Because You're Worth It?

It might be just an ad campaign slogan, but it does bring about a good idea. At least that was how my brain thought about it today while it tried desperately to keep from falling down the rabbit hole of unconsciousness. Today was a continuation of not being filtered. But in a more internal sort of way. Today I was brutally honest, bold and outspoken to myself. I decided I wanted to trade in my gold four door, and get a black pick up truck. I decided even if there was a boy who wanted to date me, it'd be hard to do because I'm kind of dating my house. Either by making sure the kitchen is clean, double checking that the pup is taken care of, keeping up with the five guys I am privileged to live with, and occasionally spending an evening cooking or baking something for all of us to enjoy and calm down over. So, the boy who ends up wanting to be in my life, better make sure it's all worth it. What really struck me today was how badly I do not want to be in college. I keep having this repetitive de ja vu where it feels like I'm doing the same thing over and over again, and I always have the same level of excitement or passion for it. Which is borderline zero. It's like a modern version of Bill Murray's "Groundhog Day". What ever happened to Bill? "Lost in Translation" was like four years ago. Anyways. I'm liking the idea of going to massage therapist school. Doing some kind of accelerated course and being done with classes as soon as humanly possible. It is not worth it to me to be stuck in courses that make me want to never pick up a book again or put pen to paper. I do not have time for that, especially when Iran getting all trigger happy all over again. That shit is scary. So with the ever present carpe diem mentality, I have decided to start researching schools, used black trucks, and new cookie recipes. For the guys, of course. Because to me, that's what makes it all worth while. Taking care of yourself and the ones you love. F society and the educational societal norms. We only get to do this once, right? So I want to do things that won't wash out or fade over time, I want a life that is vibrant and multi-faceted. Because, I'm worth it.

A Brief Moment

There is one thing to be said for being tired all the time: you're uninhibited. You say things you wouldn't have said had you got enough sleep. You take action in ways you wouldn't if you had the rational thinking rest provides. And you wouldn't be bold enough to talk to people who otherwise would have intimidated the shit out of you. Being exhausted can be freeing. The brief moments where I was once unafraid of repercussion when I was fully rested, now happen all the time. My brain is too tired to filter what I'm doing. It's two thirty am, I have to be out the door at seven. When I crawl out of bed I will have a thirteen hour day to look forward to. But hey, what do I care? I don't even get a moments pause to think about it all. If things start going bad, I'll just lean over and make a new friend. I'm learning that it's not that hard. Apparently all you have to be is tired.

Let It Rip

I have a strange feeling that this week is going to be one long free fall. And when I try to pull the rip cord, there will be no parachute. It might be problematic. I was sitting in Philosophy class today and I was so disgusted by the conversation that I ready to drop out of college completely. The whole idea of it is so perverse to me. And if you really focus on it, it seems unnatural. The things that I am supposed to be learning in college will not be my parachute. There is no way. In the long run I see myself caring for a family and writing when I have the time. I like caring for people, I'm good at it. It comes naturally. My mother was a great example of how caring for people can be the most rewarding thing there is. School and college is something "they" created to keep us in line. Well I feel like stepping out of line, politely. I'm not going to start anarchy or develop a new kind of cult. I just don't feel my life and my skills are best utilized through college. Maybe I should go to massage therapist school. It's a form of caring for people, and you don't have to sit in a classroom that often. That's one of the many things that get to me, sitting in those white washed classrooms. I think the color is designed to suck the future right out of you. I can't stand it. Life seems to be passing me by. I don't like that feeling at all. Sometimes, usually after a couple of glasses of White Zin, this phrase returns to me: Gone and forgotten, before I had a chance to remember it. I first thought of it while riding my bike back to my first house from campus. It was so true. Everything around me seems to gone before I even had a chance to remember it. Today was like one long de ja vu, but it was stronger then that. I had sat in those classrooms before, I had typed a paper four minutes before it was due before, I had contributed to class discussion without having read the material before. I'm on some kind of weird pseudo auto pilot. I don't think I should be at that point already. I'm a little too young for that. Or, at least, I think so. I should be enjoying what I'm learning, and not zoning out and day dreaming. I should be okay with the parachute I have strapped to by back. Because, honestly, the one I have right now doesn't look all that appealing to pull. That's a problem, no?

No Signal, Searching For A Network

One of the guys I live with has just adopted two kids. Two representations that not only is he heavily involved with his girlfriend, but they have begun to start a family. At this point it's only a technological family, him and his girlfriend are getting a "family plan" with their new cell phones, but these days that means more then owning a dog together. A cell phone baby requires commitment, and a contract. You're locked in for two years, and where diapers should be you have hidden charges. And in place of first steps you have free texts. In my opinion they were already on the family highway, maybe not in the express lane, but definitely driving at a steady pace. They're starting a family, cellular instead of nuclear, and I can't even text someone to get a drink on a Saturday night. Don't let me be misunderstood, because I have no hostility towards them at all, but it does sting a little when you see someone wearing Banana Republic and you're wearing last seasons cardigan. It's only a problem because I let it be one. Singlehood is not the end of everything. And I'd rather take the time to find a good signal then try to pick up a bad connection. It's hard to find a network that fits your schedule and where you are in life. Terminating a phone plan because it was a bad fit hits you with fees, terminating a relationship because it was bad hits you with emotional fees. So maybe it's not a matter of being single, but a matter of finding the right signal. Or sending the right signal. Maybe it's me, maybe I'm sending all the right signals. I decided a long time ago that I wouldn't go out of my way to change service in hopes of getting a good connection, so maybe that comes off as being a bitch. Or stubborn. Which isn't the case at all, I just have standards. And if the plan isn't working, I'll drop it faster then when I went from AT&T to Verizon. I shouldn't, and never will, have to dial a new number just to have a guy pick up, but at the same time I shouldn't feel like I'm in a dead zone. My texts might be unlimited, but my patience is not. There are some things you can rely on to always connect: friends, a good spaghetti dinner, the complete first season of SATC and English tea. That's my new thing, SATC and English tea. I get all the seasons for free from work, so I'm going back through all of them again. All the way at the beginning, connecting with it all over again. Not sure how much longer I'll be able to get it from work for free, today was a disaster. And on Thursday I was so tired I showed up at the wrong job. I was supposed to open Job One, but I showed up at Job Two. It all worked out alright, but I see it as an omen. I can't keep this kind of schedule up much longer. But at the same time, I kind of have to. Truth be told, I'm trying to be in too many networks and I'm just ending up getting fuzzy signals from all of them. I need to try and consolidate my life and dial less numbers, less area codes. I'm all over the place. Live here, work there, class over there, work down there, friends up here. Both my mind, and my phone, is on overload. Sometimes it feels like my battery is burning out, and I have to recharge more often then I use to. Is this getting old, or just another upgrade I didn't sign up for. Seems like life is getting just as complicated as the newest cell phones, but I don't remember why I have all these apps. What happened to good old dial phones. I crave that a lot more then a busy signal. I keep trying to dial the old fashioned way, but the only response I get is "If you'd like to make a call, please hang up and dial again." That's not productive.

Chicks Dig Scars

I grew up in a cul-de-sac, in the suburbs outside of Chicago. It was kind of boring in that circle, because it wasn't a full blown street. It was like a blemish on the street it was connected to. I wanted to live on street more like Wisteria Lane even before I knew about a Wisteria Lane. Although the blemish was dull, it did have it's highlights. No one ever drove through it, so I would roller blade in circles for hours without worrying about getting run down. Except this one time when a random car did pull in, and I had to slide out of the way. After silently cursing with a new found swear word, I realized I was alive and well. Except for the rock sticking out of my knee. I still have the scar to this day, and every time I tell this story at least one person says, "it's cool, chicks dig scars". I'm not completely sure what "chicks" dig, but I am realizing a disturbing trend when it comes to scars. I don't mean the kind of scab you pick at because it got itchy, I am referring to the more hidden scars, the mental scars and the emotional scars. There seems to be an unspoken competition as to who is more f-ed up. Nowadays it seems necessary to have at least tow tales of how someone done you wrong. You're not supposed to have easy break ups and happy goodbyes. You're supposed to have sutures all over your heart and brain due to the immeasurable damages done to you. The in thing these days seems to be getting thrown out, of a relationship that is. Having scars and baggage seems to the new must have item. Forget about strapping on an Omega watch or carrying a Louis Vuitton bag, now you strap on your last relationships hatred and carry your ex's insecurities. I would even go so far as to say anti-coupling has replaced coupling. Matching yourself up with someone when you know it's going to go bad sooner rather then later, just because you know it'll be a good story to tell later. I think this is a terrible trend, worse then pajama pants making a comeback and more disastrous then the band aid dress. We should be attempting to put band aids on our wounds and cleaning up our cuts. The only kind of burn or scab I want is the one I got while trying to make a romantic dinner.

Empty Bed, Empty Head

This weekend was more of just an extended work week. I put into full shifts at both of my jobs. It was mostly a blur of car travel and customer service, until Sunday evening. One of the guys a live with turned twenty one. I don't think I need to say anymore then that. I was one of the drivers so no drinking for me, but it was fun enough getting to keep track and take care of all of those who were drinking. A few of them apologized for being so crazy and thanked me for watching over them, but I really don't mind that kind of thing. I'm good at it. I excel at it. I like it. I have no problem caring for the people I love. This evening was a really, really good time. But it also made me remember( like I could ever forget?) how much I miss having a guy in my life. I like caring for him. Listening to his day. Cooking for him. Looking out for him. Having a great time with him. Once again, it's something I excel at. I really miss having someone to cuddle up to before going to sleep. Having an empty bed sort of feels like I'm not doing everything I could be doing. I'm good at both my jobs. I'm great at being a friend. I'm crap at school. I'm an above average baker. But I excel at relationships, and not being in one feels like a part of my brain is not getting exercised. Like a big chunk of brain is just empty, vacant. I don't like that feeling. I'm not going to lie, I let the puppy sleep on my bed last night, and it was the best sleep I've had in a long time. Just having a beating heart to fall asleep to. Feeling someone roll over in the night. I miss that. All is not lost though. The temperatures a dropping which means layered clothing, and everyone looks cuter in layers. When done properly. And it means I can live in my black cardigans. Which I look proper in. It'd just be so much nicer if I had a guy who fit properly with me. And we could be proper together. And have a proper relationship....And wear argyle. Ok, obviously I need to go to bed now.

Time Goes Bye

When I was really little I got lost in a Target. Not so much lost, has separated from my family. I remember it very well. I stopped in front of the watches to look at the cool Batman watch, and the Power Ranger watch and the Ninja Turtle watch. They were so cool to look at because they were bright and lit up and made tick tock noises. So there I stood mesmerized by the time pieces when I suddenly realized I was standing all by myself. It wasn't long before a nice worker lady scooped me up and was about to take me to the front desk, or whatever desk they take lost children to, but before we got to there my mom had caught up to us and taken me back. It wasn't so much a traumatic experience as it was a learning experience. I already knew not to wander away by myself, and not to run immediately to the toy aisle, so there was no lesson about staying put or minding where you are. The lesson I walked away with that day so many years ago was this: time sucks. Ok, so I didn't phrase it like that back then. But I discovered that time is a tricky, unfriendly, mean thing that is evil to us. I tried to stand still for just a moment, and I wound up lost and in the arms of a stranger. Funny how that works. It's still applicable to me today too. I have no time to write, or create or draw or paint or do leisure reading. All of my hours and minutes are broken up into categories. Work, school, eating, sleeping, miscellaneous. And then those categories are broken down further into subcategories. My life is just thirty minute intervals. This might sound like I'm complaining, but it's more of me being surprised. Again and again and again. How times goes bye so quickly. It up and friggin leaves, just walks out the door. And it takes everything with it. Places, experiences, laughter, tears, people...love. Try as you might, you never get to stop and stare at the watches, because even if you do they are still ticking away. Eventually you reach the day when no one, stranger or not, will be there to pick you up. Because that takes time out of their day. And who can afford to do that when time goes bye so quickly?