And it might be grand

"So analyze me, surprise me, but can't magmatize me
Scanning while you're finding ways to sabotage me" -Nas

Funny story (well at least I think so). I don't listen to rap much anymore, there's maybe 5 artists in the genre I still like (Nas, Wayne, Kanye, Lupe, Jay), but it's no where to the level of when I was 12 and 13, the years where a girl thinks she's just amazingly cool. I wouldn't listen to whatever everyone else listened either, while they were swept away with "popular" rappers, I had an obsession with the "intellectual, self-conscious" Nas. At 12, an obsession with Nas! But then he married Kelis (who is sort of... hmmm.... not the ideal image of the proper girl for a conscious rapper), and it broke my 15 or 16-year-old heart. Ok not really, but I write this to suggest that even at 12, I was a bit different and a bit of a dork. But something happened last night, Peter and I were on youtube and as much "cooler" as he may be at around 14 than I was, he is starting to really detest what everyone likes, the new... I'd hate to say it... Southern, non-lyrical, dance-craze obsessed rap... and he was listening to Illamatic Nas. It made me feel old especially since I'm "beyond that" now and I don't keep up with new Jay or Lupe or Nas. I typically listen to the calmer Norah Jones', Jason Mraz' and Carrie Underwoods of the world. The similarities are quite intriguing.... as different as we are.... we're also alike, wonder if in 5 years, he'll be a semi-tree hugging, vegetarian, activist/writer type student too...... I'm probably pushing it.

But Nas and Kelis are getting a divorce (finally?) and she's about 8 months preggers....... oh boy. I still think he's a great rapper, maybe I have a chance now... hmmm that's bad esp. since he probably cheated (and let's be honest this is Hollywood so she probably did as well) not to mention he's 15 years older then me... yeah :)

On to real life...

I found a little comfortable apartment in Lewiston for 125 a week (500/ month) that I'm moving into, by my little ol' self next week. It's exciting... the price is good, the people seem nice, we'll see. Lewiston is actually a little bigger than I thought, we drove to the outskirts of the city, found the plots where the NICE homes were, it's so much like Waterville, where Bates professors live v. where everyone else lives.... JUST a little different.

Intriguingly, I haven't thought about the person I thought I would think about this week. Maybe it is the distance but the 30 minute drive there and the 30 minute drive back, sometimes with seat belt on, sometimes with it off, I thought about a rundown, unregistered, illegal license car from Virginia. A guy in it, stick thin, jamming to Mobb Deep, quiet, messy hair, driving a million miles an hour, the passenger seat had a broken seat belt, and his car smelt... not great... I think that moment (maybe July of '05... I can't really remember anymore) was probably when I felt on my ass in love. I wonder if I still have those journals... or if he has them... or if they're ripped to a million pieces in a fit of anger on some odd day. Oh boy.

I honestly don't think about him much and memories do eventually fade. A couple of months ago, I tried as hard as I could and couldn't remember the number or the address. I was even a little iffy on the date of birth and all. Yet the unfortunate... maybe fortunate thing... who knows.. is that it seems as though when friendships with certain other men are a little on the rocks, just falling off the rocks and unable to be repaired in general, he has a tendency to sort of (perhaps suddenly and coincidentally, probably not) creep into that free, un-occupied space in my head the way nothing else out of the million other things that someone my age has going on, does and could ever do. I've always appreciated and ran after situations I perceive could mesh over that vacancy but I've never perceived anything with the ability to fill it, perhaps when I am older all these temporary replacements may lead to a permanent "deep" situation with substinence. But the moments are temporary, he's the first and the only love, thus the spirit of the boy has somehow staked it's territory. Though it doesn't make sense, because like clockwork, and like my lust, I'll still keep on reeling 'em in. And I know... all this history... and awkward situations... I don't know what to say to any of them if I encounter them, especially him, but I also know that I only truly regret and mourn one. Conspiracy theories have it that these poor and inevitably doomed male friendships only work as naggy reminders for me... they're subtle and unemotional though, so the girl can deal.

On a complete opposite topic.

They lost tonight but Go Nuggs. (To follow my "I don't follow trends" theory, I also enjoy watching Melo more than LeBron... oh what a rap listening, basketball watching, yet still quite girly and semi-diva, tom boy, confused thingie I was once upon a time... and still kind of am today.)