Songs from the Sways of the Storyteller

The Avett Brothers came to my town last night.

Amidst the brightly colored spotlights, the "I love yous" and the sing alongs, and the two gangly, bearded men skipping and jumping around on stage like there was no tomorrow, a sea of the wretched rocked back and forth to the beat.

The heartbroken,

The cold-footed,

The lost,

The hopeless,

And me.

At some point, I thought about how neat it would be if they got everyone to sway in sync. I figured it would be like an ocean reaching up the shore.

And then I realized that didn't need to happen.

There's something special about the sways of the heartbroken, and the cold-footed, the lost, and hopeless. With each shift of weight, they tell a story.

The stories of their failures, and disappointments, and the bad news bearers and the depressed.

The Avett Brothers' carry this, too. Each word written with their own personal endowment. It screams with their pain, jumps with their struggles, and whispers with their success.

I, too, sway to the beat of the kickdrum. 

The death of my great-aunt.

And the death of Paprika and Blanchard.

The diagnosis of Mister's health.

The woman who killed herself in the cemetery outside my house.

Watching a horse break her leg and be put down.

My break-up.

Losing the connection between me and my best friend.

My diagnosis with depression.

And the affects of it before and after.

And every battle in between.

I, too, sway to the beat of the kickdrum.

Left, right, and back again.

Diagnosis

So, uh, I was diagnosed with depression the other day.

I had my suspicions, but it's kind of strange to actually be diagnosed with something. And I guess I'm still kind of weirded out by that?

That being said, I'm really lonely? That's an issue, I guess. I don't talk to anyone anymore. I don't have friends that I can call up at 3am when I'm having a hard time. It's just me vs the world now. And it's really terrifying. Part of me resents the people who stopped talking to me and moved on, part of me doesn't blame them.

So to the people who just sort of abandoned me, screw you I guess? Also good for you, because I must have done something really terrible for you to just leave me behind like an unwanted puppy. Yeah, I'm comparing me to a puppy. I may not blame you for leaving me, but I'm sure going to shame you about it. You puppy-leaver. I'll call the ASPCA on you. That stands for Ava's Sad, Pathetic, and Crying Association. It's an organization that gives me a firm pat on the back when people like you stop talking to me and find new people. You are the reason the organization exists, you puppy-leaver. I'm just a defenseless animal that just wanted to make you happy, and you left me in a moist cardboard box and got a fish instead, because they're easier and cheaper.

Jokes on you, fish die REALLY FREAKIN EASY. They just die! That fish you replaced me with? That schmuck is gonna go belly-up here soon.
And you can't show a fish off to your friends. "Hey guys, you wanna meet my new fish?" Do you think your friends are gonna wanna see a fish? No. They don't wanna pet a fish. You can't take a fish out on a walk. You take that wet little oval with gills outta that bowl, they're gonna die. What are you gonna do then, huh?
Bet you wish you had kept that puppy now, huh.

This is the most emotion have had in several months.Amazing.

I'm lonely and salty. And I'm not on any anti-depressants yet. Imagine how salty I'll be with normal emotions and feelings. Y'all better buckle up.


This entry has been brought to you by: The magic 8-ball in my therapist's office that always answers me with the same answer. It's bumming me out, man.

And Now, The News.

Hey! Today's Lou's birthday. He's 17. That's cool I guess.

Yeah that's all I've got.

This entry has been brought to you by my lack of motivation, by also my obligation to keep this blog up. 

Oh, Rocky

I'm a big fan of Rocky Horror Picture Show.

Yesterday, they released the reboot.

First off, Laverne Cox is amazing and can honestly beat me up any day if she likes. Or make out with me. Either one.

Also, Columbia. Freaking. Columbia.

This isn't mine I swear.

I love her. She's amazing.

Yeah I think that's all I have for today.

I'm Tired, Also, Politics.

My three minutes is (mostly) done, I am tired, I'm full of burritos, and I haven't seen Mister since like, Thursday or Friday. And I have a ton of homework that I have no motivation to do.

Okay, edit, I just finished my homework, but it was a little hard because I was busy trying to watch the debate. Also, I dunno if I've said this before or not, but I freaking love Hillary. Like, seriously though. She's my girl.

@/Hillary Clinton, if you don't win, I will cry. LGBTQIA+, POC, women, and basically everyone in between will be screwed. Save us. You are literally the last thing standing between us and the apocalypse.

This being said, I figured out my Halloween costume this year: Hillary Clinton, Ghostbuster. It'll be great.

Also, I should go sleep.

Bombs

I might have an idea of when my first gig is.
Now I just need substantial material.

This being said, I've spent the last few days working on it, and so far I only have like, two things worth writing home about.
It's a process, I guess. I'd rather go perform six months from now with golden material, than go in three weeks with bombs.
Regardless, it's stressful and I'm tired. I've got fifty zillion things going through my head, but I don't have time for one.

Okay, I'm gonna rap things up here.

Moving day

I'm home! I wish I wasn't, but I am.

Also, according to the internet, Bill Murray is in Brooklyn now. I don't know how I feel about this. I guess I won't meet Bill.

I think this is all I have to write for the day. I'm sort sad now.

Hookie

I woke up on Thursday to go to school. I got dressed, I packed my bag, I drank entirely too much coffee. Like, a minute before I walked out the door, my dad called.

"Hey do you wanna skip school today and tomorrow and go to the beach?"

"Heck yeah."

And we drove to the beach.

Anyway, so I skipped two days of school. I don't care, we're having fun and I might have cried before the weekend was over if I hadn't skipped.

The road trip over was uneventful, sans the rest stop place that had a coffee vending machine that I obviously had to try, but only gave me dirty, lukewarm water. It wasn't even hot enough to burn me. Like, come on, man. If you're gonna give me dirty water instead of coffee, I at least want it to burn going down.


Also, Lou and I are almost adults. Not only did we raid a candy shoppe like, 30 minutes ago, I might be dragging Lou and my dad to Build-A-Bear. They have Ghostbuster bears.

I'm really good at spending unreasonable amounts of money. Not only do I desperately want Bear Build-A-Bear, I also just invested in Smartpaks for Mister, I'm also looking into a new bridle for him. His current bridle is a $20 Kincade from the Rolex clearance bin and I'm starting to regret the purchase. The leather is absolutely ridiculous and it's killing me. It's like, chaffing and falling apart.

Also, you'll notice I changed my profile picture. I'm mentioning this because I'm proud of it. Look at this:

This took two cups of cold coffee and an hour please kill me.

I think it's my Halloween prep. That's as good as it gets from me.

TRIPLE POST HECK YEAH

My TV is broken and I don't know what's coming on next right now, so I'm just sort of channel surfing waiting for 11:30 for SNL. It's also worth mentioning that I've been binge watching John Belushi skits the past few weeks, this is all relevant to the story I swear.

So I'm working on my stand-up routine and I'm just sort of paroozing through the channels, and in the middle of a sentence, a season 1 episode came on. Samurai Hotel, actually.

I dunno. I'm considering it a sign from John Belushi. John, give me the inspiration to finish a killer five minutes for this open mic night. Come on, man, I believe in you.

Lies

My mother interrupted my essay writing today to ask me if I wanted to go to a "pumpkin festival".

Naturally, I said yes.

Instead we went to a moist old cave.

I am salty af.

What's the Haps, Paps?

And now, the news.

Hurricane Matthew is currently b**** slapping the South Carolina and Florida coast, as well as a few other states, but no one cares about them. Many residents are refusing to evacuate, but we can't actually expect Florida to actually listen to us. They also don't seem to realize that it's not just going to be the wind hitting them, it's the baggage the wind has picked up. Getting tossed around by a pleasant, 100mph breeze? Cool, you're about to get "tossed around" by an 100mph flying car, too.

In the midst of the storm, though, there's the one really important question on everyone's mind. Where did Bill Murray evacuate to, and is he okay? Does he need a place to stay? Would he like to come chill out at my house?

Bill, if you see this, there's beer in the fridge and a little cigar lying around somewhere if you want it. Come stay with me. We have fun.

PS: I will make you peer edit my material for open mic night. Fair warning.

In other news, the writer and creator of this blog (me) rode for the second time after her injury, which was also the first time seeing her horse in a few weeks. He has lost all muscle mass and a lot of weight and looks like he was also b**** slapped by the hurricane, but otherwise very happy to see her. Ava wants to cry though, because all of his top line is gone and he desperately needs his mane pulled.

In the writer's hometown, a clown sighting has been reported. She is scared and she wants to cry. Ava wants to do a lot of crying.

The writer also bought a hoodie with a little pouch in the front to carry around Ms. Pickles in. She is pumped for this.

She is also supposed to be writing two essays right now. We see what's she's doing instead.

Also, to Kate McKinnon, Leslie Jones, people like that: I know you live in New York and you're not going to get pummeled by the storm, but maybe you'd like to see some violent rain storms and drink tea and coffee in my living room, snuggled up to Mort and Ms. Pickles. Also come to my house. There's beer in the fridge and you two and Bill Murray can fight over the cigar lying around. We have fun. We can draw straws over the single cigar.


That's about it for the news today, but as a quick message to all those affected by the storm:
Get out your canoes. It's hurricane season, you know what to do.

Rough

The only really solid material I have right now is a song about existential crisis. I dunno, I don't hate it. No one else seems to, either.

I rode for the first time in a month today. Mister wasn't terrible, but we're both out of shape and he's lost a lot of muscle and weight. We're putting him on supplements starting tomorrow but for now, he just sort of looks homeless. He's needs his mane pulled really bad, too. God, he's so gross. He did seem really happy to see me, though.

I bought Donnie Darko the other day but I don't have the guts to watch it, yet.

I have to finish an essay right now, but this entry is me procrastinating.

My mom is in the other room watching some stand-comedian I've never heard of before, and a few seconds ago I tried out a few lines on her and she dismissed me so she could watch videos of this guy. I can hear her laughing. I feel like this is an accurate representation of my material so far.

When I think about my future and my dreams of getting on SNL, I know I'll never make it, but it's really nice to dream. You can take away anything and everything in life, but laughter and dreams are permanent. Unless you like, can't laugh or you just have no sense of humor, and you just don't dream. Are there people like that?

Also, my phone took a leap of faith onto the concrete yesterday, and faith was not kind. It's still functioning, but it is shattered. I can't look at it without focusing in on the cracks. I should probably be more concerned about the glass in my fingertips. but honestly, my fingertips have probably seen worse. Like my ex. AYYY! No I'm kidding my ex isn't a bad person I just resent her. A lot. And everything she does. No biggie.

Okay, I should finish my essay because I really wanna get this thing out of the way and watch Ghostbusters without distraction.

Scraps

I went to a therapist today.

It was okay I guess. It was weird, I'll tell you that.

I also learned that Moe Joe's does an open mic night for comedians regularly, so I'm actually trying to scrap enough material together to get a show going. I think this is the most ambitious thing I've done all year.
It's not going great so far, but I think I can get something together.

My mom's friends had to evacuate the coast last night and have been staying up here, and I'm thinking that we're all just gonna party every night until they can go home. I dunno, but it's kind of fun.

I need to ride. It's killing me.

That's really all I have today. I guess I'm gonna go write down some ideas for the sketch and listen to motivational music. Also, THIS is why I write down all of my sketch ideas. Thank god I do.

I feel like, if I follow through with this, my life won't be a total waste so far. It'll be my first step into actually doing what makes me happy. I want this to work. God, I want this to work.

Negativity

I'm starting to think my creative writing teacher really just doesn't like my writing.

And that's okay, I'm fine with that, but I really wish he'd tell me what he doesn't like and how to improve it.

But not only that, the other day he called me a "hipster" because I "don't actually create anything, but I pretend I do and dress like I do to compensate for my lack of making anything".

Like come on, man. I wear flannels because I'm a lesbian, not because I'm a hipster. Am I wearing big, fake glasses? No. Do I spend my weekends watching indie movies? Just that once when the DVD player died. Do I drink expensive craft beer exclusively? No, I'm fifteen. But if I did drink, I think I'd be more of a "oh look it's on sale" sort of gal. Like??? Dude. Seriously?

Or maybe he just doesn't like me.

I don't blame him there, man, I'm terrible.
But I'm not a hipster. You can't hate me for being a hipster.

Regardless, his apparent dislike of my writing is really putting a hamper on my writing. And my sketch ideas. And all the rest of my work. And my life.
It's puttin' a hurtin' on me.

Again, I'm not offended he doesn't like it, I'm offended he seems to be shoving it off to the side instead of commenting and critiquing it like the rest of the students' work.


Anyway, upon watching Blues Brothers, I've realized that I think I could listen to John Belushi and Danny Aykroyd all day. Like, you guys were a "fake" band. That whole "fake" thing didn't follow through, did it? But the both of them are just good singers. I don't get it.


Morton is very interested in how computers work. I can't tell if it's really cute or kind of terrifying, because he will 100% go after the cursor with his claws out.

Okay I'm done.

Halloween 1st

Most people in my town are at the football game today.

For me, I'm enjoying tonight's screenings of Belushi movies, and then tonight's season premier of SNL 42.
I think movie nights might be what I look forward to most every week.

But I'm thinking the list for tonight is gonna go something like this:

1. Animal House ($5 at Target, high five, me!)
2. Blues Brothers (Significantly more money at Target, less enthusiastic high five, me!)

Then I'll transition over to my usual Ramis movies:

3. Meatballs
4. Ghostbusters
5. Ghostbusters 2

And if I have time:

6. American Werewolf in London (It's a Landis movie, it applies)

And hopefully those will get me to 10:30 tonight. I don't feel like working out how long all of these are together, but I don't think I'm gonna get to 6.

Also, I have a Halloween party this month to go to this month and I can't figure out what I wanna dress up as.

I'm gonna post pictures of my options.

Hillary Clinton

More of a Kate McKinnon sort of costume than an actual
Hillary costume. Where do you buy pantsuits?
(Not my pic)

Jillian Holtzmann

Oh look my wife.
(Not my pic)

Barbara DeDrew

One to the left. She's one of Kate's SNL characters. IDK
how I'd do this one.
(Still not my pic)

Bluto

Tank top. Bed sheet. Mustard.
That's what I call easy breezy beautiful
(Not my pic)

Yeah those are just my options right now. I'll probably add more.

Also, I might be entering in a beauty pageant that my school has every year. 

Am I going to take it seriously? Heck no.

"Contestant #69, there are children starving in 3rd world countries, what do you propose we do about them?"

"Feed them."

*Walks off stage.*

Also there was a huge fight a my school the other day. A lot went down, but the only important part of it was when the principle was tasered. The rest is a blur.

 Anyway, I might post again later today. 

Happy Halloween 1st everyone!