I'm sorry your stepmother is a nympho

"The whole situation, it's complicated." That's what was just said on the sequence I'm playing behind me. None of what I should be working on seems to be properly prepared for me and I lack the direction on what to do next, and therefore thoughts began to swim in my head. Of course the situation is complicated. It's rarely simple. Real people have a hard enough time figuring things out. Once you throw in the paranormal all bets are off.

I'm having a rough self esteem day. Ever get those? I look at a hundred pictures of myself(guestimate, I didn't actually count) and in most I prefer what I looked like then to how I look now. Granted, looking through folders of pictures I remember that I, at the time they were brought on to my harddrive, I must have omitted those I did not like. So I am looking at the cream of the crop, and compare them to what I look like on a rainy Tuesday in October, when I already feel shitty about myself. In response I eat a bag of carrots and go for a walk around the neighborhood right before it begins to pour. And somehow by the end of my walk I've talked myself into walking confident. Somehow it changes how I look. I don't know how I do it, but I do it.

September was a pretty forgettable time, but I learned a great deal of what I can and can't be in control of. October isn't doing me any favors right now, and I'm trying to reel it in. It doesn't realize that I'm the one in charge of this fishing trip.

On Turning 30

I am days away from my 30th birthday. Some parts of me are filled with dread. I have taken on too much, and made much more of an ordeal out of this occasion, those parts think. Other parts are elated that so many people will be getting together with me, for me. Those parts are ecstatic, and don't know how to properly react. There were tears in the car ride to work today, I think because I was overwhelmed.

When I first reflected upon my birthday, I was worried that I would have an adverse reaction to the day of. 30 seems like such a high number. My mother was younger than 30 when she had me, and growing up, those ideas that life should be built within a set schedule gets tattooed on ones brain. And as I was looking at approaching 30, single, driven by work, feeling slightly bad about how lax I've become regarding any sort of exercise or diet regime, I was frightened of my reaction, without having yet reacted. And on top of my inner dialogue, it's been awfully hard to ignore the tick of that biological clock when you're being invited to 1st birthdays, and baby showers, and weddings (Oh My!)

But I managed to have a conversation with my little sister who reminded me that I've done great in my 20s(frankly I can't ever remember my 20th birthday...) I managed to go back to school and get a degree. I made friends I can now call family. I took control of my health and my body. I experienced real heartache and real love. I decided on not just a job, but a career. And I managed to find a hair color that really suits me. Through this decade I did nothing but improve; I've become closer to the person I've always wanted to be.

So with that in mind, I've concentrated my energy on thinking about what the next decade will yield. What I hope the future holds. Some of those things are superficial: a new car(that black lexus I dream of,) my own place(something with a washer and dryer.) Some of those things are adventurous: a vacation to europe(Paris more specifically,) eat $100 sushi (Nobu has my name on it,) a ride in a helicopter(maybe over a Hawaiian waterfall.) Some of them are for self improvement: take a cooking class, learn how to sew. And some of those things are driven by my human nature: perhaps being with someone who wants to help build this life with me. I look ahead and hope that in this ten year period of time that lays ahead of me fractions of these hopes turn to truths. And even the smallest fraction will make me more complete. And I ask you all to join me in this journey as I walk ahead to that day where this new decade begins.

GFY

I've spent the last few minutes on myspace, and I can tell you that 1. the blogging format on that website is still my favorite. 2. I used to write really interesting blogs. 3. It's been about two years since those interesting blogs, and I regret that I'm not as interesting, and far more jaded now. I hate the circumstances that have brought me here.

When did I stop thinking I was interesting? I feel like social media websites have really put a kink on self perception. I'm so cautious about what I have to say about myself on facebook. Facebook: A website to judge others. I wish they'd just change "Friends" into "Jurors." Those people that will wonder why you spend so much time updating your status, or playing farmville, or adding pictures of yourself. Fuck that.

I also believe that no one wants to hear my ramblings because my blog has no "purpose." It's not a cooking blog, or a dating blog, it's just a living blog. Well you know what? My blogs are life, that's it. It's just happening. I'm starting to honestly believe that there's nothing bigger, no better truths. My every day dumbness is "it." That's life. And the less I catalogue it, the less I actually care about what's happening to me. And the less I care, the less I'm thankful.

I'm tired of being jaded, unthankful, and disconnected with my own world view. Fuck this.

They say, this is the city.

Los Angeles is the most exhausting city. Partially it's weather is to blame, partially it's girth. In other places there is a grace period where you can blame the temperature outside for when you choose to not leave the comforts of your home. This city makes you feel lazy when you do that. In other cities you can run out of things to do. In this city I couldn't do everything it had to offer over two or three lifetimes.

I didn't leave the house until I absolutely had to today. I felt bad because of it, for two reasons 1: oftentimes I skip my routine workout so I can run an important errand (usually weekend related) and today I didn't take part in any important errand running and 2. I skipped a workout. I have to remind myself every now and again that skipping a workout won't bring my life to a dead halt, but I do know that not taking part in a workout can ultimately lead to not taking part in a number of workouts.

The other day as I drove home I saw two interesting "Los Angelisms" that I found fascinating 1: a pair of prostitutes dancing on the corner next to a donut shop and 2: a bently (BENTLY!!!) with the license plate "BISHOP" ran the red light at the intersection of Hollywood and Highland. The two instances happened minutes apart from each other, and it really fucks with my perspective on where I am and what should be happening to me.

This weekend I'm going to play bocce ball in the park next to my apartment with a flask in hand. I'm doing it because the weather forecast says it's going to be perfect outside, and wasting Sunday hungover will feel better knowing I was doing something "outdoorsy" while I was getting to that point.

Are you afraid of the dark?

Briefly:

I used to be terrified of the night when I was little. I insisted that my older sister let me sleep with her (as I got older I learned that she, too, was afraid of the night...of the dark.) I was so afraid, and now, I work primarily in the night...in the dark. I seldomly get scared anymore. I wonder: do I not let myself get into a position to be scared, or am I smart enough to know what's real is often not scary at all, and most things that should scare us either happen instantaneously, or are long and drawn out pains that we build courage, and support so we can not be afraid. Maybe I'm not afraid because I have that. Yet, somehow knowing that I'm not scared anymore kind of scares me...

I miss writing.

Cut on Motion

I realize several things.

1. it's been a month and a half since I posted that thing about self-betterment and I can honestly tell you that I've failed at getting better. I'm sort of a hamster on a wheel right now, but replace that wheel with a couch, and put some chips in front of that hamster and you have me in the last four weeks. Not good. I have the small goal of feeling good, young and beautiful at one point in the next six months.

2. I started a Tumblr and I tend to throw all my energy into posting dumb pictures and songs on there, which isn't really what a blog is supposed to be. It's like this new loserly way of sharing your feelings. I kind of love how easy it is. I tend to think I was born in the right era because of how slovenly I am.

3. I've started working a creative job that requires me to sit alone in a room for ten hours at a time, and I find myself lonely, with a million thoughts going through my head. Last night I went home, and drank the airplane sampler sized bottle of bailey's my coworker gave me, and watched Nat-Geo (Ghost Ships of the Dead Sea...fascinating) and just couldn't stop my brain. This is a great thing, but a terrible thing when you are too lazy to find an outlet to express it all, and instead just hit the sleep timer on your tv and go to bed.

I guess the theme here is laziness. There are times in my life where I don't feel lazy at all, where I feel guided by routine, and even if there's chaos happening around me, I maintain a certain amount of control over that which needs to be taken care of in my life. This is not one of those times. I'm only about 37% in control. I have a feeling that my ideas are too big to get that percentage higher quicker. I can't be 100% in control any or all of the time. I can climb closer to that number, but I have to remind myself that it won't happen overnight like I'd like it to. So I'd like to be more in control, and I'd like to start accomplishing that soon.

Let's see where this takes us!

You don't know what you've got

I feel really positive, like change is happening...or is it going back to the a routine I liked? I'm not sure. I rejoined a gym that I had been a member of a while back, then was forced to put my membership on pause. I finally realized that I needed it in my life, because working out isn't something I'm good at doing independently. I kind of need to be told what to do when it comes to that kind of stuff. Other things in my life I'm highly self motivated at doing. I do my taxes promptly every year, and pay *most* of my bills early(well, at least on time.) But when it comes to exercise I'm generally lost in the dark. The same goes with eating well. I imagine the way I think about food is the way that alcoholics think about booze. Right now I'm well aware that there's a drawer full of chocolate, and two bags of Doritos in this office. Since I walked in today that's all I've been able to think about. I haven't touched either yet, which is a huge feat right now. I'm proud of myself, and I know that at some point tonight I'm going to eat my lean cuisine and my awful bag of carrots and broccoli, and it'll feel good. I don't want to change the way I look, really, I'm pretty happy with that(except for my hair length, I need some serious Peanut Butter Solution to make this shit grow) but I'd love to change the way I feel.

Next on the roster is cleaning my room. I'm finding it really difficult to keep my whole life in one room. It's expanding and protruding from all sides. I go to people's houses who seem to have an immaculate living situation, yet here I am with what looks like JUNK everywhere. I'm not a contender for "Hoarders" by any means, but I just am really feeling the amount of STUFF that's pressing down on my life, and my inability to really organize it in a way that makes me feel comfortable. In about three weeks a team of people are going to come to my house to replace the carpet in my room (THANK GOD) and I'll have to move everything out of it for them to do this, and it scares me to have to move all my Junk back in. I'm hoping to be able to use this time to really sort through the stuff I just don't need and manage to keep that which I really do use.

I don't think life should feel like an uphill battle, but I'm afraid some aspects of it always will. I'm always going to struggle with food, and I'm always going to want to keep all these useless things because they have some sort of sentiment to me. But I need to remind myself that it's not things that will be missed at the end of our days. It never is. Though sometimes I think "I wish I hadn't lost that other arm warmer at Disneyland...it really did go well with my fall jacket..." Oh well.