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.

I wish I were as good at life as I am at my job

What up January? Yeah, it's me, Becky, calling. Do you remember me saying that 2010 was going to be our year? Yeah it was. But guess what, there are 5 days left in you and you've managed to make it feel like 2010 is going to be WORSE than 2009! How are you letting that happen? There have been multiple missteps, speed bumps. A serious shame attack, seven day work weeks, a terrible cold, five days straight of rain in Los Angeles, dental surgery? The number of "Thank You" notes I've had to write in 2010 are staggering. And don't even try to begin to convince me that these things are "Character building." It's bullshit. Well, I'm calling to let you know that you can make it up to me on the last three days of the month. Yup, you guessed it. You'll be making sure that my three days in San Francisco are completely fabulous as compensation for the severe shittiness of the rest of the month of January. You have the chance to save some face here.

Oh and stop playing so much Sigur Ros when I put my iPod on shuffle in the car. I get it, life is sweetly sad and deserves a painful soundtrack right now. And I can never keep track of the umlaut's and the number of "h's" in my favorite songs and you just want to remind me which ones are worth listening to, but I don't need to know just how sad it should feel to be every third song . Every 13th or 14th is just fine, and you can even keep throwing in that Radiohead as a bookend, but still, every 3rd is excessive.

December was SO good, and I have a calendar that says February will be the same as December, so why did you suck so goddamn hard, January? You sucked like you could actually figure out how many licks it took to get to the center of that tootsie pop. I hate you, and I'm hanging up now.

Oral Hijinx

Dr. Shanklin, my dentist (while working on my teeth:) You're watching me work through the reflection in my glasses...

Becky: *mmmhhhhmmmm*

Dr. Shanklin: I used to think all the young girls were looking deep into my eyes while I worked on their teeth. Then I realized that all the old guys were doing the same thing.

Becky: *mmahahahahahamm*

I want to be James Franco

It's funny how something I myself wrote is therapy enough. I can make myself happy. That's what my blog is telling me. So now that I have feelings of despair, and humility I have to remember that it's me myself and I, thats all I got in the end.

I went to the dentist today and that made me happy. I got two fillings done, and was told that eventually a few of my other fillings would have to be replaced. It was a lot cheaper than expected, and for the first time in a long time someone told me something about my health that I felt like I could trust, and I was doing something good to take care of myself. This is an important feeling for me. It is a reminder that I have some sort of desire for self preservation.

I've been intent on writing about James Franco. He's everywhere lately. It's fantastic. Soap Operas, 30 Rock, SNL, he's just putting himself out there, and he doesn't care what you think of the medium he's using. It's important to see him having fun doing all of this. It's a good lesson to us all that we shouldn't take ourselves too seriously. I mean it wasn't even a year ago that I watched him in Milk and was blown away by the seriousness and tone of what he brought to such an important role. I think back to the series finale of Freaks and Geeks where he plays D&D with the geeks and his Dwarf Carlos helps win the game. That scene was just a glimpse of how strange, and interesting, and versatile that this pretty boy could be. Not everyone likes him, I know, but damn, it's hard not to respect him right now.

The Word "Deadline" isn't real, except if you're really dead

I have 15 minutes to write something down.

This weekend was a failure in food. In fact, since I wrote the last entry I haven't had much success with food at all (read: A lot of chocolate at work, 2nd plate of buffet appetizers at wedding, mini donuts.) But I have had major success with working out. In fact today was the only day in which I did not tie on those pesky running shoes. I intend to tie them on tomorrow as well.

I was introduced to a wonderful new TV series by my favorite TV Diva Renita Jenkins today. It's a british comedy about a woman who is finding her way after the death of her husband. Clatterford is subdued yet hilarious and engaging. After spending the whole weekend with some of my favorite girl friends, I thought of something Stephanie once said to me about The Golden Girls. She said "I like to think that when we get old, it's like The Golden Girls, and you live with some of your best girl friends and you still get to go on adventures, and laugh together, and have fun." I hear that women last longer than men, so God willing.

I went to a beautiful wedding on Saturday and had little tears of jealousy that it wasn't my own; just tiny ones. At the same time I danced, and wore a dress like a glove, and had my hair blown out and felt pretty well...pretty! And as I was in my car later I smiled about how easy it is to make myself happy. Not only can I do this, but I AM DOING IT right now. Smiling. Listening to music. Wearing my nice hat every day.

Burn your nice candles, and use your nice soap because eventually they get dusty and dirty, and are purposeless, and to waste if you don't.

4 minutes left.

Salt and Pepper

I began to read someone else's blog and was so bored, it made me realize that what I really wanted to be doing was writing my own. Hello 2010.

So after the holidays I wanted to bog down and start getting in shape. I am unfit. My clothing is tight. I am displeased with the way I look in real life and in pictures. I am unsatisfied with my self. I was hoping the tides would turn after the clock struck midnight, and it was good so far, until I fell down with The Plague. The night before I fell ill I managed to clean the bins in my closet that I wanted to, and I stayed in on a Friday night, not forcing my self out and about. But Saturday came and I hadn't been that sick in a long while. All exercise was out the window. My ability to function existed solely to get me to work and to home. I was good, and I didn't eat too poorly, and resting helped me get better quicker, I think.

Now, today, I had my great return to the gym. And it felt like a failure, though any time you get into the gym should be counted as a success, because today my knee really hurt after only 15 minutes of running. Discouraging. When did this happen and what can I do about it? I'm going to find a knee brace and keep running. It seems to plateau with pain, and then it's just a matter of endurance. But there was a point in time where I could run for 3 hours and not bat an eyelash. 15 minutes shouldn't feel like death.

Anyhoo, I'm thinking the following things have to happen to get me into shape.

1. NO MORE SNACKING AT WORK - I do this constantly. In fact tonight someone had an open bag of salt and pepper chips and I had several handfuls. And I can't be in denial about all of this snacking either. FESS UP TO SNACKING AT WORK.

2. CONTINUE AN EXERCISE REGIME - Especially on the weekends. I had stopped attending Weekend Runs because this job has been so taxing on my inner clock. But a Saturday nap post run is better than just waking up and not having worked out at all. I hope to also get back into Yoga, hiking, and keep up with ice skating. BE ACTIVE.

3. LAY OFF THE BINGE EATING ON THE WEEKENDS - I eat pretty well during the week but on the weekends it's become a free for all. A 3000 calorie day on a Saturday doesn't help anyone look better.

4. FEEL GOOD ABOUT IT - if I don't feel good about the process I'm not going to keep it up.

5. DRINK LESS - yeah less beer, less fruity drinks. Simple.

The thing is, I feel like I've done all these things, over and over and over again. And my life gets so busy with doing all these things to take care of myself and I can't remember what "me time" is. And then when suddenly I take "me time" and "french fry time" all my work is ruined. It's a life long battle, isn't it?

Resolve and Be a Man

My resolution this year is to make a cheesecake. And to consolidate my makeup bins to make more room in my closet for the crap I've accumulated. I'm going to keep the resolution I made last year, as I believe resolutions should really be ongoing until you've managed perfection, and we all know that perfection is unattainable. I do believe I could make a perfect cheesecake. I'm thinking a white chocolate raspberry cheesecake.

I had a good day yesterday. I cried a hearty cry, the kind where you're afraid you won't be able to stop. Videotape by Radiohead came on the stereo and I was in deep thought, thinking of my mothers friend Damien. He passed away in October. He had diabetes and had stubbed his toe, I think. His injury was mistreated and to make a long story short, he passed away unexpectedly. I thought of my mother, how this man was her dear friend, and a date, and sometimes companion, and how she might have felt like this man was going to be there for her, a new love, and how fleeting life is. I know what a broken heart feels like, and how hopeless it can seem, but how much worse it must feel when neither person is responsible for the loss. It makes me scared to try and love someone new. It makes me afraid that love isn't even out there.

I hate to admit it, but I don't know what to do next.

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?