zombies.

When I was in high school my friend Nick got a new computer for his graduation gift. It was an Apple laptop, and this was before everyone had them. One summer day Nick, Laura, and myself were lounging around at his house, and he was demonstrating the fancy features of his new fancy laptop. It had this function in which you could say "tell me a joke" and this digital woman would pop up and tell you a joke. The jokes were usually bad, but the feature was novel and thus fascinating to us. On this particular day we hovered around the laptop and instructed it to tell us a joke, and the conversation went a little something like this:

Digital woman: "Knock, knock"

Us: "who's there?!"

DW: "Zombies."

Us: "zombies who??"

....

....

silence.

Us: "ZOMBIES WHO???"

....

....

more silence. Apparently the fancy new laptop had frozen.

At this point Nick began screaming every expletive in his arsenal, which was a lot.

Nick: "ZOMBIES WHO YOU *&^&*&^&87#$$%@#$&*^(%^ YOU @#*&$#(*@(*&%#)"

And we never heard the end of the joke.

Several years later my friend Alex said that he had heard the joke elsewhere, and wondered if I would like to know how it ended. "It's pretty bad" he said. I decided I would just rather leave the joke unanswered, and imagine all the ways it could have ended, rather than be disappointed after all that time. So I still don't know how it ended.

As an adult, I have come to compare the 'zombies who' joke to relationships I have encountered that have ended before they had run the course that I would have thought. Had they not ended abruptly, what would have happened? Do I really want to know how it ends? More often than not, I think I would rather just be left guessing.

...because who answers the door for zombies? you're bound to get your heart ripped out. 

off the back of a truck

"If you have to ask, you can't afford it. This is the second most useful piece of romantic advice I have ever received...

If you have to ask someone to change, to tell you they love you, to bring wine to dinner, to call you when they land, you can't afford to be with them. It's not worth the price, even though, just like the Tiffany catalog, no one tells you what the price is. You set it yourself, and if you're lucky it's reasonable. You have a sense of when you're about to go bankrupt. Your own sense of self-worth takes the wheel and says, Enough of this shit. Stop making excuses. No one's that busy at work. No one's allergic to whipped cream. There are too cell phones in Sweden. But most people don't get luck. They get human. They get crushes. This means you irrationally mortgage what little logic you own to pay for this one thing. This relationship is an impulse buy, and you'll figure out if it's worth it later.

So, assuming you've gone ahead and purposefully ignored the first adage because it doesn't apply to you and you are in love the way no one in the history of spooning has ever been in love: now what? You've gotten what you want, but the state of mutual ownership has shifted. Like that piece of jewelry that you're never quite comfortable wearing, you become concerned with its whereabouts, who borrows it and for how long. You wonder if you'll lose it, if it might look better wrapped around someone else's neck. Admit it: wouldn't it be less stressful not having it touching your body at all?"

don't gotta work it out.

I recently rediscovered a horoscope that I had cut out of a newspaper towards the end of my stay in Sydney. It was winter, all my friends had moved away, and I was working as a waitress (which I hated). I had booked a 3 month trip and to follow that I was moving back home, and I just couldn't wait to leave. I don't usually invest a lot of faith in horoscopes, but this one was just perfect for that time in my life. Now that I think about it, it's pretty appropriate for my life right now, too. And has been for quite some time.

What happens if you walk daily through the same field? First, you tread a path. Then the path becomes a rut. Eventually your feet sink into the tramlines of habit. You do what you have always done, go where you've always gone. That's stability if you're enjoying it. It's prison, though, if you're not. Something soon has to lift you out of an ingrained pattern that is doing you no good. Be glad of your imminent release from a situation you've outgrown.

london calling

It's funny how traveling makes you do things you normally wouldn't consider doing. Maybe it's the "hey, I'll never see these people again" idea, or maybe just that you're so jet lagged that these things just make sense.

For example. Today I went shopping, and noticed myself doing the following:

- Upon remembering which side of the road people walk/drive on here, I felt an overwhelming urge to correct people that were walking on the wrong side of the path. "Oh, excuse me sir, I don't know if you're aware, but people walk on the LEFT side of the path here. Just wanted to make sure you knew that."

- Purchasing a sandwich, and despite having enough coins to pay for it, instead handed the woman a 10 pound note for fear that I would be struggling too much in my wallet, and God forbid the woman think I'm a tourist or something.

- Considering buying a jumpsuit. Apparently they're all the rage here, and I saw one in a store that had a lace back and actually went back to the store to look at it again. "This would be a great idea."

where is my mind?

Tragedy has struck...I have started attempting...online dating.

Yes, it's true. But mostly out of boredom. And I'm contemplating quitting any day now. Of the 2 dates I have been on, both have been sufficiently awkward, and even more so than anticipated.

Contestant #1: Knew too much about pigeons, wanted to discuss most recent relationship failures within the first hour of date, shared a one bedroom apartment with 2 (yes, TWO) other people, had a roommate that was a self-proclaimed Fascist, and started a sentence with "I probably shouldn't tell you this but...". After the "but" came "I was committed when I was 16." FAIL.

Contestant #2: Friendly enough, but would look at me like a deer in headlights every time he finished answering whatever question I had just asked. So I would ask another. And another. And eventually I just ran out of ammunition, and had to resort to random statements like how much I dislike shellfish. Not a complete fail, but enough to make me wonder what the hell we would talk about if we ever hung out again.

So...I'll give it one more try. Then I'm throwing in the towel.

such great heights

i wish that i could take the same approach to life that i take to running up a hill: keep your eyes right in front of you, and don't look at how much farther you have to go.

Some loves.

She would have done anything for him. Some women are like that. Some loves are like that. Most loves are like that, from what I can see. Your heart starts to feel like an over-crowded lifeboat. You throw your pride out to keep it afloat, and your self-respect and your independence. After a while you start throwing people out- your friends, everyone you used to know. And it's still not enough. The lifeboat is sinking, and you know it's going to take you down with it.