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magaga
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Birthday: 11/14/1984
Interests: Abandoned Americana, Buildings, Chicago, Driving, Ernest hemingway and other Expatriates, French, France, Food, God, my Honda (named francois), Italy, Junkyards (and found objects), Kites, Love, Mail, the Neo-futurists, Office supplies, Photography, Quidditch, Rocking out, the Sopranos, Travel, U2, Vonnegut (and many others especially William Gibson), Wilco, Xanga, my barbaric Yawp, retro Zoos
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Member Since:
7/25/2003
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| If evan were online right now I would just write this to him, but he isn't. I'm feeling good about everything, the breakup and everything, except for the fact that I called him on Tuesday and he hasn't called me back. This is a bummer. I thought I had a good understanding of what was happening--that is, I thought I understood why we've done what we've done, and that the reasons were good enough and numerous enough that there need be no complication, no second guessing. Really, for the end of a 15 month relationship, it was as clean as it could be. Even I, the dumped, am happy and healthy and functioning and generally being a-ok. And so I called him, because he was my closest friend for 15 months. I like the guy--I love the guy--I liked him before we were a couple and I continue to like him now. When I was in Michigan it was Evan's birthday, so I called and the phone was passed to Daniel. Daniel told me the story of our old landlady summarily executing the geese on the property, the delightfully fiendish geese that made my life a lot more interesting my senior year of college. Anyway, the geese have, appropriately, been shot. He would like this story, and the story is what made me call him--I wanted to call my friend, the guy who knew about the geese, and give him the news. I'll admit that I also wanted to tell him how well I'm doing, and to check with him. The last time he saw me I was sobbing and walking away from him down the smelly, dull-carpeted hallway of his apartment building. No, I take that back. The last time he saw me was when he looked from his window at me hyperventilating on the sidewalk in front of his house. For all he knows, I'm still hyperventilating, sobbing. But I'm not! And I want to talk to him. I acknowledge that talking could well result in further hyperventilation, but I don't think so. This is a good thing, I know that. I regret nothing, not that we were together, not that it ended. We could have stayed together, gotten married, had babies--but he didn't want me to marry him, didn't want me to have his babies; that is a very simple equation, elementary enough even for my addled girl-brian to understand. I'm happy to be free in many ways. But I wish I could talk to my old friend. | | |
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| Yeah, xanga is dumb. From now on, please find my blog at http://maggieobrien.blogspot.com I will try to be better with updating and posting photos. | | |
| I got my camera cord!
But the xanga photo pages aren't working!!! I can't catch a break. Here are some pictures from facebook:
I think this page will soon move to Blogger. I will keep you posted. | | |
| I really need to stop looking at grad school websites, it is not productive and makes me want to take to my bed. Also my space bar has started squeaking. | | |
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