I've been obsessed with Dave Matthews since the concert. I can't help it. My poor roommate, Chris, is stuck listening to the forty tracks on my Napster play list. The thing is, I really don't get tired of hearing the songs. I've found tons of songs never recorded (like a cover of Zepplin's "Tangerine") and live performances. DaveSpeak happens to be fun to collect. I'm reading a book, also, about the band.
It's almost an embarrassment how much I obsess over things. I just get interested in something, especially celebrities, and I have to literally dive into them. I read and download and search and research everything I can about them. Past obsessions include Ewan McGregor, Jarvis Cocker and Robbie Williams. I think it is my desire to know these people as individuals...I want to know their spirit...to know their lives. And I wonder about inane details of their lives: do they keep a clean house? Do they buy 2% or Whole milk?
And I can't seem to explain why these things interest me. Why I waste time being a fan. I wonder why I can't be cool and just enjoy their music and art and move on...be myself. But some immature streak in me requires that I learn everything I can about them...as if that will some how make them virtually real for me.
My first big obsession was, don't laugh, with The Monkees. I know, lame, but it was when I was real young and Nickalodean was playing their show. I recorded nearly all the episodes and bought their tapes at KMart. I listened to them non-stop. One memory I have is when I had a fight with my little brother and got in serious trouble. I put on my earphones and played "I'm Not Your Stepping Stone" and screamed out the lyrics till my mother came in the room and seriously chewed me out. Fun times.
Several infatuations would follow: Neil Patrick Harris, New Kids on the Block, Shakespeare, Ewan McGregor, Prince Charles. My taste in infatuations isn't great...but they were mine. And I ran little scenarios in my head. But my scenarios where not the average someday-we'll-get-married type of scenarios. I understood that as celebrities they would never fall in love with a chubby, pimple faced 12 year old, so I'd dream up how they'd become my best-friends.
Sad, isn't it?
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On top of all this obsession weighing heavy on me, I've been just hankering for an adventure. I want to runaway. I want to live a life full of travel and people. I've been thinking about moving away. Alaska, of course, is top of my list. Michelle and Eric are moving to Colorado and I thought of moving there too. Having two people I love in the state provides a great support system.
I wish I could just be brave enough to say "Fuck this shit" and grab my clothes and high tail it out.
But I'm not stupid enough...God, I hate being a responsible young adult.
I guess that's why I love Jim Morrison...he was brave enough to self-destruct.
I wish I had no ties to this place. No school, no money issues, no friends. Just me...that's all I want right now...being by myself.
Lately, I've been thinking about living in a small town two hours from Anchorage called Seward. I could live in a tiny crappy apartment and hang out at one of the local bars and marvel at the beauty right across the street. Simple living without all this STUFF!
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Stuff is a big problem for my family right now. Our house is overwhelmed with knick-knacks and piles of clothes, stack of furniture, books books books everywhere. It is so...depressing. It reminds me of the German family in the movie "The Explorers" with Ethan Hawke. Yeah, my family is a mess...top to bottom...through and through. Why do we continue to buy STUFF? Why can't we say: I'm happy with what we've got...let's just keep it this way.
But my family isn't happy...we aren't happy with what we have. There's a hole in the soul of this house. And no matter how much stuff we buy it will never go away.
That's why I want to go away...so I can start over without all this STUFF!
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Good News Update: Ummmm...I'm in a play at the Phoenix being directed by my good friend Andy McCarty. A genius actor and a great person. I really adore this man!
Smooches,
Chelsea