When You're Not Looking

Another magnificently drab night here in New Bern...

I just read/sang my way through all of Les Miserables, which would be fun if there were other voices. I have a horrible "man" voice. Actually, I could say that I have a horrible voice. 5 years of singing with Freese, and then I let it fall by the wayside. I used to be able to breathe from the diaphragm naturally, and now I have to remind myself. Oh well, it was fun. I just felt silly, because I started crying during my "performance".

I've tried to search out New Bern's figurative Square. All I've heard so far is that there's nothing to do here. That has to be bullshit, right? I mean, we always said there was nothing to do in Taylorville, but we all knew there was always something to do, legal or not. Maybe it's just the mindset of a military area...

Here's a question to all of you people who knew who knew about Ani DiFranco in high school: why didn't anyone ever tell me about her? One relatively drunk night, my roommate Monica and I pondered this with some depth. How did we not know Ani when she's such a big part of our life now? We cleaned to Ani; we drank to Ani; we dyed our hair to Ani. She (Mon) would say, "I listened to Tori Amos in high school! How could I not know Ani?" I just said, "I listened to....crappy music...in high school. I didn't know about Dashboard until the very end of my senior year." I think that was the end of the conversation. If it wasn't the end, it was prolly drunken repetition. I tend to repeat myself when drunk in Champaign. I can't say about Taylorville. I'm guessing it makes me feel more sober while prolly making me look and seem more drunk. I think I'm going to miss Champaign more than I thought. I'll miss our absolutely tiny apartment that was always dirty. I'll miss our crazy drunken nights in the kitchen with the bunny/bunnies. I'll miss the random times i went to jazz night at zorba's and the random times i was around for a random theater thing of tessa's. I think they were so much fun, because they were random. You know, pleasantly surprised. I love surprises.

I'm sitting in my bed, getting butt-itis from surfing through wedding sites...and wearing my "yoga pants". They really shouldn't make these so comfortable. I don't want to do yoga in these, though I should, because I haven't today. I want to veg with my Cheddar & Sour Cream chips, my green olives, and my ever present Mt. Dew...and listen to whatever my computer shuffles up.

This place could be a breeding ground for insanity. Ok, that's a little dramatic. It's just the apartment; it feels so disassociated (is that even a word? i don't feel like looking it up) with the real world. Keely and I used to talk about this bubble (this bubble, because in my mind, it is always the same bubble) we would periodically be in. We only talked about the bubble when we thought it was in place. Then, we'd do something or say something outrageous to see if anyone noticed. They never did. Well, my experiences conclude that it's fun to be in a bubble with someone...and it sucks alone. I spend so much time in my head that when I do speak, my voice surprises. I mean, I don't really sound the way I sound in my head...just as how I'm often thrown when I see pictures of myself next to other people. I mean, I'm definitely not that short in my head. I think that if I didn't usually spend this much time in my head, just thinking, before I came here, I would already be on my way to crazy. Well, a different kind of crazy.

posted by molly @ 8:11 PM