the traits you most hate in others are the traits you hate about yourself

...and i know this.
any place fucking sucks without someone to share it with. i am grieving how much i fucked up this go-around in seattle- home to so many amazing things, but rendered so depressing by how little i connected with people here. as always, there is much, very much, i could have done differently.
'mad world' is an absolutely fantastic song. the crowded house version is playing. when gary jules' was ubiquitous, i was living very briefly in olympia, springtime, rainy, fluctuating frenetically between the elation of my brief restraining-order-against-the-ex-prompted freedom and a crushing loneliness. this song makes me want to hold someone.
my intolerance for asshat behavior has soured yet another s memory. how can i dig someone who treats me like crap? how, indeed. (i have been repeating myself for the last 15 years.) horrid rebuttals are riccocheting through my head as i walk by myself, because i am hurt. i am fucking hurt again, feeling fucking stupid, feeling shameful for trusting the good moments without remembering the annoying whole. the older people get the more self-absorbed and obliviously caustic they become. and obviously, this bothers me because i am the same fucking way.
moving will not change much. i am seeing it as an excercise in masochism. but i do have friends there. and the hood is pretty cool. and the street is lined with enormous maple trees. and the novelty, however finite, is fucking neccessary.
*
i have been infatuated with fergus henderson since i read him wax florid on a meal that he prepares in his london restaurant St John, a meal that i and my non-meated mouth salivated over: roasted marrow smeared on toast with parsley and capers, purportedly quite the orgasm. the way he speaks and writes makes me want to tear a baby lamb apart with my fucking teeth. said he in something i read today: "your spleen swells when you're in love! how can you resist an organ that does that?"
*
food is love. thus i found myself at the uppity grocer's at 11 on a friday night, buying baba ganouj and goldfish crackers for a most anticipated breakfast, feeling like less of a FUCKING LOSER when i noticed the man behind me ("ladies first!" he'd said gallantly when we were in queue) buying something crackery and something dippy also. i noticed too late. i smiled as i walked to the parking lot, not only at the happy synchronicity with a stranger, but at how i was embodying a classic, perfect example of how effortlessly i piss away every conceivable random opportunity that comes my way.