So This is the Real World?

in order to achieve happiness, we do things that make us unhappy. we work mundane jobs to earn money, day in and day out, and if we ended up with our dream job, we sometimes learn to hate what we do. if we haven't found them yet, we wait for our one-and-only, sometimes suffering heartache after heartache and growing too bitter to truly appreciate our lover when we've found them. we grow old and cynical and watch everyone that we've known die off. this is what we live for? to flail around hopelessly until we've settled for a life we may not have hoped for? there is no helping what happens to anyone, is there?

a simple explanation to my current angst: grandpa rauscher's dead, evan's gone, i've got a job, i'm on my period.

i received a letter from evan today, but i can't write a response. i always intend to write something peppy and fun for him, but when i reread what i've written, it's like, "holy fuck, dani, what is wrong with you?" when i try to tell him anything, suddenly i sound depressed and horribly needy. i'm going to keep the letters i've decided not to send, and we'll see how big that stack gets.

i'm considering not sending any more at all. he doesn't receive my mail, anyway: for some reason, they're holding my letters from him. he gets letters from his mom, but not from me. i don't know why. maybe it's my bubbly address. the guys in charge over at basic take one look at my envelope and think, "pleasant plain road? THAT'S FOR PUSSY BOYS, WE DON'T NEED THIS SHIT HERE." that's what i'm going to assume is happening.

i'll be fine soon, i'm sure. i'm just having trouble coping because there is no one to talk to about this. i've tried talking to bethany and ashley, but they don't like when i do. they try to change the subject, and i understand completely. i'm terrible to talk to right now. i'm a mess. i dream about evan coming home and wake up snoggin' my pillow (obviously one of the more entertaining aspects of my emotional distress).

it's not just him, of course. rusty was at my grandpa's funeral, and he hugged me. the fuck kind of ex-dad wants a hug? of course, that's not the worst thing about the funeral. i felt horribly guilty about every way i had ever wronged grandpa, and grandma seemed so sincerely happy to see me... she's all alone at that big ole' farm now. she can't take care of all that land by herself. i know that older people sometimes just give up on life when their spouse dies, and i'm scared for grandma now. i'm scared for all my grandparents. any one of them could die at any second. my parents could die. anyone can die! life is full of uncertainties, and they're all hitting me hard.

i don't want to angst out on everyone, but i can't help it. the longer i go without letting it all out, the worse it gets. right? i guess i'll stay pretty bad until evan comes home in september. but he'll leave me for good in january, when he goes to college, and i'll have to experience this crippling loneliness all over again. fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck, guys.

fuck.

Understanding Adolescent Idiocy.

'lo, all. sorry i haven't been posting too much, though i'm sure you don't mind. i've just been kind of preoccupied with evan and i haven't been going on too many expeditions with bethany and ashley because spring hasn't quite decided on being warm yet. the three of us did hang out last weekend: we ran around in places that were probably quite illegal to be running around in, we sang creepily in a very echo-y tunnel that led us under the new bypass, we made plans to go back to these places in the summer, when it's warm. we've decided to have rubber duck races in this creek next to some sort of bridge thing. we will hang out under that bridge often, i think, and we've decided that it may be quite fun to draw on the concrete walls. bethany, of course, is hesitant about vandalizing it to the extreme, but no one will ever be under there but us, guaranteed. it'll be fine, bethany!
now, i don't mean to beat the dead horse or whatever that expression is, but it seems that ashley and bethany are getting very fed up with adolescent behavior and i feel the need to put my opinion out there (again and again and again). they're sick of the drama, they are. thing is, guys, you're no better than the rest of us because you are teenagers, too. i'm not trying to say that in a cruel way, it's just the truth. maybe you don't get all worked up over some of the more popular things that teens get worked up about; i don't think i do that much, either. well, for the most part. we all know that i enjoy talking about boys just as much as "normal" girls, but other than that, i think i'm on just about the same level of teen drama as you. well... maybe not. i'm very melodramatic. but hush! i'm trying to explain, here! you guys get more upset than you need to sometimes, too. we all do! bethany, do you remember when a certain clarinet player said a certain something that irked you, and you grumbled about it for a whole week or two (sorry if i'm exaggerating)? and ashley, you and i both - actually, all three of us - have been way worked up over other friends' decisions and actions. i'm not trying to make you look bad, i promise, i'm just pointing out the fact that we all do it. we all do, regardless of our age. i mean, look at all of our parents. i usually have it pretty easy, i know, but when my mom disagrees with me, she really disagrees with me. i mean, i'm banned from FML because she wouldn't even look at the site to see what it was! so difficult, so dramatic. and your parents can be awful. i've heard the stories. and hey, they're not teenagers!
teenage drama in particular is kind of fun to me. i mean, think about it. we've nothing better to freak out about, so we ('we' as in teenagers, not 'we' as in you and me) blow up the teensiest things, just to give us something to do. i know i enjoy going on rampages about random crap; you know i do, too. sometimes it's just easier, focusing on the petty things like that so that we don't have to focus on anything real. i mean, look at me! i couldn't tell you a thing about politics, the war, israel, or anything important going on in the real world. i tried paying more attention to politics, but it just worried me too much. i would go outside after the presidential campaigns and just talk to myself about how everything was going to be so messed up after obama changed everything. i got concerned about political parties and which one i supported more: i really did not want to be a republican, but i didn't want to be a democrat, either. i will continue to call myself an independent, because that's easiest, and i'm not going to worry about things i cannot help. real problems just aren't fun! we're young, we're healthy; why ruin our fun with reality? lock up that Reality Monster, and keep him locked up 'til you can't hide him any longer! take comfort in the fact that we can dwell on petty things at this age, that the Reality Monster isn't chewing our ass off all day. sometimes he takes big chunks from our cheeks, but imagine the asses on adults! they've got everything to worry about: work, money, houses, cars, spouses, children, time... i say it's best to just enjoy life while we can.
i'm certainly not saying that the only way we can have fun during adolescence is to blow up over the little stuff, but i'm saying that if the petty things are pissing you off, just lay back and bask in the simplicity of it. i don't know, maybe i'm wrong. but it makes sense to me. also, i know i'm a hypocrite sometimes. i'm just trying to help, and to blog about something, anythiiiiing.