Crux 1:
It's 130 in the morning and my friend has invited me to live with her in Vermont as an alternative to matricide.
Which proves just how good my friends are that they'd want to keep me from incarceration, certain damnation, and put up with myself and my cat for an undefined amount of time.
Loaded on Demerol and with little else to do, the idea of "elsewhere" is tempting in any form.
Especially since my mother is kicking me out in 5 months.
I've never been to Vermont. It sounds prettiful and pretentious, so it can't be worse than the parts of Dallas I already know and love best, or the suburb I live in now.
Cons: boyfriend is here in Texas.
love boyfriend
no job now
no savings
hard to look for a job so far out of state ahead of time
need to finish my master's
master's program is in Texas
crazy, and my medical support is here, along with all my friend support network
Pros: Friend is arty
Friend is crazy herself and understands mental bullshit
Could maybe finish Master's there?
ROAD trip
Do something different for a change
Pretty
So that's that. I've decided to make one of my goals going up there for at least one week. I'll drive myself and bum around and see what there is to see. Aiming for sometime in between May and August...of course if my mother actually kicks me out things will be different. I'm still not 100% sure that wasn't bluffing.
I'm jealous of the idea of their Studio Center. I miss doing art so much, and since I've been at home I haven't painted once.
That realization of my lack of creativity has just made me very sad even with the Demerol veil draped over everything. Maudlin clichéd thoughts of wasted potential and misspent youth can only mean one thing: it's time to [attempt] to sleep.
At last parting thought: this morning I was dreaming that I was a drummer in a band. Like most dreams my hair was short and blonde again, and I picked up a very large stick, like one you'd hit a gong with, and went down all these crazy stair flights in this pub because i HAD to bang on this door for one song because of its particular resonance (door 5). But this guy who worked there had mixed up all the numbers and I couldn't find the right door. So I cried, and then he comforted me by giving me a piece of cheese and said he'd done it so I would stay there longer, and I asked if he was hitting on me, and he was. And then this other guy gave me another kind of cheese, with pepper corns in it and creamy, and wanted me as well. But I walked away sucking on the peppercorns and letting the cheese dissolve into silky creamy goodness in my mouth and kept walking down the stairs, abandoning the band, pub, and potential suitors.
