The grass is always greener; therefore, I’m a petulant brat.

It’s my “if this; than that” day:

So my brain has been all over the world lately… well.. mostly to Europe, at least this semester (Damn Eurocentric aesthetics and the talon-like grasp they maintain over the art historical field… and my heart…). Pour la plupart, It’s been fantabulous. I didn’t realize just how bored I was in G-ville until I left. It wasn’t the town’s atmosphere, exactly, but my definitive place within that atmosphere. I had a mind-numbing, incredibly redundant, job. That in of itself was a huge factor in my excessive partying (the nice way of saying, “casual alcoholism”). When your mind is that unfocused, that un-stimulated, there’s a definite tendency to resort to any kind of distraction. And in true L’s form, instead of a healthy distraction like yoga, or knitting, I reached for a bottle of vodka and I soaked up my listlessness like a drunken sponge.

Maybe I’m just not as creative/imaginative as I had hoped. Or maybe I’m just lazy. Regardless, it was a bad habit. And one that I didn’t feel like controlling. I didn’t have the drive to stem the flow because I didn’t know what else to fill it with. Luckily, my ambition/subconscious drive/whatever you want to call it, had stepped in and forced a change on my behalf: school, and luckily school in another city. Good job me!

And now I’m up in Tally, and during the week I don’t go out, I do my best to eat right, to exercise… and I still drink, but it’s much more controlled. I still associate it with a form of ‘reward’ though: Ok, you get your shit done, get the gym trip checked off, and then you can have a glass of that delicious Marlboro Sauvignon Blanc in the fridge! And I’m kind of okay with that. I mean, I enjoy drinking. The act, the lifestyle. I dunno…. I just like it. Maybe the ‘more enlightened’ or ‘happier’ among you will shake your head pitiously, and think, ‘oh honey, you’re wrong.’ But honestly… fuck off? Haha, I don’t know, like I said, I think alcohol has a place in the social structure of our lives. Sure, its place is a bit precarious, like the black-sheep of the family, but it’s lovable all the same, within moderation.

Anyways, talk about a tangent! That was not what I had initially planned to write about. But, like my my irish whiskey neats, I like that. I think it’s one of the more fun, free aspects of the blog-o-sphere writing venue: the ability to lose yourself in stream of consciousness. What I initially had planned to hash out was the frustrating stagnation of a different sort:

I like to travel, dammit. I love forcing myself out of my comfort zone and experiencing new things. That being said, it’s still not easy to push myself in that direction… at least not by myself. In fact, let me qualify that statement: I like to travel, but NOT ALONE. Being alone when you’re traveling sucks! For me, it adds a dimension of unneeded stress that taints the trip, it makes me feel lonely when I have no one to marvel along with me. Does that make me needy? dependent? Maybe. Probably. But I’m also pretty damn confident that I’m not alone in this regard. So why, why, WHY does it feel like every time in the past few years that I’ve tried to orchestrate a trip, it’s crumbled before it’s gotten off the ground? Someone can’t afford it, or can’t get the time off work. Why don’t our abilities to travel ever chronologically coincide?? The few times that it has recently, I’ve either stayed within my home state, or gone to a place I’ve already been (which I just find outrageous: I honestly haven’t been that many places, dudes!!). GAWD DAMMIT.

I must iterate: I don’t blame my friends or family for the inability to mesh our schedules and financial abilities. I understand that shit just comes up sometimes. I’m honestly not trying to sound like a dick. It’s just… frustrating. Especially since, for so much of my younger life traveling was more scary than exciting. And now I finally find it more exciting than scary and I just can’t make it happen. It heightens my sense of naivete, and I must (begrudgingly) admit that I hate feeling naive. I think it’s a pride thing. But it’s a definite sore spot for me, a button that inevitably gets pressed when I hear my classmates gush about their travels over the summer, or of summer’s long past. So jealous!

And now, I’m the one whose schedule is tightly bound: grad school doesn’t leave much room for gallavanting off at any old time. I suspect I’ll have to comfort myself with broadening my mental horizon for now. Damn, that’s annoying. (Like I said, a bit of a petulant brat today).

Current Jam: “Never There” Cake

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