Distraction

I am going to deal with this the only way I know how . . .

Life is so mysterious. It's a sort of sad day in the life of me today.

Let me start out by saying that I do not believe this is because of one boy or one incident. It would seem foolish and superficial of me to write what has happened to me off as just a reaction to being rejected. The truth of the matter is, I was fooling myself into being interested in someone for lack of anyone else to be interested in. I was attracted to him, but I think that's where it began and ended. I was foolish and this has taught me, once again, that attraction does not make a bond or, obviously, a relationship. For some people, but not me, being physical with someone is reserved for a relationship only. There is no such thing as just hooking up or dating and having fun. That is fine and I'd like to have less superficial relationships with the opposite sex, but alas, I have to take what I can get and give. So far, that has been my experience.

If you're still reading this post, I applaud you. I have gone way off the track from my original aim. This isn't about relationships or my sad song about the lack thereof. This is about my mortality.

I blacked out/passed out this morning for the first time in my life. The causes remain varied and obscure- I had worked out pretty heavily yesterday morning, I didn't eat enough during the day and I drank a couple of drinks on a fairly empty stomach pretty hasitly. I'd been feeling sick all day and out of it for the past couple of days and I guess it all caught up with me in that moment.

That moment is the one where he basically told me it was all in my head and that he wasn't interested in a relationship, or anything it turns out, at all. Wow, how can this be happening to me again under such different circumstances?

And in that moment, I didn't want his love or his arms around me. I wanted . . .I don't know. I wanted some Truth, I guess. but not his truth.

While I was talking to him, the world slowly went to black starting with the right side of my vision, and I initially thought I was just experiencing a blood rush to the head. This was different. This was like I was a computer who's monitor went into sleep mode. Then the sound slowly muted. Reality set in . . . it was like all the rejection I've experienced from an early age hijacked my vision and hearing. I was truly all alone with my thoughts and my voice.

All I kept thinking was: "God, I don't want to die. Not like this. Not with some fucking 30-year-old pothead in his room that had black light posters and who, most importantly, doesn't give a shit about me."

And the pothead told me to breathe and to calm down and I tried. I needed water. I needed to get to the bathroom. I wanted to be alone. I was embarrassed. What a great fucking time for my body to betray me.

I slowly came to while on the floor in his hallway. I looked around. I don't remember seeing him. It was freaky. I finally got to the bathroom and drank the water he got for me and looked in the mirror to see that I had a pimple on my forehead. "Great," I thought. "I'm still alive."

I don't know if I believe in God. I thought about my life during that black time. I thought about my mom and how I couldn't leave her. I thought about my dad, whom is always just out of my reach, and how he's given me the blueprint to go after these way unavailable guys. I thought vaguely about my brothers. I thought vaguely about the little girl I used to nanny for, Clare, who I feel so connected and responsible for. One day I want a little girl just like her.

Then I realized, "Holy shit, Adrienne! You are 23 and you are working at a music night club with these people who are super nice, but super content. You're here for so much more." I realized, like a broken record, I need to move to NYC. I need to do it again for myself. I need to chase after fame. These are things I've always wanted.

Love, of course, I want that, but you can't force it. You can't fake it. I for sure didn't feel any love for this latest guy. Not at all. Nor adoration. No wish to marry him. Nothing of the sort. I think I just wanted his body and attention. So why in the hell did I let him affect me so damn much?

My new plan is to move to NYC for real this time. Try acting, join a band and for real. Be a fabulous singer and that's it. There's nothing wrong with that. Do it the right way, not relying on anyone else for this to happen. This is just what has to be done. I lack stability in my life. I lack direction. I lack a solid plan and these are things that need to change.

Because you never know when life will blackout for good.

And furthermore, love is all around me. Life is too short for a pothead distraction.

I am moving to NYC.

I just had a very scary near death experience and it became clear that I am definitely wasting my time not following my dreams. Definitely.

ANNABELLE'S REVIEWS AND VIEWS: Juno

Damn, he has some nice legs.


I'm going to keep this short and sweet. Juno was a cute movie. It'll make you feel good. It's like Napoleon Dynamite without all the awkwardness.

The acting is great. The dialogue is hilarious. It's as good as all the cool people are saying.

There is, actually, one aspect that's a little awkward, but you can see it for yourself.

Verdict: Movie theater it! (But if you're broke like me, wait for the DVD. There's no crazy special effects that would entice you to see it on the big screen.)

FYI

Marilyn Monroe, Hollywood 1952

Do you exercise regularly?

I came across an article about how much Americans regular exercise, or rather, how many Americans exercise regularly and it turns out that about half of us do. Then I started thinking about people I know who exercise. Then I started thinking about me and how much I exercise and WHY I do so . . .

This really isn't really for your information as much as it's for MY information. I have been exercising fairly regularly since I was a very chubby 15-year-old. I did so because I knew that I didn't want to be "the fat girl" for the rest of my life. I remember the exact day I decided that I would lose weight and be healthy.

I used to be in show choir, a group where you sing and dance on stage, in high school. I LOVED it. Most of the older girls were dancers, so naturally they were thin and pretty. I was one of the youngest girls in the group, so add on the fact that I was chubby and awkward . . . I definitely DIDN'T fit in.

One day our instructor decided to videotape us because our dancing was becoming sloppy. She wanted to show us what we looked like on stage. We watched it and I felt SICK to my stomach. Seeing all that blubber, seeing how out of place I looked . . .I just couldn't believe that that was ME. I just kept thinking, "No wonder I don't have a boyfriend! Who would want to go out with me?" It was like for the first time I was seeing myself how others probably saw me and it broke my heart.

I was excused from class and claimed I was feeling sick (which was true). I went to the nurse and told my mom to come pick me up. Once I got into the car I cried and said: "I am so fat and ugly. I want to sleep forever!" And the truth was- I actually DID want to. With all my being, I wanted to sleep it off. Of course my over-dramatic mama FREAKED out. She said: "Do you know what you're implying? YOU'RE IMPLYING YOU WANT TO DIE!"

I was on suicide watch. I wrote in my journal, I slept and I watched television all day thinking about what I was going to do.

And then I decided I was going to lose weight and I knew I would do it. I just knew it would happen.

I looked in the phone book and searched for a kickboxing class. I got a free trial and loved it, but we found out it was going to cost $400 for a year, so my mom bought me a work out video instead (Kathy Smith: Kickboxing Workout) and I did it 3-4 times a week in my basement and it WORKED. I lost a significant amount of weight.

I made a promise to myself that cold and sunny day in November of my fifteenth year that I'd never be sedentary again. I had to work on my eating habits (and still am working on them to this day), but exercise was so important to me. It helps in every way. I may not be the most muscular Gym Queen in the whole world, but it's not about that for me at all. It's about health and happiness. It's about this being a part of my daily routine and my life forever.

Stop reading and start doing.

Changes

First of all, I hope everyone had a wonderful Christmas! I surely did. I'm sad to see the Holidays come to an end, but at the same time, I'm ready for a little normalcy. HAHA. What? Normalcy? What's that?

Remember how this blog used to be? It was less about me and more about my original aim- entertainment mixed with a little betterment. Enlightenment mixed with a little Britney Spears. Basically, it was like "GIRL POWER" in the Spice Girls sense of the expression.

I stepped away from it because I thought it would be better to make this more personal, but I soon discovered that A.) I was less inclined to write without guidelines to follow and B.) Frankly, it's boring to read me ranting all the time. (That's what my LiveJournal and regular journal is for, right?)

So I'm back to the original plan of Annabelle Blue. Well, backish.

Monday- A Novel Idea. A chapter for my novel in progress. (I need to have a little motivation to keep writing.) I'll post it here (very nervously) for you all to read and critique. The name of the novel and other details will likely remain private for my own sanity.

Tuesday- Annabelle Blue's Faves

Wednesday- Celebrities

Thursday- FYI

Friday- Reviews and Views

Saturday/Sunday- Peace and Love

This is just a rough skeleton of the new schedule. Of course I'll change some things, but this is where I think I'm going with this . . . for now. :)

2007

i started the year off
with a job i grew to hate
and pockets that were full
but my heart was empty

and now i'm full
absolutely, positively
i'm where i'm supposed to be
but my bank account is empty
and the bills keep piling
but i'm happy

i kissed four boys
the worst kiss
was with the one
who meant the most
the best
with someone i may
never see again (and that's okay)

i got over a unrequited love with a boy
now i find myself falling for a man
slowly and angrily, but surely

and i'm in love with a woman
named ani
her music touches my soul
i wish i'd discovered her sooner

i'm more the girl i always was
this year
and each day i'm closer
to becoming the woman
i was meant to be

next year
i want to resolute to
-become completely financially independent
-finish and publish my first novel
-find real love
-travel to at least one place outside of the US
-follow my dreams
-become a little more physically fit (and lose the obligatory 10 pounds)
-be true to myself
-get rid of some debt

2008

Major changes . . .

I got to catch up with my friend and former roommate Ellen yesterday. She is an avid reader of my blog and she's made me really think about the layout and format of this thing. I think I want to go back to how it was before . . .but better. Stay tuned. :)

Rufus Wainright has a whiny voice, but his sister is awesome. I had to sit through two of his concerts for the past couple of days. Some of his songs are haunting, but my God, dude has a WHINY voice. Does anyone like him?

Also, just when I give up, this boy gives me hope and it's maddening.

I must go finish getting ready for dinner and a movie (Sweeny Todd, Juno or Walk Hard . . .I'll report back with whichever one we decide to see) with some dear friends.

Until later . . .

HI ELLEN! This post was dedicated to you!

A little bit a' dis, and a little bit a' dat

So, Bobby won Tila Tequila! I knew it! I have yet to see the episode myself, but I'm so excited that he won!

Britney Spears' 16-year-old sister is pregnant! I found out last night from ONTD and I now realize that this obsession I have with that gossip blog is unhealthy. I can't stop checking it all day. Anyway, this is such good stuff. You couldn't make up a better story. Wow.

And have you seen Ashlee Simpson's new video? The song is horrible enough, but the video is such a rip off of Gwen Stefani's "What You Waiting For?" video. How is this girl even famous? I liked her better with her big nose and chin.

I cannot concentrate on writing. Ugh. I sooo need to, but I keep getting distracted by stuff. Mainly, television, movies, the Internet.

Also, I sometimes feel really shitty and right now is no exception. Like, I know I am PMSing, so I have an excuse and I'm aware that I'm not completely rational during this time of the month, but it sucks. I feel ugly, fat, stupid, and unworthy.

Now I'm off to continue being worthless . . .

The Season of Hedonism

All I wanna do is eat, lay in bed and watch television. I don't feel like even going shopping to spend money. I don't feel like working on my novel. I don't really feel like going to work at the Club at night either. All I wanna do is hang out in my heated house and watch movies.

And I kind of hate going to stores and driving on the roads this time of year. This time last year I was in NYC (or I think I might have been home by now . . .) and utterly DEPRESSED by the commercialism I witnessed there. Christmas did not have a fuzzy feeling because it was all about buying shit and spending money on this and making these sales and marketing and BLEH.

All I need is yummy treats, good friends, family, and warmth to make me feel like it's Christmastime.

Happy Holidays!

Tila Tequila

Please tell me why I care who wins "a shot at love"with Tila Tequila?

A couple of weeks ago, I happened to see the last two episodes before the finale. I don't know how I had those two hours of my life to even watch the show, but I got hooked.

And now I really want to know who "Miss Bisexuality" chooses! The "butch" lesbian Dani or will it be the "typical male" Bobby.

Truth be told, I like Bobby more. Dani just doesn't seem to be into her. Dani might be the "normal" one, but in all honesty, she doesn't act like she really cares about Tila. She seems to be along for the ride and that's it. I can't really blame her for that, but I don't think she should win.

Bobby, on the other hand, really seems to like Tila. I could tell especially when he got all jealous when she spent the night with the other contestants. You could just tell he was actually hurt.

And I love how gender is so unimportant and not the focus of the ultimate characters of these people. I don't even care if it's the "boy" or the the "girl", it all boils down to who will be the best for Tila. I haven't seen the other episodes (I came in when there were only 4 left), so I don't know if she had to eliminate one boy and one girl each time. Did they plan to just have one girl and one boy in the finale? I guess they couldn't possibly just have had two boys or two girls because that would take away the "point" of the show. Oh well . . .

The finale is this week and I can't wait. How pathetic! I hope she chooses Bobby!!!!!!! I think she will.

Me as a "Judgmental Ass"

Why do people suddenly become offensive and hateful when they sit behind a computer?

I fully intended on doing a post about "The Hills" and it's fakeness, but just as I sat down to write, I decided to do one of my multiple times daily check of my favorite celebrity blog "Oh No They Didn't!". There was a post about Ashley Tisdale (from Disney's "High School Musical") getting a nose job and she gave the standard deviated septum defense to justify her decision. She then assured us that she doesn't "believe" in plastic surgery. Okay, this is a ridiculous comment made by her PR person to protect Tisdale's image. She's an inspiration to little girls and as such, she can't go around advocating plastic surgery for obvious reasons. Plastic surgery is just so anti-Hollywood, right? Except, it's so Hollywood. Fake. So empty.

So I posted a comment, not thinking much of it (nor of the grammar or syntax, but that's just how much I wasn't truly thinking about what I was typing):

"These girls who get plastic surgery and stuff are all empty inside. They don't realize that you can't pay a plastic surgeon to fill their true issues with themselves. It makes me so sad.

I pray to God my future daughters and the little girls I know right now don't look up to these people are role models. It's disgusting."

Okay, so craziness ensued. Click here to read the responses:

Wow. So I don't know what is shocking me more . . . the fact that people think that thinking plastic surgery is not a good thing is wrong or the fact that people are so fucking rude with their opinions. I was called a "judgmental ass."

Given the average superficiality of a typical reader of ONTD, I shouldn't be so surprised. I just didn't think my opinion was that offensive, but then again, I've never had plastic surgery. Why do people with a mask, this one being the Internet, turn in to evil jerks sometimes? I did a lot of lying and deceitful things when I was like 13, 14, 15 online (mainly lying about my appearance and such), but I never intentionally tried to hurt or offend anyone. I just don't get it. Is being argumentative and true nature or does the Internet, particularly gossip blogs, promote this behavior?

No money, no problem

If money weren't an issue, what would you do?

I asked this question back when I used to feature one of my friends in a section of my blog each week. Everyone's answers were varied and ranged from being lazy and doing nothing to traveling all over the world. I myself never really pondered that question, nor did I ever fill out my own questionnaire that I composed to make my dear friends (and readers) think about their own life.

I know within my soul that money does not equal happiness. Whenever I go on spending binges, I know it makes me happy temporarily, but ultimately, it does nothing. Women, by nature, are gathers. That's why I like shopping, I guess. It's in my nature. But, after having a job where I made significantly more than my friends, I have realized that, without a doubt, MONEY DOES NOT EQUAL HAPPINESS.

This isn't to say that I want to be poor for the rest of my life. I like the finer things in life. I like not having to worry about money, but I also feel if money is a motivating factor in any of my decisions, it will most certainly make me depressed.

So today while I was doing a little Christmas window shopping for my family, I also "had" to stop at Sephora to buy some makeup. I spend so much money in that place because I love makeup. I like everything about it. Why not work there for minimum wage? I have sworn off retail jobs after attempting twice and HATING the hours. I like working with people, but I don't like the random hours you can't control.

I know I HATE working in an office. It always depresses me and I realize I can't even do it for 18-20 hours a week, so I quit this other one I had. I don't know why I did it again . . .oh, I know, because I needed money(of course!). I've never really liked one . . .I had an internship in NYC, but that doesn't count because I loved NYC and I was only there 2-3 days a week.

I love 9:30 Club. It makes me happy and that's all that matters. I hate dealing with people's reactions to where I work and what I do, but I KNOW I cannot let it affect me. Worrying about what others think of you is also something that does not equal happiness.

So what would I do if money weren't an issue? If anything were possible, I would sing and write. That's what I would do. Music and literature. That's me. That's what I want to do.

But money isn't the only thing stopping me from these things, but that's another post all together.

Living in the moment . . .

Hi guys,

So I know I've been pretty sucky at updating lately and I apologize for that. I am going to post really soon, but not right now. I just wanted to drop a line and say that I am learning to live in the moment and not think about the future so much. It's really helping me cope with shit. I need to relax and enjoy life instead of being such a freak sometimes. Haha.

As for now, I'm going to go read a little bit before having a low key evening with some friends at Cheesecake Factory, where I am most definitely going to eat some delicious cake. Then, hopefully, they'll come back home with me to the house I'm house/catsitting and play with the poor cat, since I am trying to but I'm just really NOT a cat person. Ek, I'm so annoyed by the feline, but at the same time I want her to be happy. I feel HORRIBLE and NEGLECTFUL for not playing with her more.

Okay, well have a good night, y'all.

♥,
A

Pit stops

It's like all I ever do is wait alone, chase or run. That's it. Always. Is this what love is? Wait, chase, run? Chase, run, wait. Run, chase, wait. Wait, run, chase . . .

I just want to stand still with someone for a bit . . .without my running shoes. And without his. Everyone else seems to take a break once in awhile. I've been doing a marathon, with a few tiny pit stops for water, but I'm never completely stopped and the finish line seems way out of sight.

I guess that's what you were . . .a pit stop. Just like the others.

So I guess I'll keep running.

Man, I need some new shoes.

Nose jobs

I could probably benefit from a nose job. My nose is pretty large and while it may fit my (big) face, it's a little too prevalent sometimes. I'm aware.

But my mother always told me that she believes God's sense of humor is seen in our noses because they are just silly looking.
So I'll keep my nose, I think. And laugh.

I am pretty comfortable with my looks. There are some days when I think I'm hideous and don't want to be seen, but all in all, I feel like there's much more to life than my large nose, the zit on my chin, my bucked teeth or the stretch marks that mark a good portion of my body. Sometimes I do obsess over those things, but forgive me, I'm human.

I thank my mom who, although not always entirely confident about her own looks, always taught me there was more to life than appearances. And not to take things too seriously. There are things you should be more concerned with, like treating others kindly and being knowledgeable.

A nose is easy to fix, but a personality isn't.

Babysteps

So, it's time that Ms. Annabelle Blue grew up. It's been a long time coming . . .23 years, to be exact. I graduated from college and tried NYC, then moved back home feeling defeated and confused. I had my first "big girl job" and hated every second of it. Now I'm doing a job I love at night and quitting my latest attempt at working in an office during the day. (I know I established that I had office jobs and corporate America, but this definitely, definitely reaffirms this fact. I can't even handle 20 hours a week . . .no wonder I was depressed after 40!)

So now it's time I got my act together.

Now, this isn't a particularly groundbreaking thought, I know. Some people have always had it together . . .I have not. I'm not that fortunate. I don't know if I ever TRULY thought about me at 23. I thought for sure I'd be a famous singer or something. I don't think I ever thought I'd be where and what I am now. That isn't to say I don't like who or what I am now, but it's just not what I really expected.

So the latest guy in my life is considerably older than I am and entirely independent. I am "independent-minded," but I am definitely not financially or even entirely emotionally independent. This admission is one that I'm not afraid to admit, but it's definitely one I'm not proud of. He says it's okay, but I don't know. How unattractive it must seem for me to be so un-together. How confused and changeable I am! I must be a complete mess to those on the outside, especially a romantic partner.

I really don't know how I'll be able to afford being on my own, but I really want to be. I have student loans, my car payments, health insurance and a pesky incident from an apartment in college to consider . . .but I know it can be done, mostly because it has to be.

Maybe this will change his mind about me, but that isn't the point. I'm not doing this for him or anyone else, I'm doing it for me because I know it's the right time.

I need to figure out what I'm doing with my life, but I need to stop obsessing over it, too. I need to enjoy the moment. Of course I have big ideas and big plans, but today, right now, I have smaller ones . . .baby steps.

And that's how we grow up, isn't it? With baby steps.

My mother said it took me a longer time to start walking. She said I knew how, but I was so afraid. I could even talk before I could walk, if you could imagine. I just couldn't let go because I was so scared. But finally, I let go and I started running.

Love,
A

Never thought I would be at 23 on the verge of combustion . . .

I'm on a YouTube kick, I guess. This song is so true. 23 is hard, y'all!

Sensual Seduction

Snoop Dogg can do no wrong.

Ugh.

You know, I was talking to a friend last night about how fucked up my luck is with regard to love and relationships. It's so redundant that I really feel foolish for even blogging about it anymore. I've been thinking about things a lot lately (as per usual) and it's driving me insane. I'm confused. I don't know what's what anymore. I've been such a good girl lately and I don't intend on spiraling back into my period of bad decisions, but something has got to change.

I'm feeling incredibly low right now. I can't keep walking away from people feeling empty and unfinished. That's how I feel every single time I say goodbye to this guy. It's never right. And I can't make it right, so I think I'll just have to accept that it isn't. And it's hard because I believe in us sometimes, but it feels like maybe I'm the only one. I'm always so alone.

And then there's this guy who will NOT talk to me anymore. I've poured my heart out to him and tried to get closure, I've moved on (but I'll still probably always adore him) and now it's just a matter of me thinking, "Hey, we were once friends, right? Can we just at least acknowledge that?" I guess not, huh? Did I do something so horrible that he can't even speak to me anymore? I know it's not my loss really, but it hurts. It doesn't hurt that it didn't work out, it hurts that he doesn't care to even know how I'm doing. That's what hurts. Even if he was just one of my girl friends, I'd still be hurt by ANYONE not talking or showing any interest in me who was once in my life. And if it's a matter of high school shit like "he told me this about you" or what have you, that's bullshit. But whatever. I can't even think about this anymore.

And my future is so uncertain. I feel the compulsion to move out of my house, but I'm so unstable as far as employment is concerned. I hate every job except working at 9:30 Club. It's like a cult, seriously. It's addicting because it's such a fun job and the people are so cool. I need to become a bit of a hermit and just continue to write this project I'm working on, but my stupid boring day job keeps getting in the way. I think I have to quit and be poor again. Not ideal, but I know it'll be better.

I feel as though I'm losing my sense of self. I had it a few weeks ago, but it's leaving me again. I'm too busy to even remember what I have to do anymore.

Fuckfuckfuck

I can't do this anymore, so I won't. As hard as it'll be, it has to be done. I am so sick of this. Why am I never worth the fight? I know I'm not easy, but it's really not all that difficult. I cannot wait any longer and I will not be patient. So goodbye.

Maybe this is my fatigue talking. Maybe it's my various frustrations talking. I am sick of pulling it out of you and putting myself out there. Either you are or you aren't. Either we are or we aren't. Either it happens or it doesn't.

So until you make up your mind, I've made up mine.

Back to square one. Again.

All That Matters

A conversation with a 27-year-old boy:

boy: "There was this girl I used to know and she'd always, like, put her finger in her mouth and ask for things like this . . ."

(boy demonstrates putting the index finger of his right hand in his mouth and looking up sheepishly)

me: "Oh, really? That's so annoying . . ."
boy: "No, like, all the guys would do anything for her."
me: "Because she was acting all cutesy, right?"
boy: "No, she hated girls like that."
me: "But she acted like that, too? Right?"
boy: "No, she was really, really hot."
me: "Aw, well, that's all that matters."
boy: "Well, to boys, yeah."

On Fairy Tales

I believe in fairy tales. I'm that type of girl. Someone told me that I remind them of Princess Jasmine from Aladdin. I barely remember that movie, yet alone Princess Jasmine, but I was sort of offended by that. Granted, I'm still young and I still have lots to learn about life and love, but I don't believe just because I believe in happy endings that I have unrealistic expectations . . .mostly because I think these endings aren't unrealistic.

And yes, I do believe in love and I think it's powerful and I'm a romantic in that sense, but I don't think my head is far too far into the clouds to be out of touch with reality.

Tonight I saw "Enchanted" and I loooooved it. Ironic, clever, funny, cute and it's a fairy tale. During this movie I realized that my happy-go-lucky nature and optimism is something I shouldn't be embarrassed about. If people (or a specific guy) doesn't like it, oh well. I'll move on. Why should I care? And I don't. This is a big revelation to me.

The sarcastic, self-deprecating and all around negative attitude that I affect sometimes isn't really me. It's a defense mechanism I feel I've developed to deal with the fact that my environment at times has worked against my true nature and jaded me a bit. Inside, I'm really a singing, dancing, curious girl who likes make-up and pretty things. I'm really a princess. I'm really into make believe. I really believe in fairy tales.

And as much as I try to say I want a small wedding that's intimate and unpretentious, I kind of do want a big fairy tale wedding. I would love to get married in Cinderella's castle. I am that type of girl. I do want my Prince Charming. And I do want my happily ever after. I'm not embarrassed about this anymore.

So I looked up Princess Jasmine and her characteristics are: spunky, free-spirited, intelligent and cunning. She also doesn't want to marry any princes that her father suggests. Um, hi.

So maybe I am like Princess Jasmine . . . I'll take that. It's a compliment.

Happy Belated Thanksgiving and Stuff . . .

Hope you guys are enjoying your Thanksgiving "break," of which I don't really have any longer. I'm at my day job right now and will be heading to my night job shortly after this, but that's the life of a hustla, baaaaaaaybay. I have given up the comfort of paid vacations and health insurance for a sense of independence(?), which sometimes kinda stinks, but mostly makes me happy.

I'm loving spending time with my family this time of year. As much as I dread the drama, when it really comes down to it, I love them so much and actually thoroughly enjoy spending time with them. I get to play with babies and children, which makes me happy.

My cousin told me she's pregnant with her second baby and I'm so happy for her. Makes me seriously consider that I want kids kind of soon, which is scary. It's something I look forward to, but first I gotta figure my life out. I wouldn't want to bring a new, innocent human being into this mess of a life right now. An older, bigger, mature human being . . .maybe. ;)

I'm working on a novel right now that I want to publish. I've written two novels before, but I wouldn't dream of publishing either one. They had their purposes and I had a lot of readers for one of them. I guess it was sort of published, in a sense, but that was a long time ago. (Notice the intentional vagueness of this admission . . .) I will update you special people on the current novel in progress at a later date. It's going to take a lot more dedication and focus to complete this, which means I'm going to become a tad bit antisocial, but that's okay.

I'm also seriously considering grad school again. Yikes, I'm always so up and down with this, but I know I gotta do it.

Enjoy the rest of your day.

A

As time passes by . . .

Tonight, while blow-drying my hair (And burning my arm! Don't ask how . . .I'm just clumsy enough to do so), I thought of a classmate from high school who had the skin on her face burned from getting a relaxer. I became pretty good friends with her at one point, but I've lost touch.

It made me think of other "friends" from high school I've lost touch with and how they are merely "characters" to me and less real people anymore. I have changed and grown so much over the past few years to the point where I feel as though I'm a different person sometimes. When I run into these old classmates, I'm brought back to a place I once was, but completely objectively. It's weird. People are starting to become fictionalized in the story of my life now.

And my hair is my natural color again, there are no chemicals trying to "relax" my curls anymore and it's refreshing. I feel like I'm maturing (thanks to the one lone gray hair on my head!) and, at the same time, returning back to who I really am.

I feel free.

These are a few things on my mind:

1.) I need to start exercising more regularly again.
2.) I need to stop eating everything in sight.
3.) I hate PMS. All I want is chocolate and sleep.
4.) I am so fucking hooked on this new guy and it's not a good thing. I am tired of trying. We get so far and then it's back to square one a few days later. What the hell?
5.) I need to move out.
6.) I need to write more.
7.) I am already having doubts about my new day job. It's boring as hell.
8.) WHAT THE HELL AM I DOING WITH MY LIFE?

That's all. Going to watch "The Hills" even though I know my brain cells cry "murder" for the entire half hour.

Ani Part 2

i don't call the attention to myself
or maybe i do
i cannot help if i get attention from the opposite sex
i have been invisible, too
so i know how you feel when it isn't on you
but the dirty looks and misplaced anger
are a little much
even for me

and i'm sorry you think
i'm a flirt and not to be trusted
especially since i ("did not") hurt your friend
you're just feeling a little jealous
and insecure
but that's okay
it's not a crime
i just wish you'd get over it

and then there's you
god, there's always a fucking you
and you know what
you're the attention i want
and tonight i go to bed alone
is this going anywhere?
fuck, i'm just not into this anymore
i felt apathy creeping in
and then when i feel ignored . . .
i care(???)

ani difranco was amazing tonight, again.
that's what i'll go to sleep thinking about. goodnight.

"ANIMALS ARE PEOPLE, TOO!"

I work with a bunch of vegetarians and vegans. I am not one to judge anyone's eating habits, but it really, really annoys me when vegetarians or vegans justify their vegetarianism on the basis that . . .

"ANIMALS ARE PEOPLE, TOO! HOW WOULD YOU LIKE IT IF SOMEONE ATE YOUR MOM?"

Well, there are so many things wrong with this argument, with the most obvious one being that animals are not "people." I don't disagree that animals have souls, but they are not living, breathing, thinking, homeowning, people. According to dictionary.com, people is defined as "human beings, as distinguished from animals or other beings."

Therefore, the hypothetical question of someone eating my mother is irrelevant to the hyperbole of the first statement. Duh, I'd be sad if someone ate my mom, but my mom is a PERSON. I might be sad if someone ate my dog, too, but I don't have a dog . . .and said dog would not be a PERSON.

I also hate when people say:

"MEAT IS GROSS!"

I don't like all meat, but I wouldn't just make a broad statement about all meat being gross. Meat tastes different depending on the animal. I like chicken, but I don't think I'd enjoy rat the same.

The way in which meat is "mass produced" and the highly unethical treatment of the animals producing the meat we eat is gross.

If you raise the animal on your own farm and then slaughter it, naturally and organically, what's wrong with that? Frankly, it's none of their business if you're a vegetarian, so why do you care if they eat meat?

Biblically, God gave humans domain over all animals. Now, I'm not even religious, but it doesn't seem outrageous to assume we rule over animals?

Another thing I hate are the fake vegetarians. The ones who secretly eat meat, but will tell anyone who listens about how they're a vegetarian. The times they do eat meat are always excused because they're "low on iron" or "craving pepperoni" or "drunk." Honey, you're not a vegetarian only from 9am-5pm . . .it's a full-time job.

And there's always the vegetarian who not only stays away from meat, but they also stay away from VEGetables. They just eat processed shit, because they're so enlightened and progressive.

Vegans are admirable, but not eating any product or byproduct of an animal cannot be healthy, easy or normal.

I've tried to be a vegetarian and the longest I lasted was probably around two weeks. I was a "pollo vegetarian" (aka fake vegetarian who only ate birds but no cow or pig) from the ages of 12-19, but eventually a girl needs to eat a hamburger. (Actually, I tried the South Beach diet when I was 19 and was basically forced to eat red meat for breakfast, lunch and dinner, but that's another blog post altogether.) I just feel like shit when I don't have enough protein and I'm NOT big fan of tofu . . .and I like chicken. I still go days without eating any meat, but eventually I realize that something is a little off and I eat some meat.

I, by no means, think vegetarianism is any better or worse than eating meat, but I think the hardcore people who do it for the wrong reasons and justify it with moronic "evidence" and/or hyperbolic statements are annoying.

Animals are not people.

You did it the third time . . .

my brain is fuzzy trying to put together the happenings of last night. i don't know exactly what has happened or what it means. people are going to be hurt and "friendships" tangled. maybe i should have shown some restraint, but i don't believe i can be faulted for following my heart and the urges that come with the territory of being a living, breathing, FEELING human BEing.

no one owns me and that's why i'm single. i belong to no one. this is why. i don't know what i want and i want to do what i please. if i don't want you, nor have i ever said that i did, and because of this purposeful omission, i do not owe you anything. maybe it would have been wiser not to let you know what was going on, but i thought honesty was the best policy. i was interested in him first. you're a great guy, but you're not for me. get over it.

but really, all this drama is for a mere unexplainable and previously un-acted upon attraction. prolonged eye contact. harmless flirting. you cannot help who/what/when you're attracted to who or whatever you're attracted to. i am drawn to him and him to me. this is not a relationship and maybe it never will be, but i am having fun learning and making these mistakes that i'm making. that is not a crime.

wait, i can't wait for you. wait for what? why not now? what is this about? you think i'm asking you to be my boyfriend. that's really funny. we're both adults, you're attracted to me, i'm attracted to you, and that's where it begins and ends. i don't know what i'm asking for, but i'm not asking for whatever it is you're asking for me.

i begged, pleaded, tempted, seduced for this vague and inexplicable thing.. i wanted something tangible. i will forget tomorrow, i promised. we can go back to normal. you liked things how they were. fuck you, maybe i'm being rejected, but i want it anyway. and i got it. twice. and then you did it the third time without me asking.

in the rain, in the street, it's late, i'm cold, i need sleep, i have work in the morning, these excuses are excused when it happens. because this is what i need right now. tomorrow can wait.

and i do not feel good on the drive home. i feel empty and numb because i feel like you were just doing me a favor. but you did it the third time on your own. that's got to mean something.

Letter from the Editor (or Writer)

Good morning!

Here I am in bed, making no rush to get my ass to the gym. I really don't feel like it. I'd rather do stuff around the house that needs doing. I was also supposed to do lunch with a friend, but I'm not sure about that either. I think I need a little "me time" before work tonight.

Yesterday I got my hair trimmed on a whim. I've been thinking about it for awhile, but I'm trying to grow my hair out. The problem was that I couldn't even wear my hair down because it was soooooo uneven and I had so many split ends. So I got a trim and, OF COURSE, she cut too much. But at least it looks better down now. I just get so mad now when I get my hair trimmed because I know it's "just hair," but what gives a hair stylist the right to just chop it off if you didn't ask for it to be done? Ugh.

I also saw Ani DiFranco in concert last night. She played at a symphony hall, which was beautiful. I love symphony halls. It made me nostalgic for singing when I was young in various halls and going to plays in London. I need to take more advantage of the cultural happenings in Washington, DC and Baltimore . . .

Anyway, Ani DiFranco was just as amazing as you'd expect. It was my first time seeing her, so I was very excited. She is also playing at 9:30 Club this Friday, but it'll be a whole different atmosphere. At the concert last night, we all had assigned seats, which we were all seated in and the fucking couple in front of me kept on making out and hugging! I couldn't see over the guys head, so I had to move when they moved. We couldn't sing along with Ani because my friend said that Ani doesn't like it because it takes her away from the place she was when she wrote it. That is so true, especially with her very, very personal and specific to place and time lyrics. This all made for a very different concert going experience for me, but very nice (except for the couple in front of me). Ani is amazing.

Why are some lesbians so hateful towards straight people, particularly (obviously) men. I just don't get it. Why are they so angry? I'm sure there are some happy lesbians who don't hate men or heterosexuality, but some of them are just as close-minded and judgmental as homophobic assholes. Case in point, I went to the bathroom and two girls were talking about the "annoying" STRAIGHT couple who were shouting things out" during the concert. Why did you need to add that they were straight? How is that relevant to the story? Well, duh, because straight couples are obnoxious and loud, that's why! And they think they're better than everyone else because they're straight! And why in the hell are they at Ani DiFranco because ONLY lesbians like her! But, she's not a lesbian anymore and she's married to a man and she had his baby and that makes me SO ANGRY! Blahblahblah. I've noticed it time and time again with a lot of members of the gay community. I get it, you're gay. You don't need to be rude and make everything a gay vs straight issue. Maybe it's just that way with the younger ones that I've encountered and maybe the more evolved ones can see past the ridiculous separation that they inflict themselves.

Gay, straight, fat, thin, ugly, pretty, smart, dumb, black, white, single, married, innie, outtie . . .we're all the same, so it's so stupid to single each other out all the time.

Enjoy your Sunday, loves. ♥

A

promise to myself

tomorrow, or technically today, i promise myself that i will do something creatively related to my future. i need ambition. :)

Sunflowers

i had a dream which consisted of you last night
you were back
and you were different
changed, even
you had been designing
Disney sketches while away
and now you were searching
for sunflowers
"why sunflowers?" i asked
"because they're beautiful and they grow so big searching for light
that they can even grow around you . . ."
and it did
you had your sketch pad out
and we searched together, happily

who knows what it means
but the reappearance of you was nice to see
if only in a dream

My Love for Gwen Stefani Exposed

This morning, I received the following Facebook wall post from a friend:

"Anywhoo, there is a cute video of your girl Gwen on TMZ.com. When I saw her and heard what she said it made me think of you and how you guys sort of seem a like....check it out, you'll see what I mean (hopefully).

I went to tmz.com and viewed the video. It was Gwen Stefani when she was young talking about her dreams while super gluing an outfit she was going to wear on stage. She got every wish. She wanted to be famous and tour the world. She accomplished it. She even got her beautiful rockstar husband and her adorable little baby she sang about in her songs all the time. Who wouldn't want that dream?

I fell in love with Gwen Stefani when I was 12. I saw No Doubt performing on the Video Music Awards pre-show back in 1996. I remember being in my parent's bedroom watching the awards with my dad and thinking: "That is what I want to be when I grow up. Who is this?" I was enraptured and just flat out amazed. Who was this?

My memory about where I purchased "Tragic Kingdom" is kind of fuzzy. I could have been in NYC while visiting my brother and his mom or it could have been at Best Buy in my hometown. I don't remember. It was a weird time in my life. I was in 7th grade, beginning the teenage years, dealing with becoming a woman, dealing with a lot of stuff with my family . . .and you know, all that stuff.

I listened to that CD everyday after school. I was a "Gwenabee", as we were called, and I wanted to be just like this amazing 26-year-old woman because I felt like I WAS just like her. I'm sure thousands of girls (and boys!) felt this same way about her; I cannot claim the rights to this. I was a chubby little black girl from the suburbs of DC . . .I was clearly not "like" her, but I was.

I would sing my heart out to lyrics about heartache and saving the world. I would perform for the imaginary thousands of people who came to see me. My mom would barge in on me and laugh. I even had "Spiderwebs" on my answering machine. All my friends loved it. I was so cool.

I cannot explain my love and admiration for Gwen and her life. I cannot, nor will I try. But I am just so moved by the fact that she got everything she wanted. I don't particularly love her solo stuff, but I love No Doubt and I love her.

I remember listening to "Sixteen" on repeat the day I turned 16-years-old. Ironically, No Doubt was performing in concert near me that SAME FUCKING DAY! My mom wouldn't let me go because she didn't know the people I would be going with. I cried. I sat in my room and listened to the song over and over again. The irony. (I'm still sad just thinking about it.) The song was so true for me about the awkwardness of being 16 and not being allowed to do what I wanted. I was such an angsty teenager.

When I was 18, I finally got the chance to see No Doubt in concert. The date was October 18, 2002, to be exact. And I was in FRONT FUCKING ROW. It was amazingamazingamazing. It was in Philly and I was a freshman in college. It was a beautiful moment. Just hearing them do sound check from outside the arena before the show forced tears to form . . .

"I used to listen to these songs everyday!" I exclaimed to my new friend, and fellow No Doubt/Gwen worshipper, Vicky. She smiled. She got it.

We managed to get in the front row and I CRIED just when the intro music started. Before they even came out from under the stage, the tears started pouring and I turned to Vicky, and just hugged her and said: "I'm crying. Holy shit. I can't stop." When I saw them, it felt unreal. I'm tearing up right now writing this.

The concert was amazing. Just . . .words don't even fit. I remember standing right below Tom, the guitar player, and him just looking down at me and smiling. I was in my own world, singing along to every word. He must have seen the bliss radiating from me. His smile was so gentle and kind. I got his guitar pick, which reminds me every time because I don’t have any pictures to remind me. Just my memories.

Stephen, the trumpet player, and I kept smiling and dancing with each other from far away. Such positivity. I didn't get to interact with Adrian or Tony, but that's okay.

And then GWEN! She sang to me during "Hey Baby" and I sang back to her. She sang to me a couple of other times, but I don't remember. It was so fucking amazing. Have I said that enough? The 12-year-old in me was just bursting at the seams. It was one of the best nights of my life.

So back to the video of a young Gwen. When I asked my friend WHY she thought I reminded her of Gwen, she responded with:

"You guys are alike in the way you think about being famous. Like, it's something that you know is going to come at your cross road but you also have a back up plan that will still give you happiness. Although, you feel confident that you are going to set your mark on the world She's has the vibe about her that just reminds me of you...it's hard to explain. The way she talks too...she's soft spoken like you sometimes. You are really soft spoken on the phone sometimes, espeically when you first answer and I'm the exact opposite LMAO I'm a hot mess."

So maybe I am like her, after all. I haven’t seen her persona offstage very much, but I guess we are alike.

Every single day I ask myself: what am I doing? Where am I going? How will I accomplish my dreams? What ARE my dreams? Maybe I need to write them down. Maybe I need to speak them out loud. Maybe someone needs to videotape me answering these questions so someone, like me, can see it years from now and say: “Wow, she got everything she wanted. Maybe I can, too. I want to be just like her.”

Alcoholics

I am part of a love trapezoid at my night job. One girl I've befriended likes the guy I sort of like and he likes me, but his friend asked me out on a date and it's awkward. So I went out with the friend, and then I acted weird and finally tonight I told the friend that I just wanted to be his friend, nothing more.

Holy shit! Is that me becoming mature? I nipped it in the bud and we are, if you can believe it, OKAY! Better, even. WOW! He's mature, too. Why can't all guys be like this. SAY WHAT YOU FUCKING MEAN. It's not that hard. My god.

But I am still undecided about the guy I sort of like, for various reasons, but I can't even explore him because we're rarely alone and I don't want to upset anyone. He even lives with two of my co-workers, so it's not like we do it on the dl. Maybe we can figure something out . . .

I'm petrified of letting myself truly fall for him. He works at 9:30 Club and he's 30 years old. He's kind of immature. Most of the guys I work with are immature and/or alcoholics. I went drinking with a bunch of them after work tonight. Is this what they become amongst each other? Talking about how drunk they got and what they did. It gets boring.

And I found myself longing for thought-provolking conversation about art, literature or even celebrity culture. The reality of the stuntedness of some of the people I work with is rearing it's head and I'm contemplating a future. Right now, it's fun and I can handle it. But forever? I don't know. Can I really be with someone who's primary job is this? I don't think so.

I don't know what I'm doing sometimes. Standing on the corner of 9th and V street, cold, waiting for the other boys to come across the street, with the girl who likes you driving off angrily, I looked up at you and I just thought: "Here I am."

There I was.

Gossip Girl

Hi guys,

I thought I'd drop y'all a line since it's been a few days. Seriously, having two jobs and balancing living, eating and breathing is incredibly hard. I've been out of touch with friends, eating and spending money on food I shouldn't be eating, and working out regularly has been pretty impossible. It's such a drastic change from, like, two weeks ago when I only had 9:30 Club and planned my day around The Tyra Banks Show and Oprah.

9:30 Club is going pretty well. I hate coming home and feeling anxious though, which happens sometimes. I'm still so concerned with what a lot of people I work with think. I feel like I'm still new and people are still feeling me out.

Gossip is something I've had trouble with in the past and now I'm trying to get stop all of that for good. I have been doing pretty well until tonight when I mentioned how one of my coworkers never does any work, but always tries to tell other people what to do. It's true, but I should've kept my mouth shut. I also told two of my coworkers about my crush on another coworker. I probably shouldn't have done so, but I guess it couldn't hurt if he found out I'm interested. (This is not the post to talk about that subject!)

Gossip is so pervasive and yet such a sign of insecurity. Are we girls so insecure that we need to gossip about everyone? I try not to and you know what, I totally gossiped about my other coworker for all the wrong reasons. Do I really care that this person doesn't work? Not really. I guess I was just trying to "bond" with the coworker I gossiped to. How pathetic.

I am trying to be impeccable with my word. I shouldn't talk shit and I shouldn't embellish the truth or flat out lie. These are things that are important to me, and I must do adhere to these rules.

On another note, my brother is writing a book and just sent me a draft of a few chapters. I have yet to read them (I'm too busy), but I look forward to taking a look . . .I just hope he doesn't "go there" because I'm an emotional wreck about my childhood sometimes.

Okay, that's it for now. Goodnight, everyone!

Blackout

Never have I ever been warned, questioned and harassed about buying a CD more than I was when I purchased Britney's new album. People laughed at me. My friends questioned my sanity. The cashier said: "No refunds!" What the hell? I asked him if he usually warns purchasers about refunds and he said, "No, but for that CD . . .yeah!"

So, I'm perplexed. Her albums have always been pretty much devoid of personality and basically entertainment's equivalent to junk food. There was nothing nutritional about it, but it served it's purpose once and a while and tasted good- even it was completely synthetic. But, NOW, when she's actually unabashedly what she is- no pretenses and, although she still she doesn't write her shit, it's more personal and autobiographical and we pretty much know what she's about (sex, drugs and no panties) . . .why is it NOW that everyone is making it about the music? Why are we suddenly paying attention and evaluating the "quality" of her music? When we knew nothing about her, except that she was pretty and "perfect," and she made SHITTY albums (only 1 or 2 songs on her albums were ever worth listening to), everyone bought her music. No one questioned me and I sure as hell wasn't warned by everyone not to buy her music. (Nevermind the personal battle I fought within when I bought the other two Britney albums that I own.)

Hell, "Blackout" is a good dance album. I like Britney more now that she's crazy. I can appreciate her music more. In reality, now that I know more about her, she seems more mysterious . . .and more fun.

If her aim on this new album is to get me to move my ass ("Freakshow") , grind on the boy next to me ("Gimme More", "Radar"), fall in love ("Heaven on Earth") and then dump his ass when he starts disrespecting me and/or I get tired of him ("Toy Solider", "Why Should I be Sad?"), her goal is accomplished.

That isn't to say that this album is perfect, but none of the songs are HORRIBLE. At worst, they are generic and redundant. I could do without "Break the Ice", "Get Naked", "Ooh Ooh Baby" and "Perfect Lover." Those four songs aren't horrible, but there's nothing terribly special about them.

"Piece of Me" is her take on the paparazzi. "Radar" is "Toxic" Part 2, and that isn't a bad thing. "Heaven on Earth" is very Kylie/Madonna . . .and uncomfortably delicious. "Freakshow" is very, very cool and futuristic. (It's one of my favorite tracks.) "Toy Solider" reminds me of my favorite "Destiny Child" song, "Solider" mixed with a little Gwen. And "Why Should I Be Sad" is produced by Pharell and it's a strong track that shows the emoitional (or unemotional) side of Britney's breakup with Kevin.

Overall, I'd say this album is Britney's best album by far. She admits to being a lush and favoring nakedness. Finally. And I will glady make copies for anyone who wants one so you don't have to be embarassed enough to go to the store to buy it and be a part of the Spanish Inquisition upon doing so.

Hipsters love to dance

Okay, so maybe I'm the last person on earth who wasn't familiar with "The Go Team", but I saw them last night at 9:30 Club and I must say, they had some catchy, danceable music. I actually preferred the DJ's set before and after they performed, but it was very fun. Seeing so many hipsters was quite entertaining. But those people in the band are complete stoners. HAHAHA! Crazy Brits.

Also, Jimmy Eat World was SO good live and amazing. My God, is my life even real anymore? It just keeps getting better. :)

I know I'm being very vague right now and seeing these two bands doesn't automatically equal a happy existence, but I'm really quite happy right now.

I started a new part-time job and it's kind of boring, but it's everything I was looking for. It pays well, it's laid-back and flexible. Everything seems to be working out.

I wish I could go to the gym more. I haven't had the time in the past few days and I'm really missing it. There's always tomorrow, right?

2 questions you ask strangers . . .

"What do you do for fun?"
"What do you do for a living?"

Should these two questions not have synonymous answers?

The Universe

I think it's laughable when people try to tell me there's "nothing" after you die. How can you prove there's nothing? You have faith in there being nothing just like I have faith in they're being SOMETHING because neither of us have died yet. What is the purpose of life, then? Don't come at me with some scientific bullshit because, although I believe in biology and what not to explain most things, I don't believe you can use science to talk about what happens after you die.

Maybe I'm off topic here. This has little to do with death and more to do with being alive. Maybe I have angels looking out for me, in the Judeo-Christian concept, or maybe, and which is more pragmatic for me today, the Universe simply gives you what you ask for. Time and time again things happen to me that I cannot simply brush of as coincidence. I want something, specifically, and I get it. My intuition, something that everyone has, tells me something and it turns out to be true. Go ahead and laugh and think I'm crazy, I don't really care. I know some people might think I'm crazy, and that's totally fine. Maybe I am. Maybe I'm not . . .

This is my reality. This is my dream. I cannot control everything in this, but I can think positive to attract good. I can help others and I can be a good person.

It's really hard to keep this frame of mind amid everything and everyone else, but if our true goal in life is to just "be happy," as the Dali Lama states, then that's what I'm going to do. And when you follow the path of true happiness, I believe things come easier and, like Santiago experienced in "The Alchemist", the Universe conspires to get you there.

Of course, there will be obstacles that erupt outside of your control or that are, more often than not, self-inflicted, but ultimately, if you keep your goal in mind, it'll happen.

You see, I'm an optimist at heart, although I can be a moody, sarcastic, dark person when it comes to some matters (particularly in love), I just have this odd "feeling" that everything will work out in the end.

So thank you, Universe, from the bottom of my heart.

Edit: This also brings to mind a conversation I had with one of my friends about the idea of autonomy and self-fulfilling prophecies for people in Third World countries and America who are economically disadvantaged. These people don't have the knowledge and economic tools, realistically, to be as positive about life as a privileged American of the educated middle-class. I don't know if I necessarily agree with this, but I know I cannot validate my "luck" or privilege. I was not born in the slums of Peru or raised in poverty in Ethiopia. I have never even been to a Third World country. I can only speak from where I'm from and from my experience. What good would it be for me to be so depressed about extreme poverty that I even couldn't see what I've been given in my own life? Maybe one day I will help those people who need it, but I think it would be unwise for me to dwell on their circumstances and ignore my own. My life isn't perfect either. I am definitely blessed, but I feel as though I should not have to feel guilty as a result of being so.

I'm a Dating Whore

I have a late lunch/early dinner date today with a co-worker of mine at The 9:30 Club. I know he's into me and he's made it quite clear. I am not that interested in him, although he is SUCH a nice guy and I reeeeeeally enjoy spending time with him. I just love going on dates and I really like to get to know people. I almost NEVER decline an invitation to a date. I'm what you might call a "dating whore."

Usually these "dates" do not end up with a kiss. I always go into these situations thinking they are platonic, even though part of me knows that no one really dates "platonically." (I also know that this particular guy wants something more.) Some people might think I am leading these poor guys on, but to me, I could become interested in them romantically, right? But I rarely do.

I just really enjoy the actual act of dating . . .particularly if it's low-stress. I've dated a lot of guys, some of which only consisted of one date, but some lasted for several. I prefer to date around and learn as many guys as I can. I love going to different restaurants and trying new things. I'm also a "new experience whore."

If things get too serious or if the guy start expecting some physical action, then the less-than-fun part of "the talk" comes and I have to explain the "just friends" part and often that translates to, in the boy's mind, "Let's just keep it physical. No emotions!" Once I say "no" to that, his attitude becomes: "Fuck you, bitch. You're a waste of my time!"

It happens time and time again. I'd rather the guy be angry with me than hurt because when I hurt them, it makes me feel awful. Then I might give them a pity make-out session to make them happy again.

I'm really not as cold and manipulative as it may seem. It's all rather innocent. I just thoroughly enjoy hanging out with new boys. What's so wrong with that?

Lessons at 9:30: All Access Pass

I started working at Nightclub 9:30 (more commonly known as "The 9:30 Club") in September. I'm going to do a continuing series of posts about things I've learned about music, life, myself, people, and more from this amazing opportunity. . .

I've gotten to know a lot about bands/musicians by the way they treat their fans, the staff at the club, and even by the way they hold up their backstage pass (if at all).

Some talent (what we call the musicians) hold up their all access passes whenever they pass us before going backstage. A few flash their pass really quick without even looking at us. Some just merely walk by without even a jester to find their pass.

I find it interesting that often the backup singers/dancers/musicians in the OPENING ACT are INSULTED if you ask to see their pass. Once some guys who were trumpet players or something for The Roots said to me: "Didn't you just SEE me on stage?" Dude, there were like 50 other people on stage, too! I don't just sit there and look at the stage the whole time because my job isn't to sit there and watch the stage and remember all the people on it. Stuff like that really annoys me. It's pretentious and inconsiderate to not recognize that we're merely doing our jobs.

When the talent or tour managers or whoever actually takes the time out to talk to us and show us their backstage pass EACH TIME, it gives us the illusion that they are humble. It shows they know that we're just doing our jobs and that it's nothing personal, no matter how big they are or how small I am. Those are the people that I respect and have kind feelings toward. Even a half smile or eye contact while walking by me shows me that you're a nice person, or at least, you care if people think you're nice. You can't ask too much from people with huge egos, can you?

One of my favorite bands is Incubus. My friend worked at a show that they performed at and said Brandon Boyd (the lead singer) showed his backstage pass to her EACH TIME he walked by. That really shows his respectful nature and kindness as a person. As if I needed another reason to find him delicious . . .

I'm very interested in the humanity of rock stars. I'm interested in humanity as a whole, but I really enjoy hearing stories and observing first hand the positive habits and attitudes of rock stars. That is what is inspiring to me.

Reggae (10/22)

he doesn't gamble, he says
it's not his thing
"God is bigger than Christianity"
spirituality at it’s finest

listening to Bob Marley on the way home
a rare, exclusive burn of his early, early stuff
some ultra-cool and aware medic/everything has remembered
and delivered
which is rare and reassuring
i need to remember people’s names

everyone loves Portishead
"wandering star"
"i am," i say
"don’t wander," he says
"forever"
forever

Dumb + Dumber

Tyra Banks as an undercover fat woman. I missed that episode!

I feel as though I keep getting dumber and dumber each day.

When I go back and read previous entires, I realize my grammar sucks. I would like to go back and edit the entires and what not, but that seems too daunting a task. It sort of makes me want to give up. I have gotten used to poor grammar from text messaging, IMing and e-mailing. Sometimes I even forget how to capitalilize stuff . . .and doesn't it look cooler in all lower case?

And watching The Tyra Banks Show makes you dumber. She appeals to the lowest common denominator and, often, she reverts the conversation back to herself. Well, it's her show afterall, right? And although I definitely know I should finish reading at least 1 of 5 books on my bedside table right now and shut the fucking television off, I just can't stop watching.

I am a smart girl. I can analyze the hell of out of things and present my views intelligently with words on a screen, but somehow, I'm finding it hard to do so. I am not focusing. I have lots of ideas I would like to focus on for my blog, but I'm just not doing it. I think I'm going to unplug my television for a week to see if I can get my intellectual fires burning once again.

I will start tomorrow perhaps. But then again, Lance Bass is going to be on The Tyra Show talking about his homosexuality and if he's ever "had SSSSEXXXXXXXXX with a girl."

This blog used to be more organized and I feel like people liked reading it more when it was more organized. With a daily topic, I was forced to write more. Should I go back to the way it was?

The farce that is Suri Cruise

Oh, really?

This morning I did my daily (or hourly, depending on the day) check of "Oh No They Didn't!" and was delighted to see a post featuring my favorite celebrity baby (aside from Zahara Jolie-Pitt), Suri Cruise! I happen to think that Suri is the most adorable Scientology robot baby I've ever seen. When I fawn over her (and feel my biological clock start ticking) upon seeing a picture of her, immense skepticism and fear start to creep in because, less I forget, this is Tom Cruise's "child." I am pretty sure there is some Scientology curse on her that makes everyone who lays eyes on her think she's the "cutest baby ever," which is just part of Ron L. Hubbard's plan to make everyone love innocent Suri, which leads to loving Tom Cruise and, eventually, we will all become Scientologists.

Are we really supposed to believe this baby is the age we are led to believe? I have heard a lot of rumors about Tom Cruise, specifically that he's very gay, but I have not actually seen a penis in his ass, so I can't really say for sure. Why didn't he ever have a biological baby with Nicole Kidman? Recently, Nicole Kidman has admitted to having a miscarriage during her marriage to Tom Cruise. But his first wife, Mimi Rogers, has started publicly that Tom Cruise is infertile. So what's up with that?

If all this is true and Tom really can't father any children, where'd Suri get half of her DNA? I believe that Suri is Katie Holme's child because she looks like her and I believe Katie was actually pregnant, but who is Suri's biological father? Suri kind of looks like Tom, but I heard a rumor that his brother helped out and fathered the child. Also, I heard that Katie was already pregnant when she met Tom Cruise and that Chris Klein is the father. I think this seems probable. If you can remember back to the spring of 2006 when the whole world was on TomKat baby watch, Katie's belly got bigger and smaller everyday. Could it have been a prosthetic belly towards the end because she already had the baby? That could also explain the delay of the pictures and public sightings of the child until she was well over 5 or 6 months. That could have been done so we couldn't tell she was older than she was. And Suri sometimes resembles Chris Klein as well. But she always looks like Tom? I don't know. This is just a hypothesis.

There is no way that this baby is only 16 months. Before she was one she had long hair and she was photographed running and laughing about. Shiloh Jolie Pitt, who is just one month younger than Suri, still looked like an infant at the same time. I have been around a lot of babies and Suri Cruise looks and acts much older than her age.

I could be wrong. Suri could actually be their natural (haha) born baby. TomKat could have conceived her the natural way. Katie might NOT be brainwashed. Who the hell knows. All I know is that Suri Cruise is a cute little Sim baby and she sure as hell is older than they claim.

Now let's put this all in prespective, shall we? Does any of this really matter? Do I really care? Absolutely not. In the grand scheme of my life, these people will not play any signifant roles . . .but it sure is fun to think about how fucked up these rich, pampered celebrities lives are compared to my boring one.

The not-so-great job search . . .

When do we go from thinking that we can do everything to thinking we can't do anything? Maybe I should be asking myself this question because maybe I'm the only person who is fighting against this mentality . . .

I have bills that won't pay themselves. I can't ask my parents to help out with them and honestly, do I really want them to? I totally know that I should be self-sufficient and shouldn't take advantage of my parent's generosity. Aside from that, who's to say that they can help me? So I need to get another part time job, in addition, because as much as I love The 9:30 Club, it doesn't pay very well. But every single job I come across, I hate.

I'm miserable letting money be my deciding factor or motivation for anything. I am not on of those lucky(?) people who can just "have a job" for the sake of having one. I tried it for almost nine months and I wanted to claw my eyes out everyday. It was THAT bad. I felt like I was living a lie and I felt STUCK.

Am I just being a big baby? I have no idea.

Hunting for a job, something you spend a significant amount of time at, is just so hard for me. I made a vow that I wouldn't work in a boring office job again because I literally can't do it. I've proven that to myself time and time again. Somehow, they are just easy to find and everyone else just does it . . .but I'm not like everyone else. Obviously.

I need to tap into my creativity a little more and really just GO for whatever it is that I truly want. I really want to be in the entertainment industry, but it's so hard to break into for so many different reasons. For me, the complicating factor is that I don't know WHAT I want to do in the industry. The touring life seems lonely and kinda crappy to me now, after witnessing more of it firsthand. I would really like to perform, but sadly, my voice isn't what it used to be. Acting? I've taken acting classes before. It's fun, but is it a passion? Not really.

Writing is something I thoroughly enjoy. I would love to make money just writing about my thoughts and feelings . . .sort of what I do in this blog. I am going to try my best to figure out how to make this a reality.

So I'm trying to make my life resemble me. In doing that, there's bound to be loads of stress and dirty looks, but for me, this is the only option.

Maybe I need to get my ass to NYC or LA, but right now, I can't afford it. I'm not ready to make the big move yet because right now I need to continue on this change in my life.

Now I'm about to get all metaphysical up in this piece. God (or whoever is in charge up there) is making it clear to me that I need to follow bliss. I need to follow passion because to be completely honest, I'm not good at much else. Maybe this motivating factor isn't a Superior Being and maybe it's just my own Inner Voice, or my Inner Confidence, that is letting me know I'm on the right track. It seems as though listening to this voice and following my True Calling makes perfect sense.

So I have to be strong. Money makes people weak. Not keeping an eye on the prize makes people falter. I've fallen off track before and it's so much harder than just going for what I truly want. Ironic, isn't it?

And you know what, thinking too much is one of my numerous downfalls. So, I think I'm going to stop analyzing my life so much. It's giving me a headache.

"EAT FAT"

I'm reading this book by an author named Richard Klein called "Eat Fat" or "Fat Fat" . . . the interpretation of the title is up to the reader. It's a postmodern "diet" book, but really, it's not a diet at all. It's about America's preoccupation with fat connoting something negative rather than just seeing it for what it is- a fat cell. It illustrates the myths we have about fat and society's perceptions that are constantly shoved down our throats. I've just started it, so I will have to continue reading to really get a grasp for his arguments.

My body image has ALWAYS been an issue. I was a chubby kid and teased relentlessly for it. I hated being fat. I didn't think I was beautiful and I felt like I was the ugliest thing ever to walk this dearth. Now, did I really, truly feel this from inside my being or was I just manifesting in my own brain what everyone else thought about me? It's definitely the latter. I think without the input of everyone around me (the kids, mainly) telling me how fat I was and making fun of me for it, I would have been okay. I would have noticed I was different but, perhaps, I wouldn't have actually cared.

The same could be said for when I realized I was black. I never actually thought about it until everyone else started telling me about it. I wasn't brought up being über conscious of my race. It was just something I was, like being tall or having dark brown hair and eyes. The adjective "fat" could have been lumped with it, too, but somehow FAT became it's own monster. It ate up all the rest of me.

Now when I look at my body, I think I'm beautiful. Sure, I could lose a few more pounds, but I've loved every single bite that it took to get to where I am today. Sure, I agonize over eating fries or taking a few extra bites at dinner (never about eating dessert though), but I'm working on that. This path to enlightenment that I'm on doesn't have time for me to take a break counting calories. I just know there is far more to life. I'm not "accepting" my body or "excusing" my shape. That implies that I need to make an extra effort and that I'm not wonderful the way I am.

It saddens me when girls don't eat in order to be skinny. It annoys me when people think thin equals beautiful. This anorexic mentality is what makes girls think they're not good enough. But not good enough for who? Why would you want to be good enough for someone, or a society, that lessens you to numbers on a scale? I sure as hell don't. How I feel inside is good enough for me. Being healthy is good enough for me. I happen to love and appreciate curves on my body and on others. It means that we're happy and that we've indulged in good food with good friends. It means we're alive.

One day I will have a daughter and I pray to God that she'll be confident, happy and will not even need to write a blog about her body image because the whole concept of not being proud of what she looks like will be foreign to her. One day I'll have babies that will sleep on my full breasts. I'll rest them on my wide hips. I'll have a husband that loves my thick thighs. And then, maybe, I'll forget every negative thing anyone else has had the nerve to say about my body.
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Man, I could really go for some pumpkin pie . . .

The great job search . . .

Well, to say I've been less than passionate about most of my jobs I've had since I've graduated college is an understatement. The only one I've truly loved and enjoyed is working at The 9:30 Club, but unfortunately, I am being paid next to nothing. I'm going to try to put in more hours there (as detrimental to my sleep as it is), while looking for another PT job. It's very stressful, but at this point, I need to do it because I have many bills to pay. BLEH!

I am not really into any job I come across. I think sometimes I have the answers and other times, I don't.

I need to focus.

I'm also thinking about another change to my blog. Stay tuned. :)

It's me . . .

I'm needy. And one guy called me so in a passive-aggressive way, but only, I didn't really "need" him. I just felt sorry and guilty for rejecting him, so I started putting extra effort in our friendship. Then he acted all weird.

But, cut to this morning, I'm hung-over and went to bed sort of angry and alone last night and woke up wondering why the hell I was so affected by last night. I'll say it again: I'm needy. I become even more so after being tipsy.

I can't even go into the whole story or how I thought things were going and why they stopped, but I will say this: I'm utterly and completely sick of needing the unavailable and immature BOYS who do not seem to get it. And by "get it," I don't necessarily only mean me, I mean life.

I don't care if you're 30 years old, you're still a boy. I may "only" be 23, but I'm a woman.

I thought going after an older guy would be easier, because they know what the want, right? Wrong. Boys are boys, no matter their age. A man is a man, no matter his age.

I like challenges. I like winning the prize. It's a lonely habit I have because the "prize" is almost never worth the effort.

And also, one person can't do it on their own. Be a man about it. I've decided I want a man now. That's it. No more boys. I'll leave them for the girls. I'm not going to run away from the good MEN anymore. I've done it before because it's more exciting to have drama, but you know what? DRAMA IS FUCKING BORING NOW.

Going to work is going to be a little less exciting after these developments, but I'll survive.

Ugh. Sometimes I think my love life and experiences with men is just one big joke for "God," or whoever it is that runs this place, to laugh at. Well hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahhahahahahahahaha.

Cool Stuff

Pandora: radio from the Music Genome Project

I read in a magazine about this Internet radio website that uses scientific formulas to guess your musical tastes and suggest music you might like based on those tastes. I tried it by entering various bands I like and seeing the music the suggested. Then I entered various songs I like as well. I think the specific song option works far better than entering a band, since bands evolve and change. It's a pretty neat concept.

One thing I don't like about it, and where I think it fails in it's task, is that lyrics aren't added as a factor. Lyrics are a big point for me, being a writer, so I just can't connect to good music without good lyrics. Like, what is the music saying? I feel like often times lyrics are the heart and soul of a song. You can't always determine the mood of the songs by the key, tempo or any other musical characteristic. Minor does not always equal sad and major does not always equal happy. It's more complicated than that.

So maybe they don't have the scientific technology to detect the lyrical stylings of songs. Imagine that, science not being able to process the complications of soul and emotion . . .


Happy Friday, y'all! :)

Music + Me

It's 4:45am and due to coffee and pumpkin pie late tonight with a friend, I am having trouble sleeping. Lucky you, I have decided to write because that's what I do when I can't sleep.

So, I've always wished I could stick to an instrument. I took keyboarding lessons and was actually pretty good at keyboards/piano, but I got bored and quit. Couldn't stick with it and am ashamed to call myself a pianist.

My dad tried to teach me guitar at age 12 and I feel in love with the idea of being an awesome guitarist, but I never felt the connection to the guitar. I took lessons professionally at age 22 and still couldn't connect with it. I gave up after a couple of months.

I studied music for a year at Drexel and liked it, but thought it was pointless. I have kept in loose contact with some of my friends that graduated and most of them are still not working in the music business, despite paying $160,000 on their education and for that, I have no regrets about not staying there.

When I talk to people about being a musician, I have to laugh because I don't identify with it and don't think I am. I feel fraudulent and awkward telling people that I play piano or guitar, because truthfully, I don't. I own a keyboard and borrowed a guitar from my dad, but I don't play either of them well or frequent enough to claim ownership . . .and I've never had the inclination to do so.

I DID participate in choir ever since I was allowed to. It goes back to being in second grade, finding out that my elementary school's chorus was going to sing with Michael Jackson at President Clinton's inauguration and that I was too young to do so because you had to be in third grade to be in chorus. From that day on, I swore I'd ALWAYS be in chorus and sing. I did lots of choirs, had solos, loved performing. I took private voice lessons in college. I WAS really good at voice, but in the past few years, I've pretty much abandoned that, which is something that I have grown to regret.

Now I'm finally, at age 23, trying to actively accomplish my lifelong goal of being in a band. I've always wanted to do it, but the opportunity never presented itself. Even being around a bunch of musicians at Drexel, we never formed a band. How pathetic. I just love performing and being on stage. I feel most comfortable there.

I love being around music at my night job all the time right now. I've learned so much just being in the environment. I've learned there is nothing romantic or exciting about touring or being backstage at a show. I've learned that some rock stars are douche bags. I've learned some are really awesome. I've learned the crew and tour guys are horny. I just love being around people who are going for what the truly want. I'm hoping some of it will wear off on me.

Letter from the Editor

Hi everyone,

I have been a terrible blogger as of late. I am working on it though. I think I'm going to have to go back to some sort of schedule for topics each day because if I don't have anything to write about, I usually don't write. That simply doesn't work for a blog, does it? I will have to modify my topics.

Today I'm painting a bathroom for my mom. I'm being given free reign to redecorate it as I wish. That lady is so trusting. I'm also still looking for another part time job to supplement my working at The 9:30 Club. I need to get health insurance and I also need to defer some student loans while I'm not making anything. Bleh bleh bleh. I knew all of this was bound to happen once I quit my full-time, well-paying gig, but peace of mind is, well, priceless.

Oh and I still am thinking about moving to NYC, but I don't know if now is the right time. I think I'm going to try to visit soon though. Maybe I need to be in the environment once more to motivate me again. I am seriously losing motivation.

Today I got to download the new Radiohead album "In Rainbows." I have yet to listen to it, but plan on doing so today. I only paid $1.00 for it! AMAZING!

Well, now it's off to do these things I say I need to do. Plan this blog, pain the bathroom, get a PT job, health insurance and defer student loans, move to NYC, listen to the new Radiohead album. My work is never done . . .

Have a great day and I'll see you tomorrow.

♥,
A

FYI

I AM: changing, evolving, and optimistic
I WANT: clarity and happiness
I WISH: i had it all figured out
I HATE: meanness, negativity
I MISS: oblivion, blind innocence and freedom
I FEAR: depression, not living life to it's fullest
I HEAR: music and my inner voice
I WONDER: about life
I REGRET: forgetting my gift and purpose
I AM NOT: alone or weak
I DANCE: when I want
I SING: because I can
I CRY: when I'm overwhelmed
I AM NOT ALWAYS: happy
I MAKE WITH MY HANDS: food? knots when i tie my shoe . . .everything? i don't know.
I WRITE: like I breathe
I CONFUSE: myself and others
I NEED: love
I START: now
I FINISH: then
I LOVE: you and all
I REMEMBER: your hands on my hips
I TAG: everyone

Britney's New Video

In short, she just dances on a stripper pole throughout the whole song. I guess she looks okay (well, like a relatively pretty stripper), but the video doesn't make sense. There is no story line and the video is boring as hell. It's just so disappointing. I was really rooting for her, but she's just a hopeless mess and it seems like she doesn't care anymore . . .so why should the public? Seriously, we need to boycott this chick.

Someone I Admire. . .

Hi everyone,

Okay, time to lighten this up and focus on someone other than myself! Here is my dear friend and ex co-worker, Katie. She's probably the only reason I lasted at my first job as long as I did. She is such a strong and amazing person. I'm so lucky to have gotten the chance to get to know her . . .


Love this picture! HAHA!

Name: Katie Saltzman

Age: 22

Where's your favorite place to be? Home on the Eastern Shore with family playing by the Bay :)

What do you think is beautiful? Triumph, in any form.

Are you living your dream? If so, how? If not, what are you doing to reach it?
--> I have many dreams.... I am learning who I am, and finding what I love, so I am on my way to my dreams. My dream for my 22 year old self is to just be happy with what I have, and I'm definitely making the most of it.

If money weren't an issue, how would you live your life?
--> I would move back to the Eastern Shore, live on the water, and write for my local newspaper. Simplicity=happy.

Describe your favorite outfit?
--> Jeans, a random teeee shirt, and my old dirty chucks that I've had since 8th grade. Super hot yes I know.

What's your favorite word?
-->Shit-ton.

What makes you unique?
--> I'm totally a comedian. but besides that fact, I am loyal to a fault, and that is hard to find these days...

What's your drink of choice?
--> Tom Collins.

What are your three favorite albums?
--> ohhhhhhhh man. Hardest question EVER. 1. Nirvana -- Incesticide; 2. Regina Spektor -- a mixture of 11:11, Songs and Soviet Kitsch ( I could NEVER pick just one...). 3. The Clash -- London Calling.

If you could give the 13-year-old you any advice whatsoever, what would it be?
-->YOU DON'T HAVE TO TRY TO FIX EVERYONE ELSE'S PROBLEMS. Even if you love them, it doesn't have to be your battle.


Stay beautiful. ♥

Back

So last night as I sat in the Backbar nursing the familiar sting of my vodka tonic, I engaged in a heavy debate with a male co-worker over an assessment of my virtually non-existent relationship history. Sure, I’ve dated around and met many, many men that I’ve entertained the idea of starting a real relationship with, but really that’s all it ever was- entertainment. But sometimes I think about who is it that’s really being entertained anymore? I’m bored with all the predictability of men all being assholes in disguise, or more often than not, flamboyantly determined to “just” sleeping with me. (Since when did being a free spirit and having commitment issues mean that I’m a slut?)

I diverted my attention from my heated exchange to say goodbye to another guy I work with, who I’ve been inexplicably drawn to since day one. He was in earshot of our discussion, but he wasn’t talking with us. He was reading. He’s a friendly introverted guy who, over the past few weeks, I’ve been trying to get to know. (Perhaps break him out of his shell by breaking out of mine?)

As he walked out of the back door of the Backbar, he threw up his hands into two peace signs while he, oh-so descriptively, said “Peace!” I unintentionally pouted.

“You’re leaving?”
He smiled, said “yes” and that was the end.

I got so sad inside, feeling the familiar sting of inapproachability and regret. I continued my conversation with my intrigued and “concerned” co-worker about my commitment issues.

Suddenly, it all hit me. Now, I’m quite well-versed and well-aware of my psychological shortcomings, but this was such a blatant revelation that I experienced watching the dark mysterious man’s back as he walked away from me fill me with such longing and dread. It just all felt too familiar.

I would describe the guys I’m more often than not attracted to as possessing the following qualities:

-smart
-quiet
-general pleasant disposition
-mysterious
-troubled
-dark
-slightly moody
-unavailable
-emotionally blocked

In other words, I’d describe them as my father. My dad, although I love him to death and have grown to be more of a friend to him as I have gotten older, has major, major, attachment (detachment?) issues. He’s always just beyond my reach. He’s completely emotionally unavailable, thus why I find myself drawn to these men because however frustrated I am by them and seemingly unable to relate- I get them. They’re comfortable.

And I want it to stop. I don’t want these types of self-destructive relationships. It’s self-protective, I know, but I am sick of not letting any of them in all the way or claiming that they won't let me in and then blaming them for being the way they are. It’s me who needs to change and I get it. It’s understood. I just don’t know how to go about this transformation.

I have met some really sweet, kind guys that I’ve turned away for one reason or another, but mostly because they were easy and . . .uncomfortable. I’ve heard about this problem I have from a lot of people, but I have been unwilling to listen and change, but now I’m ready. I’m sick of my bi-polar comfort zone. I know it’s not supposed to be like this.

But I’ll always wish he’d come back. I just know it.