Roommate Hunting and Dating

Looking for the ideal roommate is oddly similar to dating (I think, it's been a minute since I've done the latter). You need to make sure you have complementary personalities, that the other person won't be a complete slob that ruins your carefully cultivated abode, that said person isn't a complete oddball that will ruin your home life, is financially stable with a solid job, and basically is just worthy of sharing your life. Because, let's face it, that's what you're going to do. So I'm looking for a roommate in a city where I know NO ONE, and I'm just striking out, as far as I can tell. Since I am a perfectionist in some ways, it's defeating. Because I like to plan as far ahead as possible, it's terrifying. I know it's the kind of thing that just needs to happen the way it happens, but I'm not enjoying this process so far. This probably means I'm going to despise dating. Excellent.

What the hell am I doing?

Monotony = Death: The End of an Era

A lot of big changes for me in the near future here. Will most likely be moving to a new house soon (or at least exchanging [ex] boyfriend for a roommate), will be losing two of my pets, and summer will overtake Seattle (meaning I can do all those things I wanted to do when the weather was crap).

So many people I know are content with the status quo, with things being the way they always were. And as much as I'd like to think I'm different, I'm actually just as guilty of this in many ways as they are. It's so easy to accept that gray area between joy and pain, and cling to that as "happiness."

I've been carrying around the program to a funeral for the last week. Just this morning I realized there was a quote on the back of it:

"The fear of death follows from the fear of life. A man who lives fully is prepared to die at any time."
- Mark Twain

Well, I'm not prepared to die at anytime. And I think it's about time I got ready.

The American Dream is an ugly beast.

Reason vs. Chaos

I think I understand now why people need to believe that things happen for a reason. It’s a basic coping mechanism. Because if things didn’t happen for a reason, why would these terrible things happen to good, undeserving people like them?
But wait, that’s right. Bad things just fucking happen. To the people who don’t ever deserve it. That’s why life sucks. Remember? You have your ups, your downs, and then, out of nowhere, life send you a wallop so severe you’re on your ass on the ground and can’t remember your last name. And then you cry, “Why did this terrible thing happen to me? I’m a good person!”
Boo fucking hoo. Stop whining. Because let’s be honest, life is so beautiful and so horribly shitty in the same second that no one really understands why anything happens the way it does.
So happens for a reason? I’ll pass on that philosophy, thanks. I’m sticking to random chaos, because that idea is more comforting than thinking that these things happen for a reason.