A beautiful and mysterious lady

My knee hurts. It hurts more than I'd like it to for someone who got back to the gym after a week of neglect. I cannot at all confidently state that I was on my best eating behavior during the week I was away for the holidays. I felt weighty going into it and now I can, at best, describe myself as "Holiday Husky." But it seems a superficial purpose has come along to motivate me into wanting to drop the weight. Frankly, it's not so much dropping weight, as feeling good about how I look, and right now I am not a fan. Onto the blog...

My brother just texted me to let me know that the house in Ottawa felt quiet again, now that I had left to come back to California. It's a strange moment when I'm standing in the airport. I cry because I'm sad to leave these people I love so much, yet there's a feeling of home awaiting me on the other side of my journey. Sad to leave home to go home. And I think of the home I live in here. It's quiet, I rarely play music and tend to sit on the internet for far too long, chatting and just, looking. When in Ottawa we all have time to sit and chat, and watch movies, and play games, and make houses into homes.

I'm at work, and I'm 29 years old, and I'm sitting at a desk wearing a striped purple long sleeved shirt under a t-shirt that has a picture of a cartoon robot. I wonder if that's what past me envisioned as future me? I doubt it. Thinking of this version of me, paired with the comfort I got from going home this past Christmas, I remind myself that you can only go home for so long before you have to come back and face the day to day routine that is, as Prince put it, "this thing called 'life.'" I don't like it much, sometimes, being a grownup, and that's probably why I'm wearing a shirt that has a picture of a cartoon robot on it. And sometimes I don't understand what this whole "growing up" thing even means. But it's happening and accepting it is too. I understand that everyone does it differently, but that one day it's just that. You look around, and you and your relatives, the people you've seen pass through time, all have grey hairs, and hard lines, and that's it: You're a grown up.

I think I'm going to wear a dress with polka dots on it for NYE this year, and maybe some pink tights.

A Promise...

to myself mostly.

I was just listening to my favorite podcast, This American Life. This weeks podcast was #342 How to Rest in Peace. I've thought a lot about my mortality and I'm happy to say that I've accepted that I will die, and I hope to do it peacefully, many many years from now. That's what I learned in 2009. Feelings don't change: happy will feel how it always feels, sad will feel how it always feels, and I will experience these things through my life, time and time again, reminding me what it is we live for, and I hope that life is long, but there will be an end, and when that end comes, I'll know I'll have felt it all to the best of my abilities.

BUT until that time I'm making a promise to myself that I will try harder to document it("blog" it) so that I can remember what it's like to be on this rollercoaster. This was a failed year in blogging, going stretches of two months at a time without an entry, and that is hardly enough to piece together the story of the fabulous Becky Mair.

Happy Holidays.

Cut out all the ropes and let me fall

As the seasons change, I like to change my music. Sometimes I find myself putting together cd's of 10 songs that I've known and loved for years, and other times I search for that sound I want to reflect the change I desire out of that season. Summer was a blast, this year. It started with an inkling in April to want to lighten my hair one shade lighter, and by Labor day I was a full on blonde, with the most bronze skin (read: cancer I'm sure.) A new job, and a drop in temperature reminded me it was no longer summer, but I just didn't feel up to it. There was a something missing. Had I ignored the back to school sales? And why wasn't I excited for Pumpkin lattes and apple pies? I completely missed my fantasy football draft.

About a week and a half ago I decided I was going to get into it. I ordered that goddamn pumpkin latte, and started wearing jackets over sweaters to work (it helps that my bay is -10 degrees.) I changed my sheets from a lighter spring colour to a dark fall, and resumed a diet that involved soup and crackers. And most importantly I crafted a list of songs to put on a cd that would help inspire the proper mood. Here is said list, and I hope you check out some of these songs. Some are brand new, some are new to me, some are old faithfuls, but all have made me happy.

1. Steady, As She Goes - The Raconteurs

Sometimes a song by Jack White is the epitome of the fall season to me.

2. Look At Me (When I Rock Wichoo) - Black Kids

If I could live in motion to a song, this might be it.

3. Heads Will Roll - Yeah Yeah Yeahs

There's a lot to be said about parties in the summer versus parties in the fall and winter. This song makes me think about nights out that start in the dark (not like sunny afternoon Bar-b-ques) and end with glitter on the dance floor.

4. L.E.S. Artistes - Santigold

I've just come around to hearing Santigold (though a handful of people saw her at the Bowl this summer) It reminds me of that song by Til Tuesday, Voices Carry.

5. Gimme Sympathy - Metric

"Who would you rather be? The Beatles, or The Rolling Stones?"

6. My Year In Lists - Los Campesinos!

This song reminds me of buying school supplies, passing notes in school, and sharpening new pencils to write out said lists. The new year is right around the corner, you know...

7. Empire State of Mind - Jay-Z Ft. Alicia Keys

I love a song that pays homage to a city, especially New York, a city that experiences the change of the seasons so visually. And Alicia belts out the hook so beautifully. Goddamn, I said Goddamn.

8. She-Wolf - Shakira

Halloween is coming up, and this song has disguise all over it. Aren't the costumes we wear on halloween secretly who we'd like to be all the time? Okay, maybe not...(this'll be especially funny to those of you privileged to see my costume on the 31st)

9. Skinny Love - Bon Iver

"Cut out all the ropes and let me fall"

10. Heartless - Kanye West

I threw this on here because I just felt like I needed to get in touch with the cold. This song is about a woman so heartless, and mother nature herself does that to us once a year. We know she'll be warm again, though. That's why not all of us live in Florida.

11. Many Moons - Janelle Monea

I saw Janelle in concert and she painted while she sang during one song. Fans were clamoring for the painting at the end of the song for good reason.

12. Your Heart is an Empty Room - Death Cab for Cutie

This song is a recent re-discovery. In listening to the hits of Plans, this one sort of always escaped my attention. I think of songs about Summer Love, and how this is a response to those, how after the summer, the truth sets in, and how you see so many possibilities. We are a fickle warrior, I suppose.

Buffalo Stance:

Whos that gigolo on the street
With his hands in his pockets and his crocodile feet
Hanging off the curb, looking all disturbed
At the boys from home. they all came running
They were making noise, manhandling toys
Thats the girls on the block with the nasty curls
Wearing padded bras sucking beers through straws
Dropping down their drawers, where did you get yours?

Gigolo, huh, sukka?
Gigolo. gigolo, huh, sukka?

Whos looking good today?
Whos looking good in every way?
No style rookie
You better watch dont mess with me

No moneyman* can win my love
Its sweetness that Im thinking of.
We always hang in a buffalo stance
We do the dive every time we dance
Ill give you love baby not romance
Ill make a move nothing left to chance
So dont you get fresh with me

Get funky. yeah timmy.
Tell it like it is. check out this dj.

So you say you wanted money but you know its never funny
When your shoes worn through and theres a rumble in your tummy
But you had to have style get a gold tooth smile
Put a girl on the corner so you can make a pile
Committed a crime and went inside
It was coming your way but you had to survive
When you lost your babe, you lost the race
Now youre looking at me to take her place.

Whos looking good today?
Whos looking good in every way?
No style rookie
You better watch dont mess with me

Smokin. not cokin. get funky sax.
Looking good, hanging with the wild bunch.
Looking good in a buffalo stance.
Looking good when it comes to the crunch
Looking goods a state of mind
State of mind dont look behind you
State of mind or youll be dead
State of mind may I remind you
Bomb the bass...rock this place!
What is he like? whats he like anway?
Yo man what do you expect the guys a gigolo man
You know I mean?

No moneyman can win my love
Its sweetness that Im thinking of.
We always hang in a buffalo stance
We do the dive every time we dance
Ill give you love baby not romance
Ill make a move nothing left to chance
So dont you get fresh with me

Wind on my face, sound in my ears
Water from my eyes, and you on my mind
As I sink, diving down deep...deeper into your soul.

*I always thought she said monkeyman.

Direction is irrelevant

I am sitting in a very cold room. There are a great number of negative things I could say about this room, and why I'm sitting here, and what it means to be sitting here, but the only negative I'll dwell on is that it is cold, and the cold is making me unpleasant. But not unpleasant enough to make me unfriendly, or difficult to be around, or at least I hope it doesn't. I, like many people, like to think of myself as an easy going member of the community, who is enjoyable to be around, and can be valued, and even cherished. These are the hopes I would have for my personality. Sometimes I feel like personality can be detached from ourselves, like it's a thing that lingers above our heads. It isn't though. 

I often wonder how many people don't like me. People who have met me and decided they didn't need me in their life, that my personality, the one attached to me, was one they could do without. I wonder why they could do without it, and remember that no one can like everyone all the time. It's just the way it is. I certainly don't like everyone. Hell, as I get older, I like having fewer and fewer people around me. I guess that's why I feel so lucky when I'm with the handful of people I love, because they've chosen to spend the little time they have on God's green earth with little old me. It's a strange thing to conceptualize, the choice of what to do with the fleeting minutes of our lives. So often we're "bored" or "lonely" or reaching to do something interesting, when in reality just being should be good enough. 

For now I'm just going to be cold in this room and be happy with that. 

I am still living with your ghost

A few months back I made it my personal mission to write a blog once a day for a week. I hoped that it would renew some sort of desire to write, having found it difficult to adjust to the new blog format I had chosen. It clearly didn't work. I went 2 months without writing anything until today, and I'm not proud of it. The truth is, I just haven't had much to say. 

I wonder why that is? why I could go months and months and months at a time where I almost had to blog twice a day, to now barely being able to string sentences together? Maybe I should start out small and work my way up to something with a little more content. 

Starting small I can say that I went to Boston on a whim and had no idea what I was in for, and in the middle of a Saturday I found myself sitting under a shady tree, eating a falafel with a great friend, in the grass of Boston Common. It was the second time this year where I found myself in that space, in Boston Common experiencing a very magical moment, and there was this sense of ease. I realize that this feeling has been more and more frequent in my life. It's rewarding and tells me I'm doing something right with my life. I might be single, and jobless right now, but I'm not lost, broke or alone. And I'm certainly not unhappy. 

Harder to Get Out Of

I'm not entirely sure if I've become better at my new job and I'm finishing projects faster, or I've begun to settle into the routine of it. But just like that *poof* it's going to be over in a number of days, and I'll be back at what always feels like square one. I'm not as prepared for unemployment as I should be, but I have a feeling, like most of my stints, it won't last too long.

I have this undeniable feeling that I'm missing something. Like the feeling of a phantom limb. As if there's a portion of my life that I'm seriously neglecting or missing. Bills, work, friends: I seem to be on top of it, but I can't quite help but feel like someone, or something out there needs me, and I don't even know it. I do know that I have a stack of emails that I, at one point in time, intended to respond to, one being my childhood friend, with whom I haven't had correspondence with since I was 11-years-old. She's a graphic designer somewhere in Quebec  now. It's strange, but it isn't really, that most of my closest friends while I was growing up moved on to do something creative with their lives. It makes me so happy to hear that. It makes me so proud to be a part of that. 

Sometimes I wish I was more contributive, and less creative. I've been watching The West Wing lately and it serves as a reminder that there is a group of people far more intellectual than me, that have ever right to laugh when I tell them what I do. "We create the laws and policies you live by, and dictate the way in which this country moves" they could say. I am envious, because I know that, even if I did feel I had the brain capacity to take part in this, I wouldn't have the drive or the stamina to be a part of that culture. It's a shame really. I shouldn't complain, though. I take part in something that makes millions of people happy (or irritated, I don't know, really. I would have to watch non biased people watch the show...)

In completely unrelated news: Jessica Simpson bought Tony Romo a boat for his birthday. A BOAT. I don't know why this makes me roll my eyes as hard as I can, maybe because she's no longer relevant yet still has the money to buy her boyfriend a $100,000 boat. I guess if I were her i'd want to do the same thing. After all, love is fleeting, and she knows this. She had to see pictures of her ex having sex with some MTV VeeJay in an infinity pool. I've decided to limit my crushes to a week MAX. Not worth letting emotions get out of control and in the way of bigger and better things, really. Compton's already claimed the week of June 29th. I wonder what Katty Kay and her Womenomics have to say about that? 

Like I never needed love before

I had to buy a new air freshner for my car. I choose the one that hangs over my mirror now for two reasons 1. it was a pink dolphin 2. the scent advertised was "Love Spell." For your information, Love Spell is similar smelling to all designer impostor perfumes that you can buy at the dollar store. I didn't realize love was so cheap. 

This just started playing on my iTunes: 

When I was 17 there was a big part of me that was too embarrassed to admit to liking the Spice Girls. Now, at 28, I regret not having gone to their "reunion" tour. I love losing that "cool," because it makes me feel so much cooler. I know that doesn't make much sense, but releasing that fear of other people's opinions, and just loving what you love is so satisfying. I loved the new Star Trek movie. I thought it was great, and fun, and I'm probably going to see it again, and I'm unapologetic for thinking that, though Karl Urban might have been over the top, I enjoyed every minute of his version of "Bones" McCoy. I have plans to see Ghosts of Girlfriends' Past, and truth be told, I'll probably like that one just as much (so long as Matthew McCone-unspellablelastname-ghey and Jennifer Garner end up together in the end *fingers crossed*) 

Button on my Tongue

You made me laugh today without even knowing it. Not a loud belly laugh, or a coy blush, but a genuine laugh. I could feel it in my heart. I could feel it in my gut. Guts...that's a funny word. 

I listen to this soft sweet music right now. It makes me want to dance in a cotton dress, barefoot in the grass and under the stars, with this hot wind whipping around me, my hair dancing to its own rhythm. I'm happy to be able to say that I do remember the last time my toes felt the grass between them. Now if only I could remember the last time my toes felt the sand. 

My hands are a mess. I can't stop biting and peeling the skin off them. I gnaw at my nails constantly. I suppose it's an attempt to cool my jets. I know I'm nervous about the new job. I can't tell how I'm doing because the feedback seems to always be positive in this industry, no matter what they might be saying when you're not around. One day I'm going to bite away the fingerprints.

to make sentences

I see the future like a stained glass window with no design. The broken pieces of glass come to represent fragments of my life put together in a portrait making up an abstract whole. This whole means something. It's something different to everyone who looks at it: a past, a present a future. It's beautifully put together for some, horribly arranged for others. I feel the dryness on my fingers, but the moisture on my body. It's a reminder that I feel anything at all. The soothing sounds of drums and voices envelope me as I think about the smell of that perfume I apply to the backs of my legs for you. I dream of India, of Egypt. Of linen fabrics draped over windows keeping the sun out, and the cool in. Your eyes sparkle a blue frost over me, acting as the breeze through that fabric does, running through my hair, over my shoulders, lovingly across my face. You see the red in my cheeks. I know you see it because I see the red in yours. "I need you here, this night" in the desert heat. 

I tuck the rock back into my pocket and do not throw it into the lake. This one I save. I save knowing that I shouldn't; it is meant to get lost at the bottom with the others. It's smoothness settles, and it is unique. It is mine. 

Super Delicious

I live a charmed life filled with jewel tones and happy thoughts. It's an amazing life, and I never forget how blessed I am. I do, however, forget the people around me, and how they aren't always full of love, like myself. 

I'm turning 29 this year. I've already accepted two things: 1. I don't like it, and 2. I can't stop it. I've begun to tell myself that I am, in fact, 29. There are a lot of things I thought I would be when I was 29, and single wasn't one of them. But it's ok because everything else about it is superdelicious. By the end of my 29th year I'll have paid off my car, finished my 5th year of consistent employment within the entertainment industry, I will have lived in Los Angeles for a little more than 9 years, and hope to have a nest egg larger than I could have dreamed of when I was working retail. I have a handful of friends and family who have proven to want to do anything for me. I think that I have to take a few minutes of my time to write this all down so that I can remember that when that time comes, when I begin that 29th year, I make sure to keep these quintessential truths of my life in tact and be able to be there for the people who have been with me year after year. Them being there for me has made me who I am. I don't want to let them down because, in the end, I would be letting myself down. 

I hope you all know how thankful I am for you. How greatful. And if you don't, please tell me how I can show you. 

Small Talk

I asked myself 'what I would say if someone asked me "What are you up to these days?"' That answer probably shouldn't be said out loud, but it makes me laugh, so here it is: 

Well, I've been wearing high heels and spring clothing, avoiding having to do my hair nicely considering my bangs looked good for a total of 15 seconds after I got them cut, and now I don't know what to do with them. I've been trying to figure out how to use skype so I can call Canada and stop feeling guilty about being so cheap when I don't. This has proven to be more difficult than I thought (sometimes I don't know how I got a job in a tech field at all.) I've been avoiding any responsibility at work, looking at internet dresses I don't buy. And am fairly certain this man and I are going to meet and fall in love one day. It really is only a matter of time. I've also been avoiding drinking water, and my workout schedule is pretty lax. I am not proud of either of these things.  

20 Seconds to Comply

I'm not entirely sure I have anything to say. I certainly don't have anything to do. I feel like announcing to the office "So my mom was Catholic once upon a time, therefore I should leave so I can properly pay my respects to Good Friday." I, of course, would leave and go to the gym. That's not appropriate.  

Instead  I've managed to NOTHING for about 2 hours. It's fine. I know that there are points in my job life where I'll be busier, so I shouldn't feel the guilt that comes with sitting at my desk, looking up pictures of cute boys on the internet, and listening to old Xtina *shrug* 

I've dressed as if I'm going to a sock hop after work. I kind of wish this were true. Doesn't it seem like "times were easier" back then? Like, you go to dances, listen to the radio, go to bed early, wear big skirts and tight t-shirts, and your hair in a pony tail while you drink milkshakes with your boyfriend, unaware of calories, and cancer, and all those poisons we're hyper aware of now. I know that life wasn't really like that. But, man, do I wish it was. I suppose we learned, over time, that the picture perfect wasn't all it was cracked up to be, and we had movements and revolutions, and sociology, and technology pushed us forward, making sure no one's innocence was spared, and all bubbles burst. And we assume that life is better now that we know, and everything is laid out on the table. 

Perhaps there was some comfort in the unknown. I doubt it, though. 

Still Downloading Your Music

I've been thinking a lot about the term "giving up" lately, and what it really means. Well, rather, how it's put into practice. I tend to try not to give up. There is no satisfaction, only regret when we give up on things. And a life filled with regret is a life of heavy thoughts and empty hearts. But sometimes you're forced into giving up because the outcome you desire is not tangible. Not getting what I want is a concept I try to keep foreign, but I know deep down inside what I think I want, what I know I want, and what I can have don't always live on the same plain, and acknowledging that is the first step to walking away from that regret and filling up the holes in your heart by finding the proper caulk, if you excuse a giggle inducing metaphor. 

I watch a lot of Lost and last week there was a discussion about time being linear. I have always accepted that our lives were on a timeline heading in the same direction. If we consider just time alone being the definer of this timeline, it's true. Minutes, hours, days pass by and we all move with them, not really toward anything, we just move forward. But beyond time, we move in so many directions. Some of us continue to move forward, but some of us move back, at different speeds and lengths. And some of us move everywhere, all the time. For a while I think I was forcing myself to move in one direction. I had tunnel vision and could see a light ahead of me that I thought I wanted to break through to. But I was derailed, and I looked to my right and my left, and I saw something. It was like a thousand holes poked through a black piece of paper. I saw light. It will always be up to me to break through any one of those holes, or to choose not to.  But that I know the holes exist means that I'm already ahead of the curve. 

Find your holes. 

C'mon C'mon

Everything feels so sureal. Like tomorrow I'm going to forget that I have to get up, and drive to the airport, and park my car, and check into an airline, and get on a plane, and go. I know I'm not driving to work tomorrow. I packed my bags, and the clothing I'm bringing feels random and arbitrary. I'd say minimalist, but the colors are bright, and the combinations bizarre, enough to question myself over and over again: "are you sure you know what's about to happen?" I guess none of us really do know for sure. I am going to take a moment to set my alarm clock immediately. 

O.K. I've written several paragraphs and erased them, realizing that I don't know what to say next. None of it has kept me interested, but I really like  that the ideas and words were put into the world and now they're floating over my head. And I am the only one who knows what they said and that they really existed. Those things I wrote, were they about you? And if they were, were they positive, or negative? Can you hear what I have to say, or are you standing naked in the dark, wondering if I give a damn? 

I probably don't give a damn. 

 

Juicy Fruit

Emotions give me a headache. No wonder people seek out Xanax and lobotomies. Xanax, I've learned(though not through personal use) will kill your libido, and your desire to have sex won't return for six months until after you've stopped taking it. I find it hard to believe a life where I didn't want to have sex. Needless to say, I am not taking Xanax, instead I'm drinking diet coke and taking advil. I'm sure they're made up of the same ingredients. The last text I received read "advil is magic and it tastes like candy." True Facts. 

Work is generally better than the average job. I know this because I've had average jobs, and they don't pay you well, you don't get free soda, and there are no dance parties. But today I can't seem to get away from the desire to not want to be here, despite barely having any work. I now turn to a list of places I would rather be: 

In a hammock on the beach in Hawaii

In my sleep number bed, finally finishing those Goddamn vampire books 

Shopping at H&M 

Lake swimming

Sitting in a clean hottub 

Under a tree at the park finishing Revolutionary Road

At a small theater watching The Big Lebowski and eating Milk Duds and Popcorn

On a gondola ride in Venice 

Eating cheese and drinking wine in the French country side 

Making out/having sex with someone who knows what they're doing 

Those are just the highlights. 

This Ain't no Disco

Today I got my haircut next to a handsome man who said he worked in Mutual Funds. I laughed at myself when I realized I had no idea what that meant, but admired his beautiful face through the mirror unabashedly as I changed the frequency.  Instead, I tuned in to listen to the stylist who told me about his last visit to a wal-mart back home in Phoenix where he saw a man dressed as Santa wheeling around the store on a motorized scooter as children asked to sit on his lap and request gifts for Christmas. We laughed together, Travis and I. My haircut went well, and now my face is properly framed. I drove through Hollywood, accidentally turning up Curson. Silly girl, Curson doesn't meet up with Franklin. I turn too early. And I try to turn soft and lovely any time I have the chance. Making very calculated plans, and eating a sandwich, I dreaded, but yet prepared, and it worked out just find because I found center. There is some strength in my core muscles. Finally. 8 weeks in. Later I giggled over frozen yogurt, and gossip, and didn't have to prove a smile, because it was there all along. The combination of green tea, mango and strawberries was divine, and I couldn't get enough, but knew I couldn't get anymore. And that day I drove up the street until the sun came up over Santa Monica Boulevard. 

Hyper Drive

Today I listen to Motown. It is my favorite thing to do. It reminds me that no one knows anything about anything when it comes to dealing with human emotions, least of all, Diana Ross. 

I got new tires for my car this weekend. It is officially no longer a death trap, but a money pit. I hope to get a good detailing, and then be finished with car maintenance for a while. It's a good little car, the new tires helped to remind me of that. I also got my nails done at the same time. They looked rough going in, and I think are on the way to being ready for spring. I don't know why this matters, I really don't, but for some reason, yesterday afternoon, it did. Maybe just to remind me that I, too, am a good little car. 

This blog is a dud. I'll try again tomorrow. 

The Week

A lot can happen in a week. Lives can change. Stephanie pointed out that you could be alive on monday and be buried by Thursday. The matter that makes up your body would be underground for as long as time. Not me, though. I want you to burn my body. 

I wish there were more reminders that life is so precious. I doubt there ever will be. "Live life to the fullest" they say. Who are they that are able to retain this? I think I've been successful to live a pretty full life. I wonder, though, what it takes to remember how to maintain that fullness indefinitely. Can you? Or do you settle? It seems like a lot of people settle. Is settling the right thing to do? Have I just not realized this? Whatever. In a week it could all be over. I'd hate to have the same last week over and over and over again in anticipation of the end. 

Upkeep

I find it hard to wear high heels every day. Well I don't find it physically hard. Yes, heels take a toll on your feet, and leg muscles, but you get used to it. And secretly we know that our legs look so much better because of those heels. As Brad Pitt once said "The body acclimates." I find it difficult to feel comfortable being that girl who wears high heels everyday. I work in a casual industry and I tend to dress down. Jeans, cute T, nice sneakers, makeup: it works. I find I have to talk myself into wearing heels knowing that when I do people are going to react differently. But isn't that what I want? To get a reaction?

Oddly, I don't think I'm waiting for you to tell me how hot my legs look in my high heels. I think I'm just excited to get to wear them. So I'm going to try and wear them more often. Not for you. For me. 

Hit you like a truck.

**Please note that for the next week I will be attempting to write one blog a day. Wish me luck. 

I went to a cafe last night. It was the shape of a boat that appeared to be docked on dry land and was Titanic themed. There were pictures of Kate and Leo all over the walls. How interesting. The menu was almost entirely in Korean except for a section of smoothies (we stuck to getting those instead of adventuring on the other side of the menu.) It was almost sensory overload, had my senses not needed to be touched so bad. 

It's strange what a random night out can do for you; the insight it can offer into your personality. I still get shy around strangers who talk to me in bars. Shy and defensive, and I wonder what they want. I wonder their intent. Sometimes it's nothing more than to have a conversation with someone new. And deep down I know that I want to hear from there. It's rare that I seek out to talk to new people, and I see that as a major character flaw. I have to be led the way to talking to someone most times. I find I have spent a lifetime surrounding myself with louder personalities than myself to make up for that. And I love these boisterous people. They make me happy, and they fill the void. Now I think the next step is to learn something from them. 

the bulbs never opened quite fully

In Quills the Marquis explains how he writes of the world: "I write of the great, eternal truths that bind together all mankind. The whole world over, we eat, we shit, we fuck, we kill, and we die."  I think about those animalistic qualities all humans seem to share. It's all very carnal. And I wonder how it relates to our emotions. Despite the physical needs, the fornication, the hunger, I think about the way we have grown to need to feel. Twitter, facebook, myspace, these social networks make us reach out more to one another everyday through a universe we can't touch. Touch, and presence is a part of emotion and humanity, though, and eventually the unseen universe needs to step aside, and let real life take its course, I suppose. I wonder if in the future people will learn to connect the two. I hope not. I like being in real time. 

Someone recently described me as being "ballsy" and having had a sense of adventure that most people wouldn't, or couldn't have. This had come after I felt a great loss, and it really helped to pick me up. I sit at my computer, wondering how to make it better, to get out of the rut, without even realizing that there might not be a rut at all. Daily I reach out and share emotions with people around me, and connect to them in ways most people can't, and I am really happy about that because there was a time in my life where I felt that I could never find that at all. I'm glad to have broken through my personal unseen universe. 

I just have to remember to buy myself flowers, though. 

Thinking of my heart.

It's unbelievable how fragile my heart is. I say it's unbelievable, but I have rarely let it get into situations where it could be bruised or broken. And even then, I take preventative measures knowing that if something were to happen, I can't blame any responsibility on my heart or the fated breaker of said heart. You're heart won't get hurt if you have a wall around it. 

But the truth is that you can't build a wall that will last. Time tears it down. The wall I build is made of a certain dishonesty. It's not a lie I tell myself, but rather the holding back of the truth. I seldom tell the people I love, and care for, how I really feel, and therefore can only blame myself when they walk away. Sad. 

I can't be responsible for people walking away from me. I can be responsible for not doing more for them while they were in front of me, but it's someone's choice to walk away from me. And it hurts every time. But if there is a master plan, and something to learn, I'm hoping that it will make me appreciate and understand the world better. But when it first happens, being a part of the world is the last thing this little heart wants. 

The mundane might be the most exciting stuff

I want to change my facebook status every 15 minutes. I know this means one thing: I should be blogging. 

I'm still sick. I'm in denial about it, and have been all week, but I should probably go to the doctor at some point and make sure I don't have something stupid like walking pnemonia, or bronchitis. Before I know it I'll be that Brazillian model, and you'll have to amputate my hands. Sad. 

Work is going well. I like days. I don't work out as much though. Well I've been sick, for one, and that hasn't helped. I've also been working 6 day work weeks. I'm really excited for that to be over. Putting together a normal schedule should soon follow, though I have to say working days I'm finding it harder to do the same things I did when I worked nights. I don't know, time seemed more selfish. I would wake up when I wanted, left the house when I could, drove against the traffic, and ran all my errands during the day. I could have gone to the doctor and have this cold out of me by now. Instead I find myself just wrestling with very little time to do anything. 

Yesterday I had a great moment of reflection. I had just come back from a trip to Target where I had bought myself a bunch of things I kind of, sort of needed. I made dinner and tidied up a few things in the apartment (though created a pile of dishes I didn't tackle.) I climbed in bed and just had a moment of Zen where it was all so easy. My life is easy, and pleasing, and I don't regret being able to lead it. We are the lucky ones, aren't we? 

My Heart is in Your Teeth

"Listening to old Jewel albums reminds me that being a crazy girl is normal." - Becky Mair via chat with Lindsay Ringwald

This never ends does it? How is it that after having my period for almost 18 years I still have no control of my emotions the week before it happens? Even worse, I forget, every time, the potential of my senility. Other women know; we respect it, we know a crazy bitch when we see one and our bodies know that the only way to sympathize is to hop on their cycle (or for them to hop on ours) thus removing ourselves out of any dangerous path. I just want to be used to it, and instead I take the wave and I ride it. 

I'm feeling particularly crazy lately. I've been dieting, working days. I was exercising but that was thwarted by my getting the plague. I rarely equate being sick with being unhappy. I have always been one to handle it in stride, but lately I don't want to handle it. I just want it to go away. I want to be independent. I can't do that when I feel helpless and PMSing. DAMMIT. The rage is overwhelming, isn't it?! I guess it could be worse. I could be the one to have to convince everyone to sign over a bailout bill that will have my, my children, and my children's childrens' taxes go toward saving irresponsible companies. Thank God I'm not smart enough for that job. I'm barely smart enough for this one, it feels lately. 

At least I learned today that sushi can be a low fat food. And that the R Kelly Ignition Remix still makes me feel good. 

I hear lies. Every fucking day.

I hate that feeling I can get sometimes. The feeling that all this time I've been lying to myself about how good I look to make myself feel good, so I can get through day to day and not fall off any sort of wagon. What is the truth? Is it that this all doesn't matter because we're going to die one day, or be sick, and hurt, and suffer, and that feeling of loneliness I felt while I was sitting in Bay 1 looking at hideous pictures from the past weekend is totally moot? Am I lying because I know it doesn't matter, or am I lying because it matters so much and the truth hurts? 

I just don't know. 

Fatty fatty two-by-four

I don't know if I look heavy, but I feel it. I feel like I've gained weight over the holiday season, and I can't shake it. I feel like whenever I'm around food, I can't help myself but eat it. I went out to both dinner and lunch today, and though I made OK choices, but I know better than to eat out twice. I buy "healthy alternative" snacks but eat them entirely on my own. I run, I run a lot, but I eat, I eat a lot. And there is no counter balancing, it seems. My belt goes from the average hole I wear it on to the looser, instead of the average and the tighter. I feel like I'm busting out of my skin. Like ripping at the seams. All my outside the house activities deal with food, as do the lounging in doors activities. People have stopped telling me I look good. This breaks me the most. 

And the scary thing about it all is that I'm comfortable most days. When I'm eating I'm unapologetic. I do it blindly. And now I sit here terrified, afraid at the mistake I'm making. I'm afraid of seeing myself slowly turn into that fat girl again. I hate that fat girl. She's miserable and lonely and who wants to be that? Not me. I just don't know how to change it. I've done it before, but I don't know how to get it under control. I forget, and I need help. 

I need HELP. 

Gather

I need to make a list. A list of things I would like to accomplish over the next two weeks while I have time to accomplish those things. I've already begun to really clean out my room. I feel like it's only a few carefully planned out organizing sessions away from being what I'd like it to be. My closet needs some rearranging, but before I can do that I would like to buy some storage bins to be able to accomplish neatness. My goal is to have everything in the closet placed in a way that I can pull it out easily without having to put it in something else to move it. 

Here is said list: 

Place DVD's in storage containers to better organize closet

Do laundry 

Vacuum already 

Find a way to better organize the makeup/hair accessories 

place clothes in an order that makes sense

Wash bathroom rugs

Clean out/Wash car  

Get oil change 

Run at least three times a week 

Finish watching season 4 of Lost 

Play Video Games and relax!!! 

I've already put a lot of pressure on myself to get a bunch of stuff done over the next two weeks, and on top of that I'll be going to Vegas in the middle of my vacation. At first I wasn't sure I wanted to go, but I haven't been in a good 7 months and what a better time to spend forced time off. I need to just relax, and enjoy that I have time off now to prepare for a long stretch of work where I'll be making a decent chunk of change. I think if I just keep organized, and I let myself be aware of what I want this living space to feel like I'll be fine. Maybe I'll even come up with an art project or two to make the room feel more lived in. We'll see! 

It was just a suggestion.

Every once in a while I get that sense of loneliness and solitude. Like I'm an island, and the mainland is off somewhere chatting about me; a bunch of girls gossiping about how they think I'm ok, but they don't really like me, or want to like me. I'd like to say that this feeling is unique, but I'm fairly certain we've all experienced it before. 

When I have this feeling, my urge is to assume that I've done something to annoy people, and I should probably step off the scene for a while. I had that sense today. I felt like I misread a tone, and suddenly I couldn't tell who my friends were, who my enemies were, and who might fit that grey "frenemies" category. You know, the people you're friends with, only so long as you have to be, but you know that once you're not together you assume they are saying something about your behavior, or your hair-do, and they just don't give themselves to you in a way that you can trust. But it's ok because you don't give yourself to them either: there's just something so fake about the relationship. And no one's at fault. We can't give ourselves to each other all the time. If we could all be friends, then we wouldn't have to conceptualize world peace. 

As I get older the circle of people I trust gets smaller, but more intimate and loving. I don't let anyone in right away like I used to, and new relationships develop far less often, and a whole lot slower. I'm ok with this, and part of the trepidatious feelings I felt earlier may have come from realizing that I had put too much faith in a friendship that hadn't quite been fully formed or realized yet. I think I'd like to put more effort into realizing the source of hurt feelings, and make sure my personal journey doesn't get tripped up by someone else's lack of knowledge about me. Or their lack or caring, for that matter. I am what I am. I love who I love. I do what I can. And I'd like to succeed. 

Refract

I spend far too much time on a social networking site. I'm not too proud of this. I've become obsessed with the actions of the people I'm friends with, and I can note things about folks I haven't seen in over ten years. I've noticed that I've begun to misinterpret people's tone. I forget what they sound like in real life, and what implications the sentence they write might have. Sometimes I take things too seriously, and some things not serious enough. 

I read someone's status and it said "___ has fallen in love." and I thought "Wow, good for her..." Then I thought about this person, and it seemed highly unlikely for them to write something so serious, and so bold. I realized that I took what I had read and made it sound how I wanted it to. Or how I liked how it sounded. 

I've done a lot of keeping myself in check lately. I serious necessity. I can't let my heart get away with my head. I need my head to make sure not to screw things up. I like how I am, and I don't think I should have to compromise it. My tone of voice should be the same out loud as it is on the page. I don't know if that makes any sense at all.