exciting, just annoying, hairy little tidbits. And then i have to remind myself that I'm providing a valuable service to patients, because when you only get bits of people, it's easy to dehumanize them. It's easy, after awhile, for everything i do think become just another aspect of the job.

I did manage to coax some cucumber vines to hold on to life on the little balcony of my place. I'm sure it doesn't help that I only wind up at my own apartment every three or four days. My chives wilted and my cilantro fried in this crazy vegas sun. But my cukes are doing alright. Still, I was happy for the season's first farmer's market. I bought a whole lotta cukes, some red peppers, some garlic, and some dill. Do you know what that means? It means it's kosher deli pickle time! A new recipe- fermented pickles. I've never tried them before but the reviews insist they're just like New York delicatessen half sours, and friends, I've been dying for some good garlic dills. So I'm finally putting my big girl panties on. Lets hope nobody gets botulism!
Just found out a guy I used to be close with died earlier this week. He OD'd. Apparently the heroin that's going around is cut with elephant tranquilizers.

Aug. 26th, 2016

I couldn't get my affairs in order in time to get out to LA before the deadline for dropping out of BC without losing a portion of the tuition and because of my grant, I'm responsible for paying back any lost portion of tuition. It's senseless, completely senseless to put myself in debt out of haste.

I've decided to finish off this semester here and head west after Christmas. That should keep the protests to a minimum. But in the meantime, classes have never seemed more tedious...

I've been flying under the radar here for awhile. I feel like so much has simultaneously happened in the face of nothing happening. Where to begin?

There's sorority not sanctioned by the college a block or so down from Jude's apartment. It was mostly empty over the summer with two or three girls staying on to maintain the lease. Against all odds, I've befriended one of them...

And I made the mistake of going over there last night during move-in for the returnees. Catcalling. It doesn't just happen to women. I haven't been this unsettled in some time.

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