Boys and Back Roads

So the adventure began almost 3 weeks ago. I was without my trusty lap top for 2 of them so I apologize for slacking in the blog department. I basically only have one roommate; the other is attached to some part of his girlfriend’s anatomy. I would rather not say which. I mean I understand the need to see someone you are interested in/just started a new relationship with, but really. He hasn’t slept here since I moved in, and it had been a while before then. What kind of person falls into a relationship and immediately starts living with them? Stupid 19 year olds. That’s who!

Ok off of that rant since Little Kitten might actually read this, (who am I kidding, right!?) I am really enjoying being back in Oklahoma. I have been back roading.  Yes, the kind with a moving vehicle and beer in hand, illegal, I know. I almost got attacked by a bear while drinking on Webster Bridge. I inhaled fumes from burning foam. I drank around a fire in an oil barrel. I’ve kissed boys on back roads. I have consciously decided to listen to country music. I have looked at the stars in the bed of my daddy’s truck. Say what you will, but I am a little bit redneck and I love it! I think it might be one of my most endearing qualities. Right next to my awkwardness, my foul mouth, and my freckles.

So one important thing I have learned. Having a past with someone does not mean your present with them is going to be comfortable, and you should probably remember that. There have been a few situations where I have met up with someone I haven’t seen in a few years, and there was this awkward closeness. It wasn’t until I was alone after the fact that I was like, “I knew this person 3 years ago, and that’s a lot of time for someone to change.” I mean people are crazy, especially people from crazy-ass-meth town. So really all that confidence I had in them was not earned. But I am not off floating down the Deep Fork or anything so, it all worked out. And how, there is another situation where I was nervous because it wasn’t just a few years between the last time we had seen each other, it was like 6 years. We were both stupid over each other freshman year of high school. Nothing ever happened between us, but it was there and we were both aware. This is probably the only thing 14 year old Leah could even consider a good idea. I would high five her. This person seems pretty awesome.  But then again, the first time we hung out, beer, fire, and red dirt were involved. So this friendship was pretty much a given.

I really just can’t get over how happy I am to be back in the Tulsa area. I have missed the shit out of this city! It’s so pretty. I can’t wait to not be broke. There are local restaurants just waiting for me to eat them. I didn’t pay attention to so much when I lived here before, but I plan on making this city my bitch. I will know exactly where to touch it and what to expect from it when I’m done. And I couldn’t be happier with the freedom I have here. It really is a great place for a new beginning!

Overloaded

How do I have this much stuff? I mean really. I was thinking this was going to be an easy move. It’s just me, and I am only moving 4 hours away. Shit, too many things. Nervous about the move. Cam and I are going to get along fine. Other roommie is still kind of questionable. Oh well, I think I can tolerate anyone.

New jobs are terrifying. What if they do everything weird and I don’t like them? And I have to get readjusted to Tulsa. I think that’s almost worse than learning a new city, because I will have all this directional confidence. I am going to get lost, or give someone awful directions. What is this mess? Why am I worrying?

Worry/stress/anxiety makes me poop. I knew this because I like to take a nervous poo before performances, but really 4-6 times a day. That is how much I am pooping, I know you don’t want to know this but life is affecting my colon and I am not ok with it.

Time to learn how to sleep by myself again, it’s been a while. I am scared of the dark. And I get cold.

Kyle has me a little spoiled. I know it, he knows it. Cam is going to think I am a brat. And he will probably make me scoop my own ice cream. He has small hands anyway; I am probably a better scooper than him.

Dear high school friends I only talk to when I am home,

                Is there room for me in your life?

This is my head; now add to that leaving the home you have built with a significant other. Insert a side of insecurity and self exploration. Know that there is already a preexisting undiagnosed anxiety disorder hanging out. And you have the perfect cocktail for overreacting and panic attacks. It’s been fun, let me tell you.

I promise I’m not just writing to complain, I just want to note these feelings and this crazy now, so when I come at you will new Oklahoma crazy you see the difference. It should be fun for all of us.

It’s not even that I have a lot of useful things. I just have a lot of pretty things. How did this all fit in a dorm room, or into a single bedroom? Fuck.

On a side note, I have discovered that when you are living in a situation where everything that is intimate and personal is forced to be casual and out there. It will run over into the rest of your life and you will make an ass of yourself. But only if your name is Leah, and you are really good at making an ass of yourself. 

Honesty Spiders

What’s worse, the spider or the web?

I like to think rejection is like a spider. If you walk through the web, you’re going to spend the next hour freaking out over every little thing that touches you, looking for that damn spider. Now if you just find a spider, you can make the decision to squash it, or to let it outside so it can eat all the flying bugs. It’s the same with rejection. If someone is like “Hey, I’m just not feeling you, sorry.” You can either A. freak the fuck out and be all sad and stuff, or B. ask them why.

From there they spider is in their hands. They can choose to just ignore you, and never tell you why. And let you spend the rest of that week wondering what it was about you that turned them off. Or they can do the grown up thing, look the confrontation in the face and say “hey, you’re a nice enough person, but I really don’t like that one thing you do, or the way you talk.” It’s even worse when you have some back story with this person, then you’re like “um, hold the fuck on, where did all this come from, we had a fantastic time the other day!” of course maybe you are just oblivious to other peoples subtle hints.

This isn’t necessarily something I am going through right now, I just need to vent. I really think brutal honesty, no matter how harsh, is always the best policy. It’s like when you have a booger hanging off your nose, and you spend like 10 minutes just sitting around talking to people, and then one friend grabs you and says “dude, you have a lingerer, you really need to check your face out!” Then you blush because everyone spent the past few minutes staring at the giant ball of mucus on your face. It’s not good for anyone. I mean really, by being super honest, you are giving that person a second chance with someone else. It’s not that they have to change; you are just giving them the option.

There have been countless occasions where I was doing something super annoying subconsciously. Someone called me out on it, and I corrected the behavior. No one wants to be a super annoying douche bag. Help these people out. It’s your civic duty. Forget Sarah McLachlan and her orphan puppies. We need a sad song and an 800 number for honesty, people!

                

On moving in with boys

In about a month, I will be living with two single men. It’s like this whole reverse threes company thing. I couldn’t be more excited, or terrified.

1.     There is only one bathroom in the house. I am concerned about poop smells.

2.     What if they leave hair in the sink?

3.     What if I leave hair in the sink?

4.     What if I really have to pee when one of them is in the shower? I know I’m not afraid of just walking in and doing it, but I have to get in with their comfort levels.

5.     What if they don’t like anything I cook? Wait, never mind.

6.     I sleep naked, and I hardly ever wear a bra when I am at home. I’m not modest, but if I find pictures of my sleepy nakedness anywhere, I will murder them.

7.     What if they only watch horror movies and they think it’s funny to scare me?

8.     What if they run away from me when I cry?

9.     What if they cry?

10. What if they never do their dishes?

11. What if they accidently put my favorite jeans in the dryer?

12.What if they start wearing my underwear?

13. Are they going to mind if I wear their clothing?

14. Are they going to mind that I sing all the fucking time?

15. Are they going to ignore me when I need attention?

16. Are they constantly going to have annoying, skinny, beautiful women over?

17.   Are they going to play pranks on me?

18.   What if they think I’m annoying when I drink?

19.   What if they drink all my beer?

20.   What if one of them falls in love with me?

Most of my concerns will lose their sparkle after I take my first dump in the house. I highly doubt either of them will start eating my makeup, but I will kill them if they do. We have two rules.

1.       The pants rule. When bringing over friends, you must notify all members of the household within 15 minutes of your arrival. We don’t like wearing pants.

2.       No sex between roomies. No exceptions.

They are pretty easy rules. They make sense; there aren’t a lot of loopholes. I feel safe with those.

I am kind of viewing this whole adventure as me getting two new brothers.

Everything I have read about it being harder to write when you are happy is true. I have been pretty happy over the past few weeks. I had one really super awful week, heard a lot of really awful things, and went like 5 days on 15 hours of sleep. It sucked. Then I came home, and knew I couldn’t write about any of the things that were upsetting me, because it would involve me putting a bunch of business out there. And I know that none of you really want to read about all my drama anyways.

UPDATE: I had originally posted this in a separate post, but I deleted it. I need to learn about discretion.. or something.

Idle Curiosity

So, before I put all this out there I just really want everyone to know that, NO I AM NOT PLANNING ON MOVING ON/JUMPING IN A RELATIONSHIP. 

With that being said, I do want someone to take me out. I do want to go to a bar with my girl friends and flirt with men that are in my league. I also have to reevaluate which league I am in, because it’s obviously been downgraded due to an extra 40 pounds in my ass. Also, HOLY CRAP, I haven’t really dated, since, um, yeah... high school.  I did come to college with the mind set of “I’m not going to date” and I ended my freshman year with a long term relationship in the making. But there was never that whole, “hey I’m single, you look nice, take me out.” I always had the “You seem really nice, but I really don’t want to be your girlfriend” tag attached to my hip.

Now, back to the disclaimer at the beginning of this, I really don’t want to be anyone’s girlfriend. I need to be my own girlfriend, if that makes sense. I need to figure out what it is that Leah likes to do when she is alone for the 5^th night in a row. One of my coworkers diagnosed me with Bipolar Codependency, it makes sense. Cause I’m all like “I am mah own woman, roar” and then I’m like “oh hey, I was just kidding, how does my hair look, do you like my hair? I mean really, you should say something about the way I look, so I can feel better about myself.” Typing that was both exhausting and enlightening, because I was smacked in the face with about 45 different situations where I behaved like that. Gross.

I like feelings. I like to take all the feelings I have, throw them on the ground, and roll around in them. I like to do that with your feelings too. So this is where the whole other people thing comes out. It would be impossible for me to shut off the romantic side of my brain, I understand that some people can do that; I however, cannot. I like that nervous, “omg, did that cute guy just look at me” feeling. I like the “I’m getting pretty to go to the city with my girls to pick up some boys (or girls)” feeling. I want to be all excited and pissed off about something. I want to have fun, I want to be reckless, and I want to behave like a 21 year old. I want to know what it feels like to drink a beer in the shower, because apparently that is something that people do. The idea of cold beer in a hot shower sounds both pleasant and awful.  I want to go to the strip club with my guy friends and look at boobies. (Cam, this means you have to come with me.)And I want someone to take me out on a Saturday night, because they are romantically interested in me, but not in a serious relationship kind of way.

Maybe, I’m just needy. Maybe I am just trying to fill my brain with silly irrelevant thoughts so I don’t have to think about the week I just had.

Maybe, I’m just a girl.

I am a girl, I checked.

And it begins.

I feel like this is about as good as I could have hoped for as a first impression. I think this is going to be a good time.

10 reasons I kind of want to be a gay man.

1.        Everyone girl wants a gay friend. Maybe this is just a south thing, but really, skinny girls, fat girls, girls that climb on rocks. We all need male attention, and the fact that you have better fashion sense than us makes us love you. You speak infinite amounts of wisdom. You know how a man thinks, because you are one.
2.       You can talk about your sex life and not be a slut. And if you are a slut, it’s cool, because you are gay.
3.       Forget the sex life, you can openly talk about masturbation and it’s not awkward. Straight girls can’t do this, even though we all do it. If we do we must be some kind of sex maniac. If straight guys do it, they are lonely and desperate.
4.       Ok, this comes with being gay in general. But you actually understand the needs of your partner, because you guys are the same sex.
5.        All clothes are unisex for you. You can where guy clothes because you have a penis, and you can wear girl clothes because you like penis. And I’m not even talking about drag. You can totally wear girl jeans all the time, and girl shirts. You get to rock man cleavage.
6.        You can be a gossipy bitch and no one thinks anything of it. Now I guess this can be a downer too, because, as the gay friend you are totally stereotyped as the gossipy bitch. I can see where that would get annoying if you had no one to take you seriously.
7.       I am under the impression that gay men have sex ALL THE FUCKING TIME.  You have no menstruation cycle to work around. You have things like, Grindr and OKcupid, to get you through the lonely nights. Casual sex is widely accepted as part of your life style.
8.        Drag queens. I feel like all men are prettier than me now. I feel like I can see them all as women and it makes me cry at night.
9.        You know what your partners orgasms feel like. The male orgasm is a mystery to me. If I could switch sexes for a day, all I would do is fool around. I want to understand these sensations, and why you don’t like when I bite your nipples.
10.   You can be a hot mess, and people still love you. I have stopped being friends with girls because they were a mess. I just love my gay friends for it. Expect when I, in turn, also end up a hot mess. I love you, and I trust you, but for the love of god, DON’T LET ME TAKE SHOTS WITH YOU.

Now I understand, these are all stereotypes, and not all gay men are wonderfully fabulous. There are some people that will always be awkward and unpleasant, no matter who they sleep with. I also understand that there is a dark side to being gay, with discrimination, and marriage rights and all. It just looks fun, and sparkly.