You know how when you ride public transportation and there’s no empty seats by yourself, you usually end up sitting next to someone, right? Well, when a free seat pops up after a couple stops and there’s a free seat available next to no one, I always feel like an asshole if I move. Like, if I get up and move to the clearly open seat surrounded by no one i’m basically telling that person I sat next to for two stops, “i hate you and i don’t want to sit here anymore.”
So I sit there with that same person my entire duration of my trip, or until they get off before me. Even if we’re surrounded by empty seats.
Today on the tube I had to squeeze in between two men to sit down. I usually stand for the most part because as you all might not know, i’m 6 feet tall. My legs are meant to be extended, and one thing I hate is small spaces involving sitting down. My stop wasn’t for 7 more stations, so I said fuck it and wedged my way in between these two heavy set gentlemen. I plopped down and the one gentleman to my left ruffled with his paper, clearly not liking the idea of me squeezed up against him. I mean, I can’t blame him, i’m not a tiny girl, I got long arms that could probably hug the earth. The other gentleman didn’t mind at all, after all, he was the one I kept bumping into when the train kept breaking.
After about 3 stops in, I got so incredibly cozy being next to them, I ended up falling asleep on the one that didn’t hate me. It was like I was stuck between two puffy clouds. Now had this been the summer, I probably wouldn’t even do this. But it was cold, I was cold, they were warm, and it was like I was receiving a giant hug. So you can’t really blame me for instantly wanting to curl up into a ball and knocking out. I’m sure they could, because the last thing they probably wanted was some strange girl nestling them making a nook on their sides on public transportation. I don’t know how else to explain it without already sounding weird other than that they felt good.
I like big guys. Not muscular or boxing ring kind of big, but that teddy bear round kind of big. They feel comfortable sitting next to during those wintery days. Like a big ol’ cozy blanket. So to the big men out there keeping women warm, I appreciate you. Especially if you come across someone like me (or well.. me) and allow to be made into a nook. Because I will nook you.
When I was a kid and my dad pissed me off, I would always threaten him that one day I was going to run away. There I was with my arms crossed in bed vowing on my Jem and The Holograms sheets that if he didn’t let me finish my final level in Zelda, I would run away the next day and never come back. The next morning I woke up to my suit case packed with some of my clothes, my teddy, and a packed lunch, along with a note from my dad telling me to bundle up since it gets cold at night and that he loves me. I stomped my feet around my room, grab the suit case and proceeded walking to my playground. There I was, 8 years old being a one woman wolf pack with my lunchbox, dragging my suitcase to the next corner, determined to run away. Mind you my dad was trailing behind me with my grandmother, but that moment I felt rebellious. I felt sweet freedom and the world at the tips of my fingers. Well, the tips of my fingers that were free, I mean after all I had a lot to carry in order to run away. He packed my suitcase heavy on purpose.
Needless to say, after about two hours of being bored by myself and eating my entire lunch, I decided this whole one woman wolf pack would only be cool if I could play Zelda. And Zelda unfortunately was back home. So I went back to the place I vowed to runaway from. Not just because of my Nintendo, but deep down, I knew I was being brat. But like, super super super deep down. Because I wasn’t about to admit that shit.
This is the same mind set that I have with my love life. I cross my arms in bed, vowing on my big girl sheets that I got from Ikea that I will not like another person for a very long time and if I do, i’m ignoring it and run away. So, I pack my own emotional suitcase the next day, and leave. Why? Because i’m a one woman wolf pack, damnit. I don’t want to like someone, I don’t want to have crushes and feelings. Just like when I was 8 years old, I felt the rebelliousness and the sweet freedom of not having someone to care for.
And just like the past, maybe not after about two hours, instead, after a couple of months, I don’t get bored by myself, but I end up getting a crush. A stupid, tiny, harmless, crush. I sit down on top of my suit case and tell myself once again, maybe this whole one woman wolf pack isn’t really cool after all. Okay, it is cool, but it’s not as fun as it previously was. And maybe it’s not Zelda that i’m changing my mind for, but it’s this person who turned this stupid, tiny, harmless crush into a real life ‘what if’ situation for me, and maybe… just maybe i’m being a brat once again by ignoring it.
So here I am on the same metaphorical playground, swinging back and forth deciding what to do. Do I stick to my guns and continue on this whole lone wolf thing, or do I drag my suitcase back down the street I once came from and return home, giving whatever this might be an actual shot. The choice would be a lot better if it involved Zelda. But i’m not 8 years old, and he’s not a game that can be played on Nintendo. And deep down, like super super super deep down i’m okay with this. I’m okay with… having feelings for him. Although, i’m not about to admit that shit either.
I think I give off this scent that only crazies, erratics, and well, dramatic people can only smell. Sort of like my own personal bat signal hovers around my head any time one of the above comes across me. As if as soon as they see me the first thought is, “yeah this girl is one of us, I can totally ask her odd questions without judgements!” I’m pretty much the internet in the real world. I am the Matrix. (Okay not really).
I’m trailing off the subject. As I was walking home with my numerous bags of groceries filled with dinner ideas that more than likely won’t happen, in which case I bought a lot of bags of Cheese Balls, I come across a young man in the courtyard of our apartment complex talking to himself. Now, as you all know, nobody in their right mind talks to somebody or interacts with someone who clearly is having a logical conversation aloud with themselves. I focus on the building door which is about 20 feet away from me. I quickly pick up my pace when the gentleman rushes out saying, “Miss! Miss! Can I trouble you for a quick second? I just have a question.” I immediately run through my generic answers for such these occasions, “ I have no money, i’m probably broker than you, if you want you can have a bag of cheese balls if you like? I don’t have a mobile either, I’m in a hurry. Cheese Balls?”
Hm, reflecting back, I think he might of thought I was the crazy one. He raised his eyebrow and said, “no no, but thank you, I just have a question, i’m about to break up with my girlfriend in the next 10 minutes and I really need to know if this break up speech is mental or I make a complete arse out of myself and my mate’s not picking up his mobile to coach me through.” I raised my eyebrow back and replied in a shaking voice, “you want to break up with me?? YOU WANT TO BREAK UP WITH ME?!” He started stepping away from me. “Oh, I was just practicing as your girlfriend, you know, getting into character” I told him. He started to laugh, “Bloody hell that was frighteningly good.” I dropped my grocery bags at my feet and told him to practice his break up speech with me. He cleared his throat, broadened his shoulders as if he was the interviewee and I was the employer. He began,
We’ve been together for over two years now
I interjected, “this is starting off like you’re about to ask the girl to marry you.”
This .. this just isn’t working out anymore. I’m not happy and I can’t make you happy. I think it would be in both of our interests if we parted ways.”
I want to keep the flat we live in since it’s close to the tube and my job, you can stay as long as you need to until you can find a proper place on your own.”
I interjected again, “…just to throw this out there, she might kill you. Not saying 100%, but you will need to more than likely step back out of rage. But if she starts to cry, call yourself a shit head. And if she agrees you’re a shit head, then apologize again for being a shit head and you still want to break up.”
"I.. am a shit head."
I put my hand on my chin, “indeed.. indeed.”
"We can sit down and talk about this some more or I can leave the flat and give you some space to call your mum or you friends to come over. I really really am sorry, but we both deserve to be happy and I’m just not happy with y..
I yelled out, “DON’T YOU DARE SAY THAT SENTENCE!”
"I’m going to give you some space, but i’m here if you want to talk more. I’m a complete arse, there is nobody else so don’t think it’s someone else, I just can’t be in a relationship right now and live with them at the same time. Please in time forgive me. I’m sorry, Laura."
I gave him my approval on his speech and he reached down to give me a hug for listening. I patted his back and said, “you know you are a shit head.” He half smiled and replied, “I know, i’m a shit head.” I then picked up my groceries, walked into my apartment complex and gave a giant sigh. I almost felt like I was being broken up with. I felt bad for Laura, even though I had no idea who she is. But I know tonight, Laura is going to have a shite Monday and if I knew where she lived, I would have left her a pint of ice cream and a bottle of vodka at her door with my mobile number. It was the least I could do for providing a platform for her now ex boyfriend to bounce off a break up speech with. Yeah I know, now i’m the shit head.
I don't know what kind of blog you were expecting.
I’ve been getting a lot of flak lately for my blog, which to be honest is kind of hilarious because that’s like a stranger coming up to you and slapping your diary out of your hands shouting, “YOU AREN’T CHRONICLING YOUR LIFE ACCORDING TO HOW I SEE FIT!” See how ridiculous that is? I can’t apologize for something i’m not doing wrong. What I can apologize for is if I bore you to death. By all accounts, I’m sorry.
But this is what you have to understand. I’m not an art blog, a gamer blog, a comic blog, an anime blog, a (insert whatever you see most of) blog. I’m a personal blog. This.. (i’m currently extending my arms all around my laptop which also extends to all of the pages on my tumblr) is me. I so happen to be a comic book store clerk who plays video games competitively, watches anime, didn’t want a career as a photographer anymore, and blogs about their more than ever first world problems. With a dash of puppies here and there. I can’t be JUST a specific blog, nor would I separate them. For one, you are clearly underestimating my laziness. I’m the girl who goes hungry because her cereal box is too far from the bedroom.
If you don’t like comics, okay. Join many others who don’t. I won’t not post comic related things just because its uninteresting to you. Same goes for any other theme. I also won’t stop posting written blogs. Yeah bro, i’m a word lengthy blog with no footnotes or ‘tl;dr’ captions at the bottom. I know, who writes anymore right!? Pfffft.
You can’t expect me to blog everything that you love. That’s what your blog is for, not mine. There will be times where we’ll disagree and not like the same things. It happens, and it’s okay. So for the Debbie Downers in my messages, please stop shouting and knocking the diary out of my hands. As previously stated above, i’m lazy, and i’m getting tired of picking my shit back up.
Sadly, explaining to the cashier at the grocery store that the toothpaste stain on the chest of my shirt isn’t of male origin has not been the most awkward conversation I’ve ever had in my 26 years of existence.
There’s that moment when you’re not freshly single, but not seasoned enough either, where you’re sitting on a crowded bus, reading a comic to help advert your eyes to anywhere other than around you, and you realize without a doubt to yourself, “I really am going to be single for the rest of my life.”
Then as the bus jerks itself to a near death halt and the people around you suddenly start mimicking Domino’s collapsing down on each other, you quickly maneuver yourself around, strategically ducking and side stepping in order to get out since this is your stop, you wrap your scarf around neck, check your phone to see if anybody texted you, which you know nobody didn’t, and make that trek home in utter silence confirming to your brain, “Yep.. we’re going to be single for the rest of our life. Shall we get some ice cream, yeah?”