Shit Comes in Threes

posted 24th September 2009    Written by: Marisa    CATEGORY: All Posts, Job/Career/Work, Marisa, Quarterlife Crisis, Season 1

mac-russian-red_300I make music playlists to document my life and how I feel at that time.  It started last summer when I made mixed CDs for some birthdays and play ists for some of the shows that I wanted to remember always. I sigh every time I heard them.

I have a new playlist for these two past weeks:  Shit. Shit. Shit.

A lot of things started to happen at once.  And not really any positive or fantastical events took place.  Things kind of imploded.

My unemployment insurance ended. Yup, the recent funemployment gravy train ran dry for a couple of days.  Yet thankfully and most wonderfully so (thanks Obama!), there’s a federal extension given to people now.  However, the road to this qualification was scary.  I had to wait for a certain letter, on a certain day to then file again with even more info/paperwork to see if funemployment Marisa could continue life in Portland.

And I didn’t want to go “there”.

By “there”, I mean the “there” where I imagine moving back in with my Mother, moving back to Reno and moving back into a craptastic time where high school never ends and people don’t grow. *shudder.

And to continue with the lovely theme of shit, shit, shit here, I met a boy. Shit, I know.

He kind of threw a wrench into everything.  We first met a couple of months ago through friends and after having an awesome meeting where I felt we clicked, he didn’t ask for my number.  This was okay at the time; I wasn’t too concerned since I only met him once, but out of nowhere he came to the Lost Gospel show just to see me.  He even got my digits.

So we’ve been hanging out since then (and here comes the shit part), he just won’t touch me.  No holding of hands, no light touches with the arms and playful flirting, and no kisses.  I’ve even initiated and was somewhat awkwardly rejected, yet he still wants to go out for romantical dinners and pry into my life.  He still wants to spend time with me he says.  I’m utterly confused.

And of course things come in threes-my most recent opportunity to become part of a band and record has dissolved. Long story short, one of my friends had the opportunity to move and play with a pretty amazing band in NYC (which is total yay! but still…), so that’s that.

Positivity, rationality, where are you guys? I had to search & have some faith, but here’s my bounce back from the bad threes.  1.  Signed, sealed and delivered, I received my extension-whew! 2.  I’m going to get real with this guy and lay it out, want to be with me? Yes or No. And 3.  I may not be recording anything right now, but it was a huge step for me to bypass every traditional fiber in my body and accept that, yes, I do want to be in a band and succeed.

Good!  Now to make a new playlist for the upcoming weeks…

I think I’ll title it Russian Red.  It’s the new lipstick I bought from MAC.  I’m going Russian Red all this week and next.  MFNW is next week and not only is the music aplenty, so are the beautiful boys.  Le sigh.  Russian Red it is.

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Comments (2)

2 Responses to “Shit Comes in Threes”

  • Gwen Bell Says:
    September 24th, 2009 at 10:35 am

    Marisa, we need to have coffee sometime. That is all.

  • Marisa Says:
    September 24th, 2009 at 11:03 am

    Totes Gwen. Do you visit Portland often?

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