So. I started this thing with a great sense of conviction about keeping track of the chaos that is my life so that I could look back and re-examine my emotions as they happened. The point being that time heals all, so eventually most emotions are numbed down as if dosed in novacaine, only a shadow of what they were at the time. I suppose that's a good thing. Fury, lust, sadness, rage and incredulity die off and blur together to become "the past". Forgiveness is given, and the hurt or frustration you felt recedes into the furthest reaches of your memory, never to be revisited. I guess repression is a good thing. The unconscious deletion of memories that are anything but happy. I think as a person I am so incapable of holding a grudge that if given a weeklong grace period, I'm liable to forget any wrong done to me. An apology, some time, and a few cocktails generally cures whatever is ailing me.
However. Looking back at the past four months I've realized something. It is OK to forgive and not forget. It is ok to remember the hurt and not feel like you should forget the gross disrespect thrown your way. You owe people nothing, and it is certainly not your job to carry on your life in the wake of someone else's mistakes as though they never happened. Somehow in the aftermath of other peoples' mistakes, some way, they become something for the receiver to just deal with. To take in stride. I suppose I'm not making much sense here. I want to know how the supposed love of my life can go screw around, and how I'm selfish for having emotions about it. Don't know if this happens to any one else or if I'm just stuck in some sort of sick nightmare where I constantly wind up punished for my ability to forgive and move on. The one time I think maybe I can't move on from an extremely traumatic situation, someone else's idiocy somehow becomes my problem. I don't want to forget. I am writing this to remind myself of the month I spent wrapped in my blankets unable to go to class or take care of myself or the 2 weeks I did not get out of bed to eat. I am writing this to remind myself of how I felt upon hearing what was going on, and how I never thought this person could behave this way. But most importantly, I am writing this to remind myself that the unfortunate outcome of this situation, is not my fault. And if that person could see this, all I want to say....
You made this decision for me. You made your bed, now lie in it.
Monday, August 15, 2011
Thursday, March 3, 2011
Don't talk to me until I've had my daily stimulant
Every day, no matter what time I wake up, I head immediately to Starbucks Coffee, a.k.a. "The Mothership". My love affair with Starbucks goes far beyond being seen as a young woman holding the fashionable green and white cup, a status symbol amongst our kind. Starbucks cups equate you with the Upper East Side, but to hold a plain-jane Dunkin Donuts cup is to be shunned by the community of coffee drinkers. No my love for starbucks is on a much deeper level, that of a soul mate. It warms my heart as well as my hands when I hold that little white cup in the morning. No matter the sting of the freezing New Jersey winter, Starbucks is a companion that has gotten me through many a frigid day, with the conviction of a lover who cannot be swayed. Love is, as they say, blind. But I recently tacked on a new addition to the daily regimen, and that is the Petit Vanilla Scone. Always one for marketing, the word "Petit" sold me as soon as it showed up in that convex glass case. Every morning I get my coffee and my scone, and sit in my car alternating between bites of the little iced treat and my invariably cinnamon dolce coffee. Well today I ventured onto Starbucks.com to check out the nutrition info for my newly adopted child. Imagine my surprise when I found out my TINY, PETIT scone has 140 calories. Boom. Heartbreak. This thing is 2 bites, 3 at a maximum. The multigrain bagel however, has only 160 calories for about triple the size!
140 calories. 21grams carbs (!), 5g of fat, and a whopping 10 grams of sugar in one of these delectable wedges.
Goodbye, au revoir my little friend, I bid you adieu. </3
Aside from this which rocked my world, I need to be a bit more clear about the illicit love affair that coffee and I have going on. It's an incredibly co-dependent and sick, sick relationship. When I want to leave, I can't. The taste, the smell, the warmth of a coffee cup between my fingers. Intoxicating. So due to the fact that I spend $1200+ a year on this little piece of liquid heaven I decided maybe it was time I stepped back from my other half, you know- give it it's space. This decision was immediately followed by regret, and a frantic trip to Starbucks to ensure that it was still there for me despite my betrayal. Good news- it was. I text my friend in a panic
"I can't do it, I can't break up with coffee." She responded only a few minutes later,
"How about you take a break, maybe a week, see if you still have feelings for each other than reassess."
My response was swift, and to the point, drenched in truth and dripping with denial.
"You never lose feelings for your soul mate"
"Touche."
So there it is. I'm in a toxic relationship I'll never get out of. I accept it, you can condemn but you don't know. You just don't understand our love. I need Starbucks like Starbucks needs my $1200 a year to keep it going in this shitty economy. We keep each other going, and I will never desert you Cinnamon Dolce coffee (Iced or hot). I promise to be faithful until my dying day, to love and honor you and never take for granted all the days you get me through.
I do.
140 calories. 21grams carbs (!), 5g of fat, and a whopping 10 grams of sugar in one of these delectable wedges.
Goodbye, au revoir my little friend, I bid you adieu. </3
Aside from this which rocked my world, I need to be a bit more clear about the illicit love affair that coffee and I have going on. It's an incredibly co-dependent and sick, sick relationship. When I want to leave, I can't. The taste, the smell, the warmth of a coffee cup between my fingers. Intoxicating. So due to the fact that I spend $1200+ a year on this little piece of liquid heaven I decided maybe it was time I stepped back from my other half, you know- give it it's space. This decision was immediately followed by regret, and a frantic trip to Starbucks to ensure that it was still there for me despite my betrayal. Good news- it was. I text my friend in a panic
"I can't do it, I can't break up with coffee." She responded only a few minutes later,
"How about you take a break, maybe a week, see if you still have feelings for each other than reassess."
My response was swift, and to the point, drenched in truth and dripping with denial.
"You never lose feelings for your soul mate"
"Touche."
So there it is. I'm in a toxic relationship I'll never get out of. I accept it, you can condemn but you don't know. You just don't understand our love. I need Starbucks like Starbucks needs my $1200 a year to keep it going in this shitty economy. We keep each other going, and I will never desert you Cinnamon Dolce coffee (Iced or hot). I promise to be faithful until my dying day, to love and honor you and never take for granted all the days you get me through.
I do.
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
Preach.
Ok I absolutely had to copy & paste this from Elle.com. Except I don't know where the first 6 went!!!
25 things Every Woman Should Know:
7. If you're not happy, fake it til you make it
8. Don’t read blogs written by unhappy, spiteful people. Bad blogs will mangle your mood. Instead, spend an hour a day with your Moleskine notebook, connecting deeply with your own spiteful thoughts. At least they’ll be original. And P.S.: Anyone can make history. Only a great woman can tweet it.
9. When addressing a man’s penis, if you want it to get huge, tell it it’s huge.
10. If you desire a promotion, ask for it. But first, I hope to God you never leave your office before the boss, are always the woman with the clever idea at meetings, don’t hide your ego, don’t play humble (unless you screw up, and then you are very, very humble), and on casual Fridays never dress like you are heading out to do laundry after a couple of bong hits. Now, here’s your secret weapon: You’ll soon be handing the boss a list of the 10 outstanding things you’ve done for the company. Make certain you print that list on heavy parchment paper. MIT, Harvard, and Yale psychologists have found that heavy, more tactile objects make job candidates seem more important. So whatever you’re proposing will be taken more seriously on thick paper.
11. Go play with your dog. Your dog is the one creature on earth you can make insanely happy by playing “hide the cookie” in the living room. (You can also play with your cat, of course, but only if you let him correct your grammar during the action.) If you have neither cat nor dog (nor bird, nor fish), it’s not essential, but if you want to lead a more enjoyable life…why not?
12. Don’t expect a man to give you multiple orgasms. Indeed, you’ll live a more fulfilling life if you don’t expect a man to give you multiple anything. (Except I personally disagree with this one. My boyfriend can, and does. You should always hold them to a high standard)
13. If you’re struggling for your “art,” stop making it about the art and start making it about the money. Be Basquiat in your ambition, Botticelli in your dedication, and Buffett with your bottom line. Or, in Andy Warhol’s words, “Making money is art.”
14. Here’s how to nail the job interview: Pretend that the person interviewing you is the one applying for the position and that you’re interviewing him or her for the job. If you do that, you can’t help but be genuinely interested in what he or she is saying, ask interesting questions, and speak honestly—and glowingly—about the company, as if it’s the grandest place to work in the whole world.
15. When you’re in college, don’t worry too much about grades. Other than getting into a decent grad school and associating with the cream of your generation, getting straight A’s means diddly-squat in the real world, where it’s all about hustle, determination, focus, dressing right, sucking up, and who you know.
16. Women say they want a “nice guy,” but show them an asshole who treats them like dirt and they’ll trample over their own therapists to get to him.
17. Wait. You’re telling me you didn’t see that poor homeless woman on the street? Come on. You didn’t notice? Really? If you’re anxious about “hobos” asking you for money, decide how much you can allot per person (a quarter, a buck), carry the cash in your pocket, and give it to every poor person whose hand is out. You’ll experience a rare, nearly forgotten emotion—compassion.
18. If you’re tired of waiting for the dude to pop the question, start introducing him as your fiancé.
19. If you want to be told you look gorgeous, tell people they look stunning. We’re all the prettiest girl in the room, depending on the day, the hour, and the room.
20. When you discover your husband’s cheating, hire an attorney before you Krazy Glue his $60 Hanro boxers to his backside. A lawyer will help you figure out what you want, and when you know what you want, you’ll be able to act with discipline and courage. Then, over cocktails, tell your spouse you know he’s having an affair. Don’t be treacly. Don’t cry. Don’t squish Kleenex into your face, and be prepared to hold your ground. If you stay strong, drop the helpless-wife act, and tell him exactly what you want, you’ll have taken the first step on a trek that could lead to an advantageous divorce…or a thrillingly nontraditional marriage.
21. If you suffer the heinous habit of constantly saying “I’m sorry” (a real career killer, right up there with downing a flask of vodka before important meetings), take your pathetic “I’m sorry” and start adding three words: “I’m sorry…I’m so brilliant.” “I’m sorry…I’m so stunning.” “I’m sorry…I’m so miraculous.”
22. The three tragedies of life: (A) not getting what you want, (B) getting it, (C) seeing your best friend getting it. Don’t you know you were born to feel competitive with your friends? Jealousy is a little whip given to you by Mother Nature to push you to excel above your own expectations—to be better than yourself. Rivalry brings glory to the human race. And speaking of the human race…
23. Chasing men is the highest purpose in life. As my old boyfriend, the great Arthur Schopenhauer, says, “The final aim of all love intrigues, be they comic or tragic, is really of more importance than all other ends in human life. What it all turns upon is nothing less than the composition of the next generation.… It is not the weal or woe of any one individual, but that of the human race to come, which is here at stake.”
24. You’re spinning on a merry-go-round at no cost. It’s whirling around a star that has hitched a ride on a galaxy moving so fast in the universe you can’t even feel it. So listen to Auntie Eeee, doll. Whatever went wrong yesterday? You’ve already moved on.
25. If all else fails, live by these three rules: (1) Never trust a woman who shags married men. (2) Never make a deal with a guy who wears a white belt. (3) Never try to be “friends” when the affair is over. Not even the great Gatsby could make Daisy stay. After she slobbered over his shirts, it was pretty much finished.
25 things Every Woman Should Know:
7. If you're not happy, fake it til you make it
8. Don’t read blogs written by unhappy, spiteful people. Bad blogs will mangle your mood. Instead, spend an hour a day with your Moleskine notebook, connecting deeply with your own spiteful thoughts. At least they’ll be original. And P.S.: Anyone can make history. Only a great woman can tweet it.
9. When addressing a man’s penis, if you want it to get huge, tell it it’s huge.
10. If you desire a promotion, ask for it. But first, I hope to God you never leave your office before the boss, are always the woman with the clever idea at meetings, don’t hide your ego, don’t play humble (unless you screw up, and then you are very, very humble), and on casual Fridays never dress like you are heading out to do laundry after a couple of bong hits. Now, here’s your secret weapon: You’ll soon be handing the boss a list of the 10 outstanding things you’ve done for the company. Make certain you print that list on heavy parchment paper. MIT, Harvard, and Yale psychologists have found that heavy, more tactile objects make job candidates seem more important. So whatever you’re proposing will be taken more seriously on thick paper.
11. Go play with your dog. Your dog is the one creature on earth you can make insanely happy by playing “hide the cookie” in the living room. (You can also play with your cat, of course, but only if you let him correct your grammar during the action.) If you have neither cat nor dog (nor bird, nor fish), it’s not essential, but if you want to lead a more enjoyable life…why not?
12. Don’t expect a man to give you multiple orgasms. Indeed, you’ll live a more fulfilling life if you don’t expect a man to give you multiple anything. (Except I personally disagree with this one. My boyfriend can, and does. You should always hold them to a high standard)
13. If you’re struggling for your “art,” stop making it about the art and start making it about the money. Be Basquiat in your ambition, Botticelli in your dedication, and Buffett with your bottom line. Or, in Andy Warhol’s words, “Making money is art.”
14. Here’s how to nail the job interview: Pretend that the person interviewing you is the one applying for the position and that you’re interviewing him or her for the job. If you do that, you can’t help but be genuinely interested in what he or she is saying, ask interesting questions, and speak honestly—and glowingly—about the company, as if it’s the grandest place to work in the whole world.
15. When you’re in college, don’t worry too much about grades. Other than getting into a decent grad school and associating with the cream of your generation, getting straight A’s means diddly-squat in the real world, where it’s all about hustle, determination, focus, dressing right, sucking up, and who you know.
16. Women say they want a “nice guy,” but show them an asshole who treats them like dirt and they’ll trample over their own therapists to get to him.
17. Wait. You’re telling me you didn’t see that poor homeless woman on the street? Come on. You didn’t notice? Really? If you’re anxious about “hobos” asking you for money, decide how much you can allot per person (a quarter, a buck), carry the cash in your pocket, and give it to every poor person whose hand is out. You’ll experience a rare, nearly forgotten emotion—compassion.
18. If you’re tired of waiting for the dude to pop the question, start introducing him as your fiancé.
19. If you want to be told you look gorgeous, tell people they look stunning. We’re all the prettiest girl in the room, depending on the day, the hour, and the room.
20. When you discover your husband’s cheating, hire an attorney before you Krazy Glue his $60 Hanro boxers to his backside. A lawyer will help you figure out what you want, and when you know what you want, you’ll be able to act with discipline and courage. Then, over cocktails, tell your spouse you know he’s having an affair. Don’t be treacly. Don’t cry. Don’t squish Kleenex into your face, and be prepared to hold your ground. If you stay strong, drop the helpless-wife act, and tell him exactly what you want, you’ll have taken the first step on a trek that could lead to an advantageous divorce…or a thrillingly nontraditional marriage.
21. If you suffer the heinous habit of constantly saying “I’m sorry” (a real career killer, right up there with downing a flask of vodka before important meetings), take your pathetic “I’m sorry” and start adding three words: “I’m sorry…I’m so brilliant.” “I’m sorry…I’m so stunning.” “I’m sorry…I’m so miraculous.”
22. The three tragedies of life: (A) not getting what you want, (B) getting it, (C) seeing your best friend getting it. Don’t you know you were born to feel competitive with your friends? Jealousy is a little whip given to you by Mother Nature to push you to excel above your own expectations—to be better than yourself. Rivalry brings glory to the human race. And speaking of the human race…
23. Chasing men is the highest purpose in life. As my old boyfriend, the great Arthur Schopenhauer, says, “The final aim of all love intrigues, be they comic or tragic, is really of more importance than all other ends in human life. What it all turns upon is nothing less than the composition of the next generation.… It is not the weal or woe of any one individual, but that of the human race to come, which is here at stake.”
24. You’re spinning on a merry-go-round at no cost. It’s whirling around a star that has hitched a ride on a galaxy moving so fast in the universe you can’t even feel it. So listen to Auntie Eeee, doll. Whatever went wrong yesterday? You’ve already moved on.
25. If all else fails, live by these three rules: (1) Never trust a woman who shags married men. (2) Never make a deal with a guy who wears a white belt. (3) Never try to be “friends” when the affair is over. Not even the great Gatsby could make Daisy stay. After she slobbered over his shirts, it was pretty much finished.
Monday, February 14, 2011
No Explanation Necessary
 |
“ Love isn’t an act, it’s a whole life. It’s staying with her now because she needs you; it’s knowing you and she will still care about each other when sex and daydreams, fights and futures—when all that’s on the shelf and done with. Love—why, I’ll tell you what love is: it’s you at seventy-five and her at seventy-one, each of you listening for the other’s step in the next room, each afraid that a sudden silence, a sudden cry, could mean a lifetime’s talk is over. ” |
"Promise me you'll never forget me, ever. Not even when we're 100"
-- Winnie The Pooh
"If you live to be a hundred, I want to live to be a hundred minus one day,
so I never have to live without you."
"When you truly care for someone, you don't look for faults . You don't look for answers .You don't look for mistakes. Instead, you fight the mistakes. You accept the faults & you overlook excuses. The measure of love is when you love without measure."
Thank you for always making me laugh you nut.
Saturday, January 29, 2011
Achingly Beautiful
Sometimes when I look at you I cry inside, and I can't help but smile at the fact that you don't, and probably never will realize how beautiful I think you are. Not in physical appearance, though I guess you've got that covered too..
You've got these amazing dreams, these plans these goals you'll never be able to achieve them, not even a small portion of the huge swelling mass of thought'y matter in your head. All I can think is that we're all quite lucky it's somewhat contained. It's like.. I want to be that way, I want to feel how you feel, dream like you.. I want that star-locked gaze, I just want to be able to believe that you're right, that such things are possible.
On the other hand.. I can tell that part of me never wants to be like that, because it seems so far away from reality sometimes. Though, if I were to really consider it, I'd realize that not a whole lot in my world seems too entirely real any way..
I have huge conflicts in my mind, I can't distinguish reality from dream, from whatever else, because I don't think I want to believe what I do of reality. Perhaps I even want my reality to be something else entirely..
I don't know, it's kind of like this tumbling seething vortex of utter confusion, but the best kind, the kind that is so much more comforting than "real" things. After all, reality might not even exist, at least not any one reality. There are far too many completely different people in the world, with varying thought patterns, crazy ideas that others couldn't comprehend in their wildest dreams..
I just don't think all of this content can fit into a single truth.
You wouldn't know it, but I think you're achingly beautiful.
Not that I haven't told you. I say it under the confines of my husky breath, not letting the thought coerce itself into a realized sentence. Then I try again, just sitting with you, right next to you, feeling little wisps of feathery hair brush up against my shoulder. I'm not even looking at you, but I know you are giving me that grin, that charming, little boy sort of smile that sends my mind into oblivion and my nether regions into overdrive. Certainly you will never know the effects of that smile. It was made to haunt me, to keep me awake in my most extravagant dreams.
You've even formulated little answers to give me once I try the phrase on you again. It's almost like you are distinctly uncomfortable with the way you wear your skin, your face, your lips. Sighing, I listen, knowing that you, for some reason, will always fail to see the truth of your beauty.
"I'm not beautiful... don't say things like that. " If that came out of the mouth of anyone else, it would sound manipulative, a coy plea for my obsequiety. On you, the words express your being. You do think you are ugly.
"You, too." Yet we both know that's a lie. For all of my subtle charm and flings with style, we both know that my supposed attractiveness is nothing but a goddamned lie, that no cologne I wear or clothes I comport myself to will ever give myself the languid, almost ethereal fluidity that is your body.
But the worse response of all? Silence. It cuts through my very skin to study the vacancy in your black eyes, without even a hollow reassurance to know that you just heard anything that just escaped out of my mouth. It makes me feel so opaque, like you can see right through me, sense the coagulation of love and lust that I express to you just from the tone of my voice. And that you hate me for it.
So, I've made a resolution. I won't say it to you, again. I'll supress the urge to utter it when we are sitting on the grass, windy, shades of cloud covering your face and blades of sunlight cutting through the sky, kissing the angular and studied sinews of your skin. I'll show restraint when I see you dressed up, doing justice to the soft, subtly tailored clothing like a model never could. And I won't even mutter it under my breath, knowing that somehow just saying it will violate your esteem in no uncertain way. So, I will remember it, one last time...trying to assure myself that maybe it is your shy nature that lends you such uncomparable grace.
And it's true. Because even though I say it, the words are never going to percolate from your ears and down to your soul, where it matters. And that's a damned shame, lover. A goddamned shame. But yet another reason why I love you, and the devil may care if it means I must add another sin to my laundry list of self-destructing vices.
And so ends this little confession of mine... but I must say it to you, again.. hoping that somehow you will understand my message that is a prayerful bird in flight..
You wouldn't know it, but I think you're achingly beautiful.
You've got these amazing dreams, these plans these goals you'll never be able to achieve them, not even a small portion of the huge swelling mass of thought'y matter in your head. All I can think is that we're all quite lucky it's somewhat contained. It's like.. I want to be that way, I want to feel how you feel, dream like you.. I want that star-locked gaze, I just want to be able to believe that you're right, that such things are possible.
On the other hand.. I can tell that part of me never wants to be like that, because it seems so far away from reality sometimes. Though, if I were to really consider it, I'd realize that not a whole lot in my world seems too entirely real any way..
I have huge conflicts in my mind, I can't distinguish reality from dream, from whatever else, because I don't think I want to believe what I do of reality. Perhaps I even want my reality to be something else entirely..
I don't know, it's kind of like this tumbling seething vortex of utter confusion, but the best kind, the kind that is so much more comforting than "real" things. After all, reality might not even exist, at least not any one reality. There are far too many completely different people in the world, with varying thought patterns, crazy ideas that others couldn't comprehend in their wildest dreams..
I just don't think all of this content can fit into a single truth.
Not that I haven't told you. I say it under the confines of my husky breath, not letting the thought coerce itself into a realized sentence. Then I try again, just sitting with you, right next to you, feeling little wisps of feathery hair brush up against my shoulder. I'm not even looking at you, but I know you are giving me that grin, that charming, little boy sort of smile that sends my mind into oblivion and my nether regions into overdrive. Certainly you will never know the effects of that smile. It was made to haunt me, to keep me awake in my most extravagant dreams.
You've even formulated little answers to give me once I try the phrase on you again. It's almost like you are distinctly uncomfortable with the way you wear your skin, your face, your lips. Sighing, I listen, knowing that you, for some reason, will always fail to see the truth of your beauty.
"I'm not beautiful... don't say things like that. " If that came out of the mouth of anyone else, it would sound manipulative, a coy plea for my obsequiety. On you, the words express your being. You do think you are ugly.
"You, too." Yet we both know that's a lie. For all of my subtle charm and flings with style, we both know that my supposed attractiveness is nothing but a goddamned lie, that no cologne I wear or clothes I comport myself to will ever give myself the languid, almost ethereal fluidity that is your body.
But the worse response of all? Silence. It cuts through my very skin to study the vacancy in your black eyes, without even a hollow reassurance to know that you just heard anything that just escaped out of my mouth. It makes me feel so opaque, like you can see right through me, sense the coagulation of love and lust that I express to you just from the tone of my voice. And that you hate me for it.
So, I've made a resolution. I won't say it to you, again. I'll supress the urge to utter it when we are sitting on the grass, windy, shades of cloud covering your face and blades of sunlight cutting through the sky, kissing the angular and studied sinews of your skin. I'll show restraint when I see you dressed up, doing justice to the soft, subtly tailored clothing like a model never could. And I won't even mutter it under my breath, knowing that somehow just saying it will violate your esteem in no uncertain way. So, I will remember it, one last time...trying to assure myself that maybe it is your shy nature that lends you such uncomparable grace.
And it's true. Because even though I say it, the words are never going to percolate from your ears and down to your soul, where it matters. And that's a damned shame, lover. A goddamned shame. But yet another reason why I love you, and the devil may care if it means I must add another sin to my laundry list of self-destructing vices.
And so ends this little confession of mine... but I must say it to you, again.. hoping that somehow you will understand my message that is a prayerful bird in flight..
You wouldn't know it, but I think you're achingly beautiful.
Monday, January 24, 2011
Finding Your Own Bliss.
So I am currently sitting in Barnes and Noble once again, my pink notebook open beside me, a clear reminder of what I should be doing. That is, writing a paper about Freud's psychoanalytic theory about a woman who was "sex deprived". Instead I am immersing myself in the pages of US Weekly, reading about how talentless country singer Taylor Swift was dumped unceremoniously by Jake Gyllenhaal. More importantly, he has supposedly linked up with her "nemesis" the absolutely stunning Camilla Belle. BOOM. All is right with the world. I wish the whiny corkscrew haired starlet would stop complaining about all she's lost in love. Perhaps Taylor, you are doing something wrong. Aside from that, my notebook is staring back at me, judging me for not doing my work. I am in my own world of blissfulness, working on my second cup of coffee and drowning myself in the pages of Buddhist philosophies (after the gossip columns of course). All I can think about is how absolutely wonderful the ensuing 4 hours here should be, removed from my dark little house on campus, surrounded by books, coffee, and never ending knowledge. When I get home green tea, a rose face mask and a new episode of Gossip Girl await me, which for me, is the dictionary definition of bliss. I'm enjoying blogger more and more, being able to spill my thoughts to a party not completely confidential is liberating. Coffee's done, time for another.
Ciao <3
Ciao <3
Thursday, December 9, 2010
Too Much Coffee
So I just got back from Barnes & Noble.Which to me is literally heaven on earth. Lattes, christmas music in the background, and more books than I know what to do with. So after speed reading about Buddhism and dieting I took a few things away with me. I'm having a panic attack for no reason other than I drank a venti coffee on an empty stomach. Something in my left leg is throbbing...hm. But of course, as always happens with any time I spend alone, I've had somewhat of an epiphany. You see what happens when I have too much caffiene on an empty stomach is my thoughts go on some sort of crack or other stimulant, and start running rampant through my head. Even now as I'm sitting here I'm typing a million miles a minute, and if someone were to see me, I'm sure they would assume-- drugs. It's fine though because I've come up with rules I think I, personally should live by. What's right for me may not be right for everyone else, but slowly, I'm learning how to be ok on a day to day basis.
1. Be nice. Like, to everyone. Waiters, people on the street, family members. (ok let's be honest though, sometimes family members deserve a little rudeness, I exempt myself from this at least several times a week). But seriously, being mean doesn't get you anywhere.
2. Tell the truth. Always. Not telling the truth just makes things really complicated. And then you have to worry about someone finding out you didn't tell the truth and it spirals into anxiety and overthinking and just, sucks. Not telling the truth will always end badly. So be honest with others, and most importantly, yourself.
3. Take risks. You'll never know unless you try; and it doesn't matter what your excuse is. All that matters is you're not doing it.
4. Care about something, anything. Sports, food, family, books, a hobby ANYTHING. Have a passion, love it.
5. Do something that makes you happy every day. You deserve it.
6. Work hard. Self explanatory.
7. Be open. People aren't mind readers, and no one can help you unless you help yourself and open up.
8. Give back. Give as much as you can. Personally my mother has always told me not to give money to homeless people because you don't know what they're going to spend it on. So if you pass someone on the street this december, go buy them a burger. Shuttup, its like $5.
9. Look people in the eye when you speak to them, it shows that you are confident and believe what you are saying.
Which I guess leads me to another thing I've been thinking about. Insecurity. Everyone has them. But I'm really tired of feeling like having any insecurity at all is a sin. EVERYONE has them. It doesn't matter what they are about, if you try and say you think you are perfect in every way, you should quit whatever you're doing, and become a life coach, because you've found the secret to life. But I know personally, I've always been made to feel like having any insecurity is terrible, and you should be so self confident! 24 hours a day! 7 days a week! Unfortunately it just doesn't work like that. I know a particularly biting insult from you're significant other is "stop being so insecure!", and sure, sometimes you really need to get over yourself and believe someone CAN and DOES love you and only you, just for being you. But you are also ALLOWED to have insecurities. I know many people keep them under wraps, because it's viewed as an undesireable trait to possess. "confidence is sexy". I'm quite the confident person, without sounding too much like an asshole. I believe I can do most things I REALLY try at, and I don't think I'm completely unfortunate looking, some days, I even feel really pretty. (gasp, I know. Keep breathing. The feeling of shock will pass). But it still kills me that having one or perhaps many insecurities is considered "so wrong" in a social setting. I know all of my friends insecurities, literally all of them and shockingly, I don't love them any less. I don't think they're particularly needy or emotional people. I don't even think they are self deprecating. I think they are so normal it's sickening, and I can relate on one, or all levels. But somehow when you're in a relationship, an insecurity about yourself or your partner becomes a mortal sin, and sometimes, the thing that pushes your partner away. Nevermind if you're happy and self assured 364 days out of the year. The day you say something not 100% sure of yourself, you're instantly paranoid and insecure. That's a joke. Shut the fuck up, because we all know you've thought it too. (I never promised this would be classy). If I really wanted to, I could point out every flaw about myself, physical and mental. So it amuses me when people inform me of them like I haven't already noticed. I.e. that I have a big nose, or that I'm not completely skinny. Darlings? I look at myself every day, I'm perfectly aware of the flaws. I'm aware I overthink, I'm aware thoughts spill out of my mind and through my mouth at an alarming speed that often lands me in hot water. I'm aware that I can be stubborn and that I'll rarely back down if I think I'm right, and I MUST prove to you why you're wrong. I'm sure I am annoying. Like, positive. The thing is... If one day you suggest you have an insecurity, all of that is part of YOU, and who you are. And if someone blows you off as being insecure and paranoid, well thats part of you. and shouldn't your friends and other close relationships take every part of you? The good and the bad? I know my friends are all a little nuts. A couple are complete psychos. And that is exactly why I love them. Usually it's all of why. Through the Xanex and mental breakdowns come amazing epiphanies, which is why I know I have the most interesting group of friends in the world. (you're all nuts).
I've been told by multiple people that I'm an intimidating person. Personally I think it's laughable but I suppose I could see it. I'm not easily swayed or intimidated by others, and other people's opinions really don't bother me. I am by no means placing myself on a pedestal, I have my moments. Approximately once a month or once every other month I have a complete mental breakdown. But then it passes, I learn something about myself, and I move on. Maybe it's because I come off as pretty confident that I'm the scape goat for many jokes, from my friends, boyfriend, or family. I must say I get "picked on" quite a bit more than the average person. A friend put it best "you're an easy target because you handle it relatively well". But the reason I can and do laugh at myself is because I know I have to.
The bottom line which I need to remind myself in this little online journal. Is that I am crazy. I am a crazy person. Actually, a text that has stayed with me, (though I was pretty incredulous at the time) is from none other than my most sarcastic friend "I think you're kind of a mess. Let's be honest, you're a mess at times" (C.Gallo). I was so offended at the time, but now I laugh out loud every time I think about it. It is SO true. I am a hot mess. Weirdly enough, I'm the mess that everyone I know comes to for advice, which is ironic because usually I can't follow my own. But I'm realizing crazy isn't a sin. It's fun and it's interesting to HAVE thoughts, and to act according to them. Peace and zen are all well and good, but sometimes you need to punch things.
*sidenote* today I learned that Magra-Falsa, a term from Brazil means "fake thin". That is to say that when you see a woman from far away she appears skinny, but up close you realize she is "quite fleshy and round"- which I thought was absolutely hysterical because that is ME. And the Brazilians actually like this. God Bless the Brazilians.
1. Be nice. Like, to everyone. Waiters, people on the street, family members. (ok let's be honest though, sometimes family members deserve a little rudeness, I exempt myself from this at least several times a week). But seriously, being mean doesn't get you anywhere.
2. Tell the truth. Always. Not telling the truth just makes things really complicated. And then you have to worry about someone finding out you didn't tell the truth and it spirals into anxiety and overthinking and just, sucks. Not telling the truth will always end badly. So be honest with others, and most importantly, yourself.
3. Take risks. You'll never know unless you try; and it doesn't matter what your excuse is. All that matters is you're not doing it.
4. Care about something, anything. Sports, food, family, books, a hobby ANYTHING. Have a passion, love it.
5. Do something that makes you happy every day. You deserve it.
6. Work hard. Self explanatory.
7. Be open. People aren't mind readers, and no one can help you unless you help yourself and open up.
8. Give back. Give as much as you can. Personally my mother has always told me not to give money to homeless people because you don't know what they're going to spend it on. So if you pass someone on the street this december, go buy them a burger. Shuttup, its like $5.
9. Look people in the eye when you speak to them, it shows that you are confident and believe what you are saying.
Which I guess leads me to another thing I've been thinking about. Insecurity. Everyone has them. But I'm really tired of feeling like having any insecurity at all is a sin. EVERYONE has them. It doesn't matter what they are about, if you try and say you think you are perfect in every way, you should quit whatever you're doing, and become a life coach, because you've found the secret to life. But I know personally, I've always been made to feel like having any insecurity is terrible, and you should be so self confident! 24 hours a day! 7 days a week! Unfortunately it just doesn't work like that. I know a particularly biting insult from you're significant other is "stop being so insecure!", and sure, sometimes you really need to get over yourself and believe someone CAN and DOES love you and only you, just for being you. But you are also ALLOWED to have insecurities. I know many people keep them under wraps, because it's viewed as an undesireable trait to possess. "confidence is sexy". I'm quite the confident person, without sounding too much like an asshole. I believe I can do most things I REALLY try at, and I don't think I'm completely unfortunate looking, some days, I even feel really pretty. (gasp, I know. Keep breathing. The feeling of shock will pass). But it still kills me that having one or perhaps many insecurities is considered "so wrong" in a social setting. I know all of my friends insecurities, literally all of them and shockingly, I don't love them any less. I don't think they're particularly needy or emotional people. I don't even think they are self deprecating. I think they are so normal it's sickening, and I can relate on one, or all levels. But somehow when you're in a relationship, an insecurity about yourself or your partner becomes a mortal sin, and sometimes, the thing that pushes your partner away. Nevermind if you're happy and self assured 364 days out of the year. The day you say something not 100% sure of yourself, you're instantly paranoid and insecure. That's a joke. Shut the fuck up, because we all know you've thought it too. (I never promised this would be classy). If I really wanted to, I could point out every flaw about myself, physical and mental. So it amuses me when people inform me of them like I haven't already noticed. I.e. that I have a big nose, or that I'm not completely skinny. Darlings? I look at myself every day, I'm perfectly aware of the flaws. I'm aware I overthink, I'm aware thoughts spill out of my mind and through my mouth at an alarming speed that often lands me in hot water. I'm aware that I can be stubborn and that I'll rarely back down if I think I'm right, and I MUST prove to you why you're wrong. I'm sure I am annoying. Like, positive. The thing is... If one day you suggest you have an insecurity, all of that is part of YOU, and who you are. And if someone blows you off as being insecure and paranoid, well thats part of you. and shouldn't your friends and other close relationships take every part of you? The good and the bad? I know my friends are all a little nuts. A couple are complete psychos. And that is exactly why I love them. Usually it's all of why. Through the Xanex and mental breakdowns come amazing epiphanies, which is why I know I have the most interesting group of friends in the world. (you're all nuts).
I've been told by multiple people that I'm an intimidating person. Personally I think it's laughable but I suppose I could see it. I'm not easily swayed or intimidated by others, and other people's opinions really don't bother me. I am by no means placing myself on a pedestal, I have my moments. Approximately once a month or once every other month I have a complete mental breakdown. But then it passes, I learn something about myself, and I move on. Maybe it's because I come off as pretty confident that I'm the scape goat for many jokes, from my friends, boyfriend, or family. I must say I get "picked on" quite a bit more than the average person. A friend put it best "you're an easy target because you handle it relatively well". But the reason I can and do laugh at myself is because I know I have to.
The bottom line which I need to remind myself in this little online journal. Is that I am crazy. I am a crazy person. Actually, a text that has stayed with me, (though I was pretty incredulous at the time) is from none other than my most sarcastic friend "I think you're kind of a mess. Let's be honest, you're a mess at times" (C.Gallo). I was so offended at the time, but now I laugh out loud every time I think about it. It is SO true. I am a hot mess. Weirdly enough, I'm the mess that everyone I know comes to for advice, which is ironic because usually I can't follow my own. But I'm realizing crazy isn't a sin. It's fun and it's interesting to HAVE thoughts, and to act according to them. Peace and zen are all well and good, but sometimes you need to punch things.
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