I have the same realizations repeatedly, which I guess means they aren't really realizations, but every single time it's shocking and painful. In five or so minutes I will forget these things and continue on in my happy, somewhat oblivious state.

My stomach does not like it when I drink 2 and 1/2 liters of beer. My mouth however, likes to talk a lot and it's all sort of nonsense. My eyes like to cry. Uggghhhh.

Last night:
Drank wine in the hostel.
Rode the train with a really drunk girl crying 'Mamaaaaaa ich weiss nicht maaammaaaaaaa.' The boy she was with assured her that he had indeed called her mother.
Looked around for somewhere to drink. Found a place called 'Erotische Drinks.'
Bought a two liter zombie with lots of giant straws. Pictures coming later.

Today:
Dirndl buying!

I am going to Munich this weekend to buy a dirndl. I will soon have many boyfriends. 

Here's a section of an essay I wrote about flash fiction that I like a lot and usually forget is an essay. Maybe if I post more writing I will write more: 

A.    How to write again

All your future prospects tell you they don’t want you and your boyfriend breaks up with you. When he breaks up with you, you are drunk. Tell him everything you ever wanted to say to him. He wipes off the eyeliner that is dripping down your face and pulls up your dress, which is falling down. You wonder why he is doing this. Why people do nice things to people they don’t care about. He makes the claim, “I really cared about you.” Make him walk you to a friend’s apartment so you don’t have to spend the night alone. Wake up at 6:30 in the morning with the worst hangover you’ve had in months. Walk home. Spend all the other nights alone. Spend the next few weeks thinking about new things that you want to say to him.

B.     How to mourn

Write a lot of stories about people that you cared about. Realize that relationships are like that, those little moments. Try to picture things as a whole and realize that you can’t, that everyone appears in small fragments of things that were said. Consider whether this is because most of your past two relationships were spent drunk. Write about the relationships of your friends. Become surprised to find that they can be summed up almost entirely in a few sentences. Think about life like a dictionary. We are defining things. This is why you don’t like plot: yours always end up open ended. A debate about what, “I really cared about you” means.

C.     How to stick things together

Find a female writer. Realize you find female writer’s much easier to be around because they are attractive in a different way. Write together over coffee. While both of your lives are functioning you write about nature and the state of politics. You both become rattled at the same time and you start writing things about love. She asks you how to cover up a hickey, but you don’t know because you’ve never tried to cover them up before. Sometimes you experiment with plot, but neither of you are sure how to make one. The characters are the two of you, stuck together, and you marvel how it comes out as one of you.  You refer to everything you write as a prose poem. Eventually you give up on the idea of narration. Together you worry about the future where you will continue drinking coffee with other female writers. 

A couple weeks ago (or Tuesday, I can't remember) on the bus I kept thinking to myself:

You think you're really cool don't you, sitting in the back of the bus in Upper Austria in your miniskirt and purple tights, listening to hip hop and riding to see your friends in Linz.

I responded to myself:

Yeah, I actually feel pretty cool right now.

A couple nights ago I was lying in bed thinking about how when I was little I used to play the Little Mermaid and wonder if I would be pretty like Ariel when I grew up.

Spent the entire bus ride home yesterday thinking about how I like riding on buses and trains by myself and how I like myself more when I am traveling.

Then I got tired and hungry and just wanted to be back.

It must feel really bad to be a bear and wake up from hibernation. You would be so hungry and so disoriented. What if all the other bears went to eat without you? This is how I feel pretty much every time I wake up from a nap ever.

I got my kindle.

Ate my first mango of the new year.

Took a long nap.

That was today.

My favorite scene in Underworld so far was the scene with Marian and her lover. All the stuff about bombs and the World Trade Towers and I like the scene in the studio apartment where two people have unhappy sex.

An interesting fact about the morning is that it has no syllables.

Stayed out to sometime between 4-5 in the morning. Very hungover. Want to sleep forever.

I watched a movie about WWII last night and people kept talking about Linz and I kept thinking "I am going there tomorrow."

I miss boys.
We talk and I don't say that I miss you.
I say, "I need to get ready for work. Okay, go do something else. That's fine."
Except I miss you. Let's talk. You can hit on me and I can pretend that I don't like it.

I'm being really cool and sitting in Mcdonald's and drinking tea on a Friday night. At what point do I stop getting self conscious about how much of a social life I have?

The teacher room is filled with teachers and there is nowhere for me to sit and it's really awkward so I'm pretending to be really busy, which is actually me checking Katie's blog, figuring out what my new zodiac sign is, which is really ludacris, because I am totally a pisces and not an aqaurius and now writing this blog post about nothing (but they are all about nothing aren't they?). I think I'm going to try and go for a run today as a lot of the ice has melted. The try part is the fact that I haven't even attempted to run since September. I'm starting to get compulsive and crazy about eating healthy except for the fact that I recently recieved a large package of cookies. I have gotten too adjusted to being by myself all the time. Doing things on the weekend sounds really difficult. I will however attend the 'We are still so fucking rich party' in Linz to celebrate pay day. Hopefully it will be fun.

The Alpha Sigma Alpha wigwam.

I'm in Mcdonald's and cannot stop laughing about this concept. It's sort of embarrassing.

Apparently I've been elusive all week. And I thought people were ignoring me.

I feel much better today. I took a long nap. I worked on my puzzle. I drank tea and ate toffee. Now I am at Mcdo's drinking more tea and lesson planning. 

I keep thinking I have high self-esteem, but I think I’m confusing words. I’ve been doing that a lot lately. I can’t speak German or English (today the guy at the electronics store said my German keeps getting better and I laughed and said no). I don’t really though. I think I’m attractive. I think I can attract people when I want to attract people. I like myself. I like the things I like. But sometimes when I’ve been alone for awhile (like really alone, not single, alone in my apartment or alone on the streets) and I’ve been alone since Saturday in Freistadt, I start thinking a lot and it always turns into lists of people that I want to talk to that I no longer talk to. It turns into an issue of caring. I know that soon I will just go to sleep and I will wake up in the morning and I will be fine and it won’t matter and the why of it almost doesn’t matter anymore and not all of them have been boyfriends or whatever, but all of them are boys, even boys I didn’t like in that manner. I want to sit across the table from someone (I want to say anyone, but there’s a list of people it could be) and just have a conversation. I just start to feel distant and bodiless. I start counting hours.