March 28, 2012

play it again, sam.

[warning: the following contains a bunch of spilled information from my brain that you might not particularly care about.]
why do people say, "YOU WILL LOVE MARRIED LIFE", and then, feel like it's necessary to add one hundred exclamation points? actually, why do they feel like it's necessary to tell you that you'll love married life at all? isn't that kind of the point of getting engaged? i don't know the answer to that; i've never been engaged. but if i had, one hundred thousand people telling me something i already knew would get under my skin. and in not a good way. (awkward phrasing, but interesting. so, it stays.) i am like one big giant cynical puff of hot air, and i usually don't apologize for that. some people think it's refreshing, but i haven't met any of them for a while. i have an embarrassing school girl crush on a boy i went to high school with... who actually still goes to high school... and because i am amazing, i sometimes attend the occasional alta high school sponsored activity. and because i am unlucky, he's always there. and because i am bizarre, i get all weird. i like to think i'm quirky. last time we spoke, he asked me if i was dating anyone. i felt like i let that one go too far, so now i just avoid him whenever we're in the same room. speaking of too far, musician hands' name is sam... i'm almost positive. mind you, we still have never communicated verbally. or at all, for that matter. all i know is that i can seriously do some mind blowing things with a class roster and the process of elimination. i even scare myself. today he sat behind me, and smelled fondly of bubble gum tooth paste. it was kind of endearing. around 4:00 this afternoon, i accidentally killed myself for a good four hours. i hate it when i do that. but when bedtime calls, no matter the time, you don't ignore it: a rule i live by. louis armstrong's holiday station came on pandora myseteriously, and do you know something? i lingered. i couldn't change it. then, i had a panic attack about the eggs in my ovaries, worrying that they might be depleting too rapidly... which is actually true, hence the lady business stuff. it is unsettling to know that i am losing a little bit of my womanhood twelve times a year. tmi? today, i watched casablanca in my literature class, and came to the conclusion  that humphrey bogart can toast to looking at me any day he wants to. and my mother's pajamas, rolled up, just like she does it, a cup of tea, and leonardo da vinci are great company for a sleepless night. so if you need me, i'm probably still awake.


  1. I'm guilty of the "You will love married life" crime. My bad. I will learn> Love you Courty Bee.

  2. Cordy. I miss you. It took me ten minutes to decipher this blog post. But then I did. And I loved it. You still have plenty of eggs my love.

  3. I feel like this post says about you as a blogger what Jackson Pollock's entire body of work says about him as an artist. Random, purpose unknown, and in weird ways 100% organized in thought, and just by knowing you as well as sisters do, I completely get it!

  4. I am still worried about my egg count... I think no matter what the internet says our math was right.


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