RivetChic

To Whom it May Concern: An Autobiography
2001-11-25 08:11:13 (UTC)

Search for yesterday

12 Nov 2001

Work was slow. Sales sucked. By March I was afraid I would be
fired. By april someone else was and I took over her territory. I
traveled to Seattle, Portland, Chicago, Minneapolis, Las Vegas,
Vancouver, Toronto, Montreal... I made friends in each city. But I
never made friends in LA.

I thought more and more about Alex. He and I had such an amazing
friendship. He was such an amazing person. I connected with him in
a way that I couldn't seem to connect with anyone else. I kept
wondering if it was because of me.. Maybe I was so jaded that I
didn't like anyone. Or maybe it was true that no one I met was the
kind of friend I was looking for.

I really didn't have too much time to think about it though, jet
setting from city to city, working 9-6 when I wasn't, trying to
squeeze laundry and groceries somehow into my schedule. I started
becoming like the zombies I hated. The ones that never thought,
never questioned... just existed. I was just trying to survive. But
I forgot how to really live.

I always thought the most important part of life was to
always learn... to always search for something new, to
understand everything.. an unending goal, unacheivable,
something to work towards until the day I died. It gave me
passion for life.

Something happened.

I lost this passion, and quest for knowledge. It wasn't a
conscious decision. And I've been chasing after this
passion since. Where did it go? What happened, that I
lost my passion for life? I remember feeling jaded.

jad·ed
adj.
1.Worn out; wearied.
2.Dulled by surfeit; sated.
3.Cynically or pretentiously callous.

All three definitions apply. Working the rat race leaves
me worn out, wearied. I feel sated... I have everything I
want, but debt to go along with it. In fact, I work doing
what I love, so I feel desensitized. The fashion that was
so interesting to me before is now something I eat, sleep
and breathe, so it's no longer interesting. I am cynically
callous- I am too cynical to make friends... believing when
I meet someone that they too will have some horrible flaw
that will disqualify them. I'm an asshole.

So what started all of this? I had dreams- to finish
college, to study abroad. When I acheived these, they
turned out to be different than I dreamed. Typical, I
guess, but working 4 years for a degree in French, and then
hating France probably didn't do much for my attitude. It
wasn't even so mcuh that I hated France. It was more that
the French hated me. That is another story.

Maybe it was dreaming of returning to LA, my promised
land. Its always difficult to return to a place. If you are
arriving for the first time, you have no expectations, or
preconceived notions. But returning somewhere, you inevitably want
it to be similar to how it was before, or you are afraid it will be
how it was before. Those are your two choices.

In this case, I wanted it to be like it was before. The best year of
my life I spent out here in LA, working as a model, clubbing, making
friends... kind of being popular. I had a fresh start back then and
it worked for me.

This time was more difficult. My old friends were too busy to hang
out with me. Rumours flew about me, and about how I was before I
moved, or since I got back. Some of it was started by my ex-
boyfriends girlfriend who was insecure about me being back in town...
even though she should know that I have no interest in him. I think
she still hates me, even though I've been dating someone else for
over a year. Other rumours flew, guys that were pissed I wasn't
interested in them, people who were jealous or felt threatened by me
in some way. It really gave me a negative attitude about people.
I'm a nice person. I'm a little forward, and frank, but beyond that,
I'm very loyal and honest. I think those are good attributes to find
in a friend. I decided, rather than dispell these rumours and
prejudices I was running into, to just be quiet.

Now, a year later, I'm just coming out of it. Everyone I talk to is
shocked at how nice I am, and how different I am from what they
heard. It really caused problems though... because everyone thought
I was a bitch, so I never acted friendly. It really created a
vicious cycle. I don't think I was ever really acting like a bitch,
I just wasn't going out of my way to say hi to people, or acting like
anyones best friend after meeting them once.

Anyway, I'm totally still battling this. I feel really resentful
towards all of these people who hate me for no reason.. But I am
lonely. So now I'm stuck either staying lonely, or being friends
with people who are really into drama... Which it seems like everyone
out here is. That's really not true. I have friends who aren't into
drama.. they just never leave their homes, and therefore never hang
out with me... so they don't cure the loneliness.

Also, I thought I would be able to enjoy all the stuff I used to
enjoy out here.. Shopping, clubs, restaurants, beaches, mountains,
friends, conversations- but all I do is work!! I have more of a
chance to enjoy these things while I'm traveling for work.. but they
seem fleeting. I could have an excellent conversation while I'm in
Seattle, then get on a plane, and either not see the person again for
4 months, if I ever even see them again.

So in writing this, I'm realizing that I'm not making any sense, and
that I'm contradicting myself. But that's why I write this. I say I
don't appreciate what I have, but then I say I don't have what I
want.. Which is it?!! I feel generally dissatisfied with my life..
I'd like friends, good conversations, good nite clubs, money.. I
already have some things to be grateful for, but I take them for
granted.. Roof over my head, car to drive to work, great wardrobe,
good job.. But I take these for granted. The only thing I never
take for granted is my boyfriend. Sometimes he's the only thing that
can make me happy.

I guess I'm starving spiritually. I need passion, opinions,
disputes, religion, philosophy... friendships. I have everything I
need and more in the material realm. In fact, I need to stop trying
to please myself with expensive objects. I run myself into debt
trying to buy my happiness when really I just need someone with a
brain and an opinion, and a little passion to talk to. Sad, huh?

I have a hard time relating to people anyway. They make me feel old
because they work retail, or are still in college, or never went. I
don't know what to talk to them about. I hear people talk
incessantly about drugs, alcohol, drama, depression- and I'm bored
and disgusted. What about music, literature, philosophy, love,
religion? Why don't they care? Why don't they think?

Now I'm slowly becoming the same. I'm not thinking so much about
these things, because no one around me does, and I have no
stimulation. I'm becoming one of them. I notice the change
happening, and don't know how to stop it.

Hopefully I'll find a way.




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