Tag Archive: emotions


I don’t know how to reach you.

I don’t know how to be there for you. I don’t know what to say or how to talk to you.

I know that you’re going through something and that nothing I say or do will make it hurt less.

You’re my best friend and I love you. I love you beyond words and it hurts me that I can’t help you.

Because you’re hurting, I let the fact that you hurt my feelings go.  I didn’t tell you that it hurts me when you don’t tell me these things. I didn’t tell you that I can still hear your voice in my head, replaying that time you told me I’m not good at feelings and that I’m the last person on earth with whom anyone should talk about emotions. I didn’t tell you that hearing about what happened after the fact, after you had already spilled your heart to the other leg of the Tripod, as you do every single time you have any real emotions, I felt sad and left-out.

I don’t tell you these things because, this time, it’s not about me.

You were there for me when I needed you. When I cried countless times because my heart hurt over the complete deterioration of the friendship I had with my so-called best friend, you were there. Even when I repeated myself and when you couldn’t understand how I could be feeling the way I was, you listened. You listened, and you cared, and you showed up when I needed you.

I’m so sorry that you feel I haven’t done the same for you.

I wish you’d talk to me and stop shutting me out.  I wish things didn’t feel so weird. I don’t understand what happened or even how to make it better.

I don’t know what to say.

Sometimes people just need space. Sometimes it just takes time to sort through all of those thoughts and feelings. That’s what I thought I was doing, giving you time and space to feel sad and mend your broken heart.  But it’s been a few days now and I haven’t heard anything and we haven’t talked.  I don’t like how we left things.

I don’t know how to make this better. You know I’m no good with confrontation, not when it’s something like this.  Not when it feels like there’s something as awesome as the Tripod at stake.  Things feel fragile and I can’t see where to step to make a move.

For once, I feel like I don’t know you. I feel like I don’t know how to read you. You feel so far away. I can’t figure out what you’re thinking or try to guess how you’d respond to any of the actions I have almost made.

I just miss you is all. I want things to go back to normal, and I want you to talk to me. I want to be there for you. I want you to tell me that you’re hurting but that our friendship matters.

I don’t know how to reach you.

My emotions are all over the place lately.

I mean, it’s a well known fact that I cry at the drop of a hat, but it’s getting a little crazy.

I think the looming end of Harry Potter is to blame. Honestly.

For the past few months, I have been listening to the Harry Potter audiobooks from the very beginning of the series. I am finally a little over half-way through the seventh book, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, but it’s been a long road.  I’m just so invested in them and I’m going to be really sad once the last movie comes out and ends it all. I know that the books and movies will live on, but for the past ten years, it’s like I have had either a book or a movie to look forward to. It’s all just going to be over.

(Oh hey, Melodramatic-Katie. I didn’t know you were going to be here today!)

The thing is… since I’ve been breathing Harry Potter for the past few months, my mind is pretty much saturated with Harry Potter information. I use Harry Potter references in my everyday conversations. I’m not mad about this at all, but I think it concerns others, or just leaves them feeling confused. (And I really wouldn’t consider this an unhealthy addiction or obsession or anything, seriously.  I mean, I know someone who is inappropriately obsessed with something of late and I am nowhere near her level of insanity. I just wanted to make that clear… lol.)

Back to my emotions… I promise all of this is relevant.

I do, however, want to preface this example of out-of-control emotions with the fact that I happened to be intoxicated when this event occurred and that this might not count.  So, a few weeks ago, my brother and I had some people over to his house to hang out (and then The Tripod left to go to the bars- you know how we do.) and get crazy. Right before we left, I’m actually not sure what triggered this but whatever, we ended up shouting curses and jinxes at each other. Like, we were having our very own wizard’s duel.  It started between the two other legs of the tripod and myself but then Drew got involved.  Right when I was about to shout Expelliarmus at him, he hurled Aveda Kedavra at me.  It was at that moment that I burst into tears and the duel ended.

Megan stared at us in incredulity while Seneca watched in awe as Drew quickly showed remorse for yelling the Killing Curse my way.  He wrapped me in a hug and told me that he didn’t mean it and that he loved me.  It got serious.  I had immediately told him that it wasn’t nice to kill me and that I would absolutely die if anything ever happened to him and that he should never use that curse, ever.

It was ridiculous, to say the very least. But, every time I think about it, I laugh. It’s funny and cute and kind of a heartwarming moment between him and me.

A couple weeks ago, I was driving home from work and it happened to coincide with the time (Oh Em Gee, Spoiler Alert) Dumbledore dies near the end of HP6, Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince.  It also happened to be after a particularly long day of work when I was still very sick and I was exhausted.  So, naturally, when JKR begins her description of the grief expressed by all of the characters in the book, I began to weep as well. Once it started, I couldn’t stop.  I was bawling my eyes out the entire forty-five minutes it takes for me to get home from work.  By the time I got home, my face was red and puffy, I no longer had any eye makeup on, and I was doing that weird hiccup-breathing from the heaving sobs that had flowed out of me.

And just yesterday, I was driving home from work when (SPOILER ALERT) Dobby died.  I sob uncontrollably when I watch the movie (EVERY SINGLE TIME), so it’s no surprise that the book brought me to tears.  The grief Harry experiences, the burial, the words Luna says on his behalf… I just think all of it is so precious and heartbreaking.  Dobby was so pure of heart and an innocent, and the loss of his life is a travesty. Bellatrix Lestrange sucks, and I hate her.

It just seems like I’m always in my car when I’m having these emotional events.

This has got to stop! Except, I never want it to because that would require me to not listen to Harry Potter in my car, and I just don’t want to stop doing that. It makes my commute enjoyable.

Anyway, I guess my point is that I never would have guessed I would have gotten so involved in the series when I first picked up Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone.  Not in a million years.  Even upon seeing the first film, I never thought I would feel such an affinity towards these characters and this world J.K. Rowling created. I just don’t know what I’ll do when it’s all over. Maybe once it’s over I won’t be so weepy about all things Harry Potter. Probably not, though.

Does anyone else feel this way about Harry Potter?! I know I can’t be alone in this.

I always joke about rage blackouts, but tonight I am fairly certain I actually experienced one.

I have never felt so filled with rage before. I literally was at a loss. I didn’t know what to do to with all of it.  I didn’t know how to express it. I was so angry, and I felt the rage pulling me in so many directions I didn’t know what to do.  It was such a peculiar feeling. I was in control but completely out of control at the same time.

I didn’t scream. I didn’t cry. I didn’t yell or shout or call the witness to this blackout names.  I wasn’t shaking and my body heat didn’t feel anything too far from normal.  I couldn’t even hear my pulse racing in my ears. Looking at me, I don’t think I would have appeared as anything other than normal.

Inside, my mind was raging.  I could feel myself losing it.  I experienced an almost out-of-body sense of calm when all I wanted to do was have some sort of grand reaction. No reaction was making it even worse.

I’m coming down now, although I don’t want to speak to anyone. I want to be left alone. Even after coming home, slamming a couple doors (yes, thanks for asking, I am a child), flopping onto my bed and screaming into my pillow, I still feel weird.  My whole body was shaking as I screamed into my pillow, and stubborn, angry tears escaped from my eyes. After a handful of the most intense and angry screaming I can ever remember doing, I knew I was done.  I was breathing hard, but it was shallow and not satisfying like it is after a good, hard workout.  What’s more is that I don’t think I’ve ever screamed into my pillow before in my life.  In 23 years of existence, not once.  And today, I apparently tried something new.

My throat hurts, my body feels exhausted and my head feels slightly like it does when I laugh too hard and the pain won’t go away.

I can’t even talk about what made me so angry, partly because it is so, so stupid and partly because I honestly feel like I might not even know the exact reason I got so upset.

All I know is that I never want to feel like that again.

(I also will not refrain from making inappropriate anger management jokes referencing both Charlie Sheen and Chris Brown, because that would be in poor taste. And I’m too classy for that.)

pretty much, yeah.....

We here are all fairly familiar with crazy.

I know this to be true because when you stop by Adventures from Grandma’s Attic (which, incidentally, is no longer really applicable as a title… hm, I should remedy that….) you get regular doses of crazy from this girl. You get to read all about my tendency to talk to animals, how I get overly emotional on a whim at seriously random shit, the irrational fears I possess, my paranoia about death, the blunders I have had in the kitchen, and various other bouts of crazy.

This kind of crazy is totally okay with me. I even like it.  I’m quite fond of my brand of crazy.

I’ll even be fair and say that Britney Spears’ brand of crazy, while scary and unfortunate (lest we forget the shaving of the head, the attacking of that SUV with an umbrella, and the weird “friendship” with Sam Lufti), didn’t even deter me from being a fan.

I’m an equal-opportunity fan of crazy.

The brand of crazy I’m not okay with? Tom Cruise.

Sell crazy someplace else, we're all stocked up here!




Dude, something about that couch-jumping incident just turned me off. Scientology also kinda freaks me out. I don’t know too much about it, but it seems a little cult-ish. Also, who the fuck divorces Nicole Kidman?! Back in the day, when she wasn’t addicted to Botox, she was going places and she was gorgeous. You don’t just bail on that. Unless you’re an insecure prick… Just sayin’.

With all this said, you might be surprised to know that it seems that I have come down with a case of the I-Heart-Tom-Cruise-Movies-And-Can’t-Seem-To-Get-Enough’s.

It started out innocently enough.

A few weeks ago, we bought Knight & Day on Blu-Ray. It had just been released and I was planning on staying in one Saturday night (story of my life!).

That same day, we bought Jerry Maguire on Blu-Ray because we didn’t own it.

Last weekend, I watched Top Gun for the first time.

Uhm, hello, why did NO ONE tell me Goose dies?! I HAD NO IDEA!! It was the kind of devastation I faced when I saw Up Close & Personal for the first time when I found out that Robert Redford’s character died and Michelle Pfeiffer was devastated. Oh. Em. Gee. It’s just heartbreaking. If you haven’t seen it, I apologize for ruining the movie for you, but you simply must see it. You’ll love it. I know it!

Anyway, yeah. Goose. Shit, that was sad! I really thought that it was just a love story that made Take my Breath Away really popular. I didn’t know it was an epic bromance movie too! Oh, be still my beating heart, I love bromances! They’re precious.

That brings us to today: I bought A Few Good Men from Target for $5. I love $5 movies. And A Few Good Men is a great fucking movie. I watched it the second I got home today.

And now, because I ate way too much cookie dough when I made chocolate chip cookies this afternoon, and I consumed a great amount of chocolate, I just have the need to watch Jerry Maguire.

Pretty soon I’m gonna have to go buy Rain Man, because that’s a great movie too. And Risky Business because I haven’t’ seen that and now’s as good a time as any.

It would seem that I’m a Tom Cruise fan. Officially. And there’s really not a whole lot I can do about it. It just happened.

But I’d just like to reiterate: he freaks me out.

Do you believe in magic!?

Magicians are Douche Bags.

With that said, I will tell you that last night I watched a hypnotist perform. And I liked it.

There were many reasons why I didn’t voluntarily attend last night’s Student Life event at my school. Those reasons include, but are not limited to, I’m not 18 years old and/or a freshman, I am not a joiner, I don’t attend social events alone (if I can help it), I skipped school-sanctioned “welcome week” activities to go get drunk with my friends when I was a freshman in college, I don’t live “on-campus,” yada, yada, yada.  I do, however, have a mother who is the VP of Student Services, which includes Student Life, so she had to make an appearance at one of her own events. I happened to be out to dinner last night with Mother and was tricked into attending this school-sanctioned community-building welcome-week activity. One Car. Tricky bitch.

When we arrived, I sensed crickets. There were, like, five people there. All employees. My mom also really enjoys introducing me to people she works with and the students she interacts with, so I get to shake a lot of hands and say “it’s great to meet you!” a million and a half times.

Michael C. Anthony. Magician/Hypnotist/Douche Bag.

So, we walked a little further into the building to another clump of people, including a couple familiar faces. This clump of people were entranced by a tall, dark-haired man wearing too-tight jeans and a ridiculous button-up shirt. He had a deck of cards in his hands and was talking with a lot of inflection in his voice. I immediately bristled. Magician, I thought. Douche Bag.

He did another trick for the group because we had walked up. He had new audience members. Why the hell not?! So, he did another card trick and I wanted to hate him, I did, but, DUDE, it was like MAGIC! I don’t understand how that works?!!?! And then he totally showed us how the trick worked. It includes fancy “shuffling” and deception I’m incapable of performing because I’m just not lame enough to “practice” card tricks. So then he fiddled around with his iPhone, showing us this app he “invented” and how it goes along with that silly card trick.

For a moment, I may have been entertained (and even impressed) but once I learned his secret, I went back to This guy’s a douche bag in too-tight jeans. And I was a little pissed, ’cause for a moment, juuuuust for a second, I believed it was real. And when it turned out to be a lie, it made me think that magic really isn’t real, which made me think that Harry Potter isn’t really real, and that made me sad.

Anyway, so then he got whisked away to “backstage” and we went and talked to more people and then sat down to watch this guy. I was skeptical. And excited. He came out a did another card trick, and I was like Mom, if this is all he’s gonna do, we need to GTFO. But thennnnn, he called like 30 kids on stage and started to “hypnotize” them. At first, it was lame and I didn’t believe it.

It wasn’t until he had these kids stretching out all over the place (pushing each other off the chairs, dropping to the floor, laying down on the floor, snuggling up to one another) that I believed he may be doing something awesome. He managed to make these kids do really crazy shit- hilarious crazy shit.  He convinced one kid his name was Cha-Cha, and when he pronounced it wrong, Cha-Cha got pissed. Cha Cha also fell in love with and danced with a broom because he told him it was the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen.  It was hilarious. He made another guy howl like a werewolf. He made one girl launch her body across groups of people at the word “safety” so she could pretend to be a human seatbealt. He created one awesome “dance party” and made them all think they were on the beach and it was, like, 1000 degrees. They started taking their clothes off and everything. Bahaha He convinced them that one guy’s belt was a snake. Oh em gee, I was DYING laughing.

So maybe this guy is legit. Maybe he can actually hypnotize people. I still think he’s probably a douche bag because he reminded me of  this guy:

Mystery, from VH1's tacky old show "The Pick-Up Artist" He is SICK.

I hate all of that. The show was sick. The guys on that show were sick. And the fact that women actually …. acknowledge their existence upsets me.

For one of my COM classes in college, we had to read pop culture relationship books and apply communication theories to the behaviors exhibited. I had to read THIS BOOK. I made it halfway through, and that was only because I read it in the airport, on the plane and sitting by the pool in Vegas during spring break senior year of college. I was embarrassed. It offends reason, and it certainly offended me. These men are clearly delusional and emotionally stunted. Not to mention they think women are sub-humans and completely demean them every chance they get. I assume it’s because they hate themselves so much, and they blame their mothers for not loving them, or some bullshit.

Regardless, the hypnotist I watched last night probably knows the douche bags from that VH1 show and from the book I had to read.  And his jeans were seriously wayyyy too tight. Even though he did a good job, I still stand by my original statement.

Magicians are douche bags.