am i excited yet?

I keep asking myself this. I found a place to live today. I am mildly excited about it. I'm excited about it in the way that you get excited about things that you know are going to be an absolute trainwreck shitshow but will end up being hilarious experiences that you look back on fondly. You know, "character building" experiences. That's exactly what this is going to be. I am picturing myself moving a huge blue leather couch into an apartment the size of a closet. I'm envisioning me trying to fit all of my storage bullshit into one small hallway closet. I am picturing myself trying to decide if I should put my microwave on top of my refrigerator or just on the floor somewhere. I am picturing myself fitting only half of my clothes into my closet. And I am picturing doing all of this without air conditioning at the end of July. I am picturing myself "building character." Am I excited yet?

The answer is no. Well, maybe. It's complicated. Like all of my relationship status' have been on Facebook. "It's Complicated with Long Island." I'm not excited, and I don't know why. I don't know why I'll miss Greensboro so much when I so rarely enjoy myself here. I don't know why I'll miss going out to bars and social events and know or know of virtually everybody yet have them all strangely avoid acknowledging me. I don't know why I'll miss seeing everyone I ever dated whenever I go out. I don't know why I'll miss being involved in that cycle. I don't know why I'll miss seeing Confederate flags. I don't know why I'll miss having my father on my back, bitching about why I don't want to eat dinner with the family. I don't know why I'm not excited, and it's starting to bother me.

It's the dog chasing the car. Aim high. Follow your dreams. Burn your paws on the asphalt, catch up with the car, only to have it swallow you under it's grill and spit you out behind it for little children to pass on the highway and burst into tears at the sight of your roadkilled, mangled body. So, once your dream comes true, what happens next?

In my case, you just find new things to worry about. When I got the job, I couldn't be excited because I had to then find a place to live. When I found a place to live, I couldn't be excited because I had to think about how broke I'll be until August 15 or so. Everyone's asking me about all the exciting details of my new place, my new life, and I don't want to dish them because I'm grumpy. I don't want you to be excited for me when I can't be excited for myself. Sorry I hyped everything up and got you all pumped for me. Just put your pumping on hold - I'll let you know when we can all be excited together. And by then, I'll be a melted puddle of Wes in an un-air conditioned apartment somewhere in Long Island. I'll be Alex Mack. Hey, that's exciting!

On the really, really, real. There are certain things I'm excited about. I mean, the fact that I'm living in a space marginally larger than a dorm room, for example. This actually excites me. I get to be creative and think of new, inventive ways to store all of the ridiculous shit I've accumulated. I'll be reading ReadyMade for ideas. IKEA will be my new best friend. I'm also, actually, very excited about being a stranger in a strange place. I'm excited about having no attachments, but I also know that Facebook stalking old Greensboro friends and lovers will kill my excitement. I'm excited that I'm 15 minutes from the beach. I'm going to be really close to Fire Island if I get the urge to go nude sunbathing or get VD. You know, there are a lot of benefits to living on Long Island.

Maybe sometime, by the end of the year, I'll have let go of these apprehensions and just learned to enjoy myself through it all. To keep a sense of humor. To realize that nothing is permanent. To be excited about the opportunities I've been granted. To forget about the things that really don't mean anything at all.

And as I sit here, trying to think of a way to end this entry, all I can do is get excited. Because when I write out the reasons for my scary wariness, I realize that they're all so silly. This is a new chapter in my life.

When your dreams do come true, what comes next? You make new dreams. You keep looking forward. You keep chasing the car. And instead of becoming that horribly violent image I supplied you with earlier, you don't run under the car, but next to it. From a safe distance. Whatever you do, just keep running.