Eyeballs, Dryballs...Jolene Needs to Tone it Down

Again, Ray LaMontagne is an unrivaled talent. So is Zac Brown Band. If I took anything enriching from this last relationship, it is a love for the song Jolene...that and maybe an unhealthy taste for hops. Hardly enriching but definitely enjoyable. Thank you Ex #4. I probably shouldn't be numbering them. I've only had 4 over the last 10 years, and only two years off total in between. That means I've averaged two years per boyfriend. Pretty solid stat if you ask me.

Longevity: pro or con? I think it's a con. It just means time was wasted that you could've been living life......Ouch......That thought shouldn't have manifested itself digitally for the very same reason I shouldn't refer to my past relationships in the numeric sense. I change my mind, none of it was time wasted. They all gave me something lovely....with the exception of Ex #1. He was a real shit. Ex #2 gave me faith in the existence of good men. #3 gave me his heart. All of it. And #4 gave me a special experience I won't forget. Ever.

Heartbeats...they're more than a living flutter. Heartbeats become souls. I think souls are alive somehow. Living, tangible things. Maybe souls are the 21 grams we lose, maybe not. We'll never know. But I hope so.

I admit I've felt like a self-destructive Ray now and again...2010 being no exception. I've seen and experienced a few things during my almost 3 decades that are darker than most people raised in a good environment. But I am more of the Jolene persuasion than the Ray persuasion.

Everyone has their sad sad sob story. It's just my nature to stay in control, keep composed and avoid the great big tragic saga that is Ray. Tragedy is beautiful and I can see why so many fall into the trap of being a pitiful, beautiful wreck. I spent a 5 month period indulging myself that way earlier this year. Shamefully. I doubt that being the mascara monster I was, I exemplified the "beautiful" part of a pitiful wreck, but nonetheless, a wreck is what I was. I'm not one of those people naturally, it was just a cumulative effect of semantics I think. Maybe self-imposed and maybe not. I can't be bothered to analyze it more than I already have done. All I know is I owe my best friends an apology of Titanic proportions. They supported me and I disappeared without so much as a "thanks for for helping me, oh, not commit suicide."

My great weakness may just be that I run away from things at times, rather than stare them in the face and overcome them. That's how I got here in Australia. I've done this I think to mitigate the expense of emotion required to deal with the lows in life. What I've realized is that I can face any adversity, beat it and do so with strength and dignity. You don't need to melt down.

Unfortunately my eyeballs have dried out it seems permanently. It feels like I have wooden marbles rolling around in my head. No amount of water will make them return to their normal state of hydration. This didn't occur from crying - I haven't really even cried - but literally it came about from dehydrating myself by undertaking behavioral habits that are far from being good for me on a health level. Yet another Sunday was spent out on my Australian town, until around 2am when I decided it was an acceptable hour to return home and immediately fall asleep. Sleep keeps you from thinking. Thinking gives you time to acknowledge things that you don't really need to break down and analyze, because they don't matter in the end. Just being happy, fair, honest, living and not hurting anyone intentionally while you're living is really what matters.

I've put 24 new names in my phone over the last three weeks. Just counted. Four of those have faces I don't remember though. I am a friend-making MACHINE and averaging about 4 texts a day from new friends asking me to meet up and fill their awesome cup. Another solid stat. Breaking up his hard to do but it definitely has its upside. Pre-2010 Carrie is returning in full effect. All my old go-to stories are re-surfacing out of the haze. The dry wit and silly banter is slowly creeping back into my social repertoire. Blair and Erin would be so proud that I've been honing my networking skills to such a degree that I'm more criminally friend-hungry than even the seasoned professional friend makers Blair and Erin tend to be at even the most molecular level. They're genetically prone to savagely recruiting people and trapping them in their overpowering friendship web of happiness. If they could just see how goddamn charming and magnetic I've become, they would likely assume I time traveled back to Single Summer 2005 and swapped places with Manhattan Beach Carrie. She was pretty awesome, if I do say so. Erica would probably say she was manipulative and abrasive, but fun nonetheless.

I think the real highlight from these last three weeks being single occurred yesterday at a fine place in town, when Hercules himself asked me for my number.....while I was wearing a cut off t-shirt with a toddler smoking a cigarette on the front of it. Not exactly the most wholesome T, but Apollo the Sun God seemed to like it. No kidding, the guy probably descended out of the heavens on a fiery chariot clothed in Rumpelstiltskin-spun gold, with Cupid on one shoulder trumpeting his arrival to this temporal wasteland, and an eagle on his head dropping bon-bons that make you tall and ripped into his godly mouth.

I'm sort of regretting giving him the wrong number. What the hell was I thinking? Oh yeah, I almost forgot. This is the first time I've been single in 5 years, so maybe another boyfriend ASAP isn't such a glorious idea. Oh well, no big deal, it'll just make him like me more a few months down the road when he passes me on the street and realizes I'm the first chick crazy enough to give him the wrong number. Bingo. Totally salvageable situation.

Steady as Jolene goes....

I should go to church. No I shouldn't. Sundays are too beautiful here to spend them in church. Besides, I can have some God time sitting on a beach. Don't tell my mom that though. I will tell her that myself when the time comes. For now I'm just going to live out of my suitcase, work hard, learn to play the guitar, surf, continue to meet people who will add to my life.....and speak German. I think that's probably what Jolene would do too.