Practice What You Preach
or
How I Got My Restraining Order

Only a few hours after writing the entry that is below this, I ended up sending this email to some kid on some site with personals.

"Subject: Not so good at this whole thing...

You look very familiar to me. I am sure it is just
from seeing your profile on here or, perhaps, on some
other random personals site. I know that I have meant
to speak to you before, but as stated in the subject
line, I am really not so good at this whole thing. I
noticed you are studying French. That is, rather may
still be, one of my majors once I am back in school
this fall. I am undecided. Probably will be though.
I guess it really depends on where I am accepted.
Hopefully, I will make it into Tisch at NYU for their
creative writing program. Who knows. Rambling just a
little. I apologize. Anyway, my point, I won't lie
and say that I did not notice your picture first. I
mean, I did. You are a very attractive guy. I also
cannot say that I think our souls are connected as one
on some ancient metaphysical plane, because I would be
completely full of shit. One, I do not even know you
or much about you aside from a brief description on
your profile. Two, I don't even know what that is
supposed to mean. Three, who the hell talks like
that, I mean honestly. If I have sounded at all
throughout this novella of an email to a nameless
stranger a bit wordy or flowery, I apologize. I am
working on a novel write now and have gotten into that
mindset. I know, it is kind of annoying. It is also
the reason behind my incessant rambling. I don't know
what the hell I am talking about anymore. Look, in
summation, I think you are very attractive, don't seem
crazy (though this whole assessment is bases on only a
handful of lines), and would like to possibly get to
know you. Which is also not to say that I am after
sex or a boyfriend or anything like that. You just
seem like you might be a cool guy to know and be
around and whatnot. Damned stream of consciousness.
Okay, I think I have terrified you enough for one
evening. Hope to hear back from you, but after
rereading my garbled verbal diarrhea, I would
COMPLETELY understand if you never did. Also
anticipating a possible restraining order. Okay
that's all. Well, other than my email address is
the cow says 'mooooo!'. Okay, now, that is all.

Later,

Preston"

So yea...and it is really not that I want to jump his bones or date him or anything. I really don't know him. I know that I have either spoken to him before or read several of his profiles in several places. Not really sure which. Either way, I guess that I am really not going back on what I said. I am just trying to find new friends is all. Stop looking at me like that, bastard.

Later Consuela.

The Three R's: Relationships, Writing, and Reclusion

I really have not written anything in here that has been worth anything lately (though 'lately' could probably be easily interchanged with 'ever'), but I have really not had all that much to say. I watched some movies. I went to Memphis. I had sex with myself. I ate alot. Worked out a little. I was depressed for eighteen days. I got over that. Several people have come into my life in recent months. Several have left. Several have left and then made a surprise comeback, not always a good thing necessarily. Several that I would rather see leave have stuck around. Nothing has really been going on. Same ole same ole.

The only thing new in my life right now is the new book I have decided to write. It is going to be a sort of Sordid Lives meets Twin Peaks. I am excited about it, but who is to say that in a couple of months I will not have gotten bored with this one as I did with the last. I mean the last one was alright, but it was a gay book, something I have absolutely never had any desire whatsoever to write. It is still nowhere near being completed, but I needed a break from it. I am pretty sure it will be a running project over a number of years that will be worked on during moments of writer's block on things I actually care about. Who knows. I doubt it will ever be finished though as I have no intention of trying to have it published, and it doesn't really hold any special place in my bowels. The new one, however, is going to be my masterpiece. I can already feel it.

What else? I am really wanting to get the hell outta Mississippi, but I don't know when it will happen or to where I will move. I do know that I want to pretty much just pack up all my belongings in the middle of the night, not tell anyone, and disappear to begin anew in some other part of the country. I had thought about Memphis since I have friends there and always have fun visiting, but I would rather move somewhere where I am trying to make it on my own, ya know. To not have to answer to anyone or rely on someone else for support. I think it is more that I have always had such a huge support system to fall back on, emotionally, spiritually, physically, that I want to see if I am capable of taking care of myself. I mean, I am almost twenty-four years old. I should already have finished with, at the very least, one degree or one novel or one short film or one brilliant invention or one anything. Instead, I work day in, day out in a hospital pharmacy, a job originally only to get me through school and now part of the reason I am not in school, for deadend pay and no hope at all, while here at least, for a better future. Two of the pharmacists I am working for are twenty-four for Lurline's sake!

I also am completely over men. Not over them, but I am done with them. Well, assuming you have read the rest of my posts, you all know that I am a whore. Not in the throw-my-legs-behind-my-head sense of the word but in the oh-your-name-is-(Insert Name)-I-think-I-love-you sense of the word. Every Tom's Hairy Dick that comes around has me swooning. It is pathetic! The book He's Just Not That Into You was written with me in mind, I think. Granted, a more appropriate title would have been If You're Into Him, Then He's Just Not That Into You. Not that I am having a pity party or anything right now, because I'm really not feeling all that sorry for myself at the moment. That party went on for a good long minute over the last few weeks, the coffee has been served, and the taxis from M.A.D.D. have been deployed. That party has come and gone. This is more of simply stating facts. At my last party I said that I am destined to be alone. At that time I was just talking all out my head thanks, in part, to being enebriated from too much depression consumption. Now, I realize it is true and I embrace it. I am alone. I will always be alone. Not since Eeyore have I found anyone that I'd be really willing and had really felt stood a chance at a serious longterm relationship. He and I only broke up last December 28th or 29th. I take that back. There has only been one since him, but I am not going to talk about that right now. I just know that, and have accepted the fact that, I, Preston Lastname IV, am meant to forever be single. I know that I'll always have friends, so I don't really need to say that I will be alone. Some people were meant to be in long term, meaningful, monogomous relationships and others were meant to be the quirky, single nextdoor neighbor. I fall into the cup of sugar category. I am okay with that now. Really I am. Who are you trying to convince, Preston? Shutup. I am just repeating myself because I apparently had a break down and was sobbing to Gay Momma in Memphis last weekend about this exact thing. It is like this. I really do not like that this is the way that things are for me, but I accept it. The world is made up of all kinds of people. I am not in the groups that I would have necessarily chosen for myself, but it is okay. Honestly, I would give up almost anything in this world to swap lives with Jackson or his boyfriend. They are completely crazy in love with one another, have awesome jobs, are both beautiful, and each is famous in his own way. I am slightly more than slightly jealous. I am green as Elphaba to be honest, but I am trying to get over that.

I think this book is going to do me some good. It will give me something to completely pour every ounce of myself into. It is a way for me to become a recluse without going at it full force. Maybe, running away into my own thoughts and my writing will take care of my urge to actually run away. Maybe. Stranger things have happened.

Later Consuela.

Quickie Quote

I am reading a book by Gregory Maguire entitled Wicked: The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West. It is all I have been talking about lately. Well, not all, but I do keep rattling on and on about it. Sort of a period fantasy novel. It tells the "true story" of Elphaba, the Wicked Witch of the West, and how she wasn't actually wicked, just misunderstood. It is really really good. Elphaba reminds me alot of Daria Morgandorfer (not sure about that spelling) from the MTV toon Daria. She is so dry and "matter of fact" about everyting, but hell, she grew up green for Lurline's sake! (READ IT) It makes me happy and stuff. Finally another book that is causing me to go on my nightly drug deliveries through the hospital while trying to not run into anyone, drop any meds, and somehow balance the book open. I can't put it down. I am only doing this one (I might add to it later) to write down a quote from the book.

"I've told you before, I don't comprehend religion, although conviction is a concept I'm beginning to get. In any case, someone with a real religious conviction is, I propose, a religious convict, and deserves locking up." - Elphaba (the Wicked Witch of the West), Wicked: The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West, Gregory Maguire

Later Consuela.