the nonsensical musings of a clueless twenty something

Emo Ridiculousness and Other Irrelevant Stuff and Things

I lead a relatively dull and uneventful life. I work, I eat, I travel on occasion, I walk my dog, I read books…I write (shocking, right?).  One in a dozen days will ring exceptional and disrupt the monotony of my life’s scatter plot…but, alas, it’s not typical.

Nothing that I write about is all that interesting. I make generalizations about the things people see and think about on a daily basis…and then I relate it all to inanimate objects and trite metaphors.

I avoid serious topics like I do my ex-boyfriends’ Facebook pages (actually, that simile doesn’t work (even a little)).

Scratch that, I avoid approaching serious topics in a serious manner.

Rarely will you see me outright say, “You know what? That really sucked. And not only did it suck, it really hurt. And not only did it hurt, it made me think these things in this manner and that’s why I’m such an outspoken (albeit witty) bitch all of the time.”

Now and again, though, I’ll make an attempt at folding down my impenetrable bubble of sarcasm and take a shot at being…(I almost said “penetrable”…obviously not going to work here) myself.

People tell me that I have a knack for telling stories about my life without sounding like I’m 3 seconds from leaping off a tall building. I use sarcasm to fill in the space between my chest and where I keep the real stuff (at arms length). It’s the mortar of my composed and unaffected self.

I laugh when I hurt. I laugh when I’m nervous. I laugh when I love. If ever you’ve found yourself in a situation with me where seemingly inappropriate laughter takes place, rest assured there’s a good chance I’m trying
(desperately) to not freak out (in whatever way seems applicable).

(I can recall one situation where an individual called me out and was all “Why are you laughing? This isn’t funny.” And then I was all, “I’m not laughing because it’s funny, I’m laughing because it’s what I do.”

I subsequently got off the phone, burst into tears, drove home, destroyed a basket with a hair brush, drove to the gas station, bought a tall boy, slammed the tall boy, and then travelled to Nordstrom’s and purchased a Michael Kors watch (that seriously happened)).

I figure if I can keep everything in my life pumped full of a certain lightness, there’s less a chance of it falling down around me.

Really, though, most people and situations (the ones worth “it”) are equipped with a seriously mean gravitational pull. They crash down around you. They change who you are. They’re what you think about in that stretch of time where your eyes are closed but you aren’t sleeping.

Last year at this time, I had the details of my life nailed down. I knew who I was going to spend the rest of my life with, I knew what the foundation of my days would look like, I knew where I’d be taking up space and waking  up and doing things. And it wasn’t here. It wasn’t in this town. It wasn’t with these people. It wasn’t in this house.

Sarcasm didn’t work when that relationship ended. It still doesn’t work. It’s one of those things you have to let run its course…and some days it’s still running.

It makes your approach to everything different. You meet people and walk into situations in search of something that those people and those situations most likely can’t hold a candle to.

The search for that sureness is like constant background music. Quiet enough so that you can hear yourself think, but loud enough to distract you from the subtle ticking and mechanical whirring of your surroundings.

And you’re not going to stop listening to that song. It’s on a subconscious loop…repeat, repeat, repeat.

It’s never going to stop.

Until you find something else that you’d rather listen to.

There have been a few songs I’ve caught in passing. Ones that have made me stop and consider. Others that I could have listened to for a while.

But all in all, this is the one I keep coming back to. It’s home. It’s sweat pants and Reeses peanut butter cups. It’s camouflage boots and diesel trucks. It’s warmth and docks and rain, rusted water and dirt floors. It’s all of the things that will never make sense to another human being. Ever.

And I am so so so tired of hearing it.

I need new music.


I’ll listen to anything.

This entry was published on September 23, 2011 at 7:25 pm and is filed under Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink. Follow any comments here with the RSS feed for this post.

One thought on “Emo Ridiculousness and Other Irrelevant Stuff and Things

  1. I don’t know if you’re a fan of bluegrass, but it’s something new and different and I like it because the musicians are so talented. I recommend The Del McCoury Band, Dierks Bentley’s Up on the Ridge Album, Ricky Skaggs (one of the key musicians and contributors to bluegrass), Patty Lovelace has a few bluegrass albums out, and Michael Martin Murphey. Also, there are some really good blues artists out there, Rhona Vincent (from Missouri), Derek Trucks, Susan Tedeschi (sp?)…Derek and Susan are actually married, but she has so much soul in her music and guitar playing, it’s awesome!!

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