Welcome to Chaos

Hello,

I leave for Paris in 20 days.

Thank you.

So, the date that I went on on Sunday was fun. However, it turns out the guy is a secret jerk-douchebag. That’s never a good thing. I don’t know if he’s actually a secret jerk, but he hasn’t called me yet to hang out again. I even took the initiative and sent him a nice little text, asking him how he was doing. He told me that he had a busy week and that he was going to have an extremely busy weekend. Okay, that’s fine. We’re all very busy. But, he never said anything along the lines of, “I know I’m very busy this weekend, but why don’t we do something next week?” No. He didn’t respond with those words. I think that’s because he doesn’t want to see me again. Or, he’s a jerk. Or, I don’t know, something else. I suppose it’s really not that big of a deal. I only went out with the guy once. But, it’s still frustrating. Maybe I was just too much too handle for him? I know I’m quirky, but in a good way, of course. I don’t think he was able to deal with an interesting person. That’s too bad.

I think I’m going on a date tomorrow. Yikes!

OH, I saw Elvis Perkins today. Live, at a record store. Does that even happen any more? Well, I guess it does, and he was incredible! I think everybody needs to listen to his music.

Flannery O’Connor (Part 2)

Sorry everybody, now that you’ve got me started, I need to keep giving you little tid bits of O’Connor’s writing.
Here is more, just for you:

“‘Of course,’ she said, ‘if you know who you are, you can go anywhere.’ She said this every time he took her to the reducing class. ‘Most of them in it are not our kind of people,’ she said, ‘but I can be gracious to anybody. I know who I am.’
‘They don’t give a damn for your graciousness,’ Julian said savagely. ‘Knowing who you are is good for one generation only. You haven’t the foggiest idea where you stand now or who you are.’
“She stopped and allowed her eyes to flash at him. ‘I most certainly do know who I am,’ she said, ‘and if you don’t know who you are, I’m ashamed of you.’
…
“‘Will you look around you,’ he said tensely, ‘and see where you are now?’ and he swept his arm jerkily out to indicate the neighborhood, which the growing darkness at least made less dingy.
“‘You remain what you are,’ she said. ‘Your great-grandfather had a plantation and two hundred slaves.’
‘There are no more slaves,’ he said irritably.
“‘They were better off when they were,’ she said. He groaned to see that she was off on that topic. She rolled onto it every few days like a train on an open track. He knew every stop, every junction, every swamp along the way, and knew the exact point at which her conclusion would roll majestically into the station: ‘It’s ridiculous. It’s simply not realistic. They should rise, yes, but on their own side of the fence.’”

-Flannery O’Connor, “Everything That Rises Must Converge”
I honestly cannot get enough of this story. I will forever be in awe of Flannery O’Connor. Oh my goodness.

Inspired by Jenni:

Short stories (actually just one):

“He opened the door himslef and started down the walk to get her going. The sky was a dying violet and the houses stood out darkly against it, bulbous liver-colored monstrosities of a uniform ugliness though no two were alike. Since this had been a fashionable neighborhood forty years ago, his mother persisted in thinking they did well to have an apartment in it. Each house had a narrow collar of dirt around it in which sat, usually, a grubby child. Julian walked with his hands in his pockets, his head down and thrust forward and his eyes glazed with the determination to make himself completely numb during the time he would be sacrificed to her pleasure.”

Flannery O’Connor, “Everything That Rises Must Converge”

Oh my god. If I could write like this, I would never do anything else.

I don’t like creepy individuals.