Le Chosen Un

and I finally got a working pen! The one I brought with me from NJ didn’t survive the trip... Well it did, but then it puttered out within a few days of being here so I’ve been *shudder* sober for nearly a month now.

And that’s no state of mind for anybody. 

I started writing this and then got high again and passed out, but I’m back. Ready to write a little bit before I head to work. 

My stupid ass already slept with some guy here. He had a piercing down under and that was a... Trip. I’m trying to keep my body count low, but he wants to play games and so it looks like he’ll just be another one night stand for me. I’m not pressed about it, but I do feel the burden of my number when the men have become all a blur. 

I’ve made a solid set of friends that I can go out with and drink and just chill with. They’re work friends but it’s good stuff. 

I’ve been to Disney twice. 

What else have I done? Oh, met a few celebrities because they constantly come into our office. 

And I’ve gotten comfortable being uncomfortable again. 

Like, I know I hate being so far from my family and it’s a weird thought that I’m no longer just 1minute or (30 minutes) away from them. 

The last time I lived “far away” was Atlanta and that’s been 6 years nearly. 

I’m still taking my French lessons but no longer with Paul since our schedules don’t align. I am NOT waking up at 5:30am just to get a brutal French lesson from the sexiest guy I’ve seen since Alex (Kiwi). Yes, Alex still sets the bar for the most attractive guy I’ve ever been with... Well, maybe.... Ben... But we don’t think about him anymore.

Anyway, yeah my French lessons are with another cutie named Pierre. He’s about to move to Japan though so that’s NEVER happening. 

Like I’m deluded, but I know my limits. It’s realistic that I’d go to Paris and meet Paul for drinks. My ass has no interest in Japanese culture so I doubt I’d ever go. I’d be so uncomfortable. The language is so foreign to me that at least in Paris, I can understand and respond. Japanese, I have not a single basis for a single word in that tongue. The food too... I can’t just survive on rice, but their palette is so different than mine. I would be miserable unless Pierre could really put me at ease, which I highly doubt. 

I’m not there yet and I’m already concerned about my decision.

I’m terrified out of my wits but I’m also very excited. 

I secured an apartment and accepted the job offer. 

Now, the only thing left to do is to give my notice to my current job and pack up all my belongings and drive across the country. 

I’m honestly dreading driving across the country because it just seems like such a big task, but I can do it. I’ve done harder things before.

I’m feeling truly blessed and following both my heart and my mind on this move. 

It’s something I’ve been wanting since 2019 at least and so I’m ecstatic to see how things fall in line. 

Hopefully I can develop a pretty decent friend circle in a relatively quick timeframe because I really don’t want to go it alone. 

That was not my favorite experience of the day but it is nice to be loved that much that it ruins someone’s day to know you’re leaving.

While she is super excited for me, she is very sad that I’m on my way to the West Coast. 

She couldn’t emphasize enough that it was a “blow” of epic proportions, but a “blessing” for me as well. 

( Aside: Also, my bastard of a brother bought a massive bag of kitkats and my kitkat loving ass has sat here and eaten a TON of them.)

Is happening!

I haven’t accepted the job, but I feel confident that I will be doing so. 

I’m going to visit this week and get a feel for the neighborhood(s) that I will be in. 

I’m still panicked and sweating literal bullets but I’m excited. 

Nervous as all hell, but excited. 

I’m so scared that I’m crying actually. 

This is a big move, all the way away from the comforts of my life.

I’ve recognized that John Mayer is my comfort artist so I’m relistening to “Stop This Train” for the nth time in my life when I felt paralyzed by fear. 

What if this is a mistake? 

It just feels like a huge move and a huge risk, but sometimes good things come from risky moves? 

I’ve always been a go-getter and as much as Philly is home and I love it, I’d much prefer to try out a new locale. 

It’s just quite scary but I’m trying to find my courage. 

I really do want to live in Los Angeles and they did come through with the money I asked for. 

Now, I’m listening to John Mayer’s “Clarity” and feeling a little calmer. 

I’m struggling with my feelings on this matter.

Sixteen years. 

How much I’ve grown since I was that 12-year-old child first learning the news that would change my entire life at its very core. 

I miss him beyond words and his loss has never lessened.

I still remember and sometimes even feel as though those early days are still here -- the raw shock, the heavy pain, and the unending uncertainty. 

I’ve lost my coping mechanism of pretending he was still alive, because it wasn’t healthy and it was something that a child would do but not something an adult should do. 

I’ve learned so much in his loss and in my grief. 

I’ve learned how to be my own person without regards to anything constructed by society, but choosing to function as best as I can within said society. 

I’ve learned that grief has many hues and shades, none better or easier than the other. 

I’ve learned how to exist in a world where nothing is promised, not even the day or the season. 

It’s been hell and back since my father died for many reasons that I won’t disclose, but hell has... receded a little... And I have more breathing space than I’ve had in 16 years.

It’s still a huge learning curve not having a father.

It’s still weird and bizarre and unusual not having his actual presence nearby.

I still search for him subconsciously in crowds, because maybe I’ll see his doppelgänger and for a split second everything will be alright before I remember and before I realize and before it sucks again. 

I know I’ll never truly get over his  loss, but the days have gotten easier. I breathe better these days. I don’t ruminate on his loss as much. 

But I’ll never forget. 

Even when I’m elderly, I’ll still miss Daddy. 

As much as moving home was a... good... idea, I miss living outside the house so damn much it physically pains my heart. 

I miss so much having my friends over my apartment or catching the train to meet them or ubering out the city to meet new friends. 

I feel so stagnant these days as though they blend together in monotonous rot. 

Everyone is so ‘laissez-faire’ about the pandemic and boundaries are being broken, my boundaries are being tested, and I’m still very much in fear of catching COVID-19. 

I haven’t adapted to the “oh I’m going to get COVID, but I’m fine because I’m vaxxed and boosted”. 

I want to be boosted AGAIN. Boost me up, Dr. Ouchie! Or in the words of my best friends, “boost me up daddy!” 

Just.... Like, I am so skeeved out by the general public. Germs are so... pervasive and it’s sometimes disorienting to imagine how quickly my lungs would succumb to COVID-19. 

Shit, I remember that time when I was little and the flu nearly took me out. I was out of school for three months with the flu and then pneumonia. 

We’re not doing that shit again. 

It’s why I haven’t been skiing this season or last. First of all, the people, YUCK! The people I’ve come across at ski mountains and in ski cafeterias are gross on a good day, I can’t imagine being around them during the pandemic. 

Plus, ever since my mind broke and had to be glued back together, I’ve been fearful of harming myself again in any way. 

And that includes the broken arm or leg I fear I may get while skiing, 

It feels as there’s an omen lurking over me looking for me to do one dumb thing. 

Fortunately, my guardian angel has been WITH IT but I have tested the limits of guardian angelship, of that I am sure. 

I’m now listening to a French podcast on “verlan” to calm me the fuck down. 

I’m feeling hyper even those it’s approximately 3 hours after my bedtime. 

But yeah, I have overworked my guardian angel so I’m finna behave my ass for a little while.

Just... Bless God, bless my angel, bless my ancestors that I am still in one piece and of good health today.

Well, as well as it could have gone under the circumstances. 

I was very nervous the whole time leading up to it, during it, and even afterwards I was like omg this is too much. 

My teacher’s name is Pierre and he was very kind, very polite. Very helpful. 

For the most part we spoke fluently with me making some errors while he helped correct. 

I learned quite a bit about him, it felt like going on a date in a different language on the computer which was BIZARRE. 

It was very nerve-inducing because I’m so self conscious about my French. Like I know it’s good and all, but it’s different when you actually have to speak it. 

Well it’s more of a conversation, just to see the general sense of my French capabilities. It might turn into a lesson though, we shall see. 

Ça fait un très longtemps que je parle en français avec quel qu’un d’autre que moi. 

Et, je parle mieux que j’écris. 

So that’s going to be a fun experience. 

I haven’t had a French lesson in years! YEARS I tell you. I’ve had conversations with friends in French, but it’s been a long time since I actually consciously practiced with another person. 

I chose a natively bilingual teacher who speaks English & French fluently. The fact that he is cute is just a bonus, but it’s really for me just a lesson. 

I’m looking forward to testing my French brain by flexing my mental muscles. 

To be honest, I’m not sure I can even speak in French for 30 minutes straight. That’s a long conversation.

I’ll just end up franglais-ing. It’ll be fine, I’ve been missing speaking French a lot lately.  

Part of me imagines that I miss French, because I miss Paris and traveling and the lot of that. 

Or maybe I just miss the sound of the language. 

It could be a whole many things. 

Sorry, my therapist doesn’t understand me entirely when I say I’m fearful of getting sick with COVID, because I have terrible lungs and would literally probably die so.... 

Like, she’s like “are you in them streets’ and I’m like no.... The streets are dangerous these days. There’s COVID, Philly has gone WILD with carjackings and other crime, and I’ve done everything there is to do in the city/area that I would want to do. 

I wanted to go to the West Coast because it would be brand new and exciting and liberating. 

There’s more to do outdoors there when you don’t have a whole 3-4 months of winter ruining everything. 

I don’t have any ski friends so living on the east coast during the winter is pretty much a bust. 

She couldn’t understand why I’m bored here and why I feel so unfulfilled living where I do. And it’s like, I’ve been here my whole life. 

It’s a small hometown, it’s not like living in a city that has tons to offer. 

I just want change is that so bad?