It Would be My Honor to be Your Maid

This blog is too damn depressing. Seriously, stop reading it, I'm way too much of a Debby Downer. I promise to keep things a bit more light hearted from here on out. What do I have to complain about? The quarter-life-crisis is over and that sad excuse for a boyfriend is out of my life. Things are good!! The sun is shining and I feel like twirling with a bright pink umbrella!

I've decided to work 4 ten hour days this week. I'm starting to think that this was a poor choice, but the three day weekend I have to look forward to is really worth the long hours. Thursday night we are going to see The New Frontiers at The Falcon. I'm so excited! First off, The Falcon is a bowling alley AND a music venue. Good God, does it get any better than that? I submit that it does not. And TNF are just a good group of guys. Genny knows them and through her amazing networking skillz, I have become acquainted with the band as well. They have requested a hottubbing session after their set... This night could get interesting, but it’s something much needed since the whole Mikey Brian fiasco. I can turn my attention to some other than MB for once and the best part is that they leave the next day and I can go back to flying solo. Love it! Wow, I sound like a whore. Those of you who know me well know I'm not talking about sexy time. So get your mind out of the gutter and get on the abstinence bus! Ok, now I just sound like a dork.

Speaking of Mikey Brian, haven't heard much from him lately, other than his cursed facebook statuses (stati?) that pop up on my newsfeed. I hate it and I need it all at the same time. I’ve come to understand myself as something of a masochist. I do things and thrive on things that really aren’t good for me, but it’s just my way of working through stuff. Pretty soon I won’t care anymore and I won’t even think to look twice when his name appears on my status list… Facebook is taking over my life.

After work today I am going to go pick up my brand new bike! And by brand new, I mean really really old. But it's brand new to me, and apparently it's neon. And you know me, I'm a fan of anything that showcases the colors of the rainbow. I'll post pictures once I get it! Now if I could only get up to catch the bus, I'll never have to drive again!

My sister is getting married! I am so excited! I am, of course, the maid of honor. I am so happy for her and really believe she and Bryan are going to be so happy. And the best part? His last name is Grizwald! Hahaha. It’s so amazing I could throw up. It’s gotten me to thinking about wedding music and what would be tragically romantic and freakin hilarious to play, you can read that little piece of blogging dribble at http://www.misikal.com/. It hits the web tomorrow morning, so keep an eye out!

Ok, enough plugging. I should get back to work, but I’d like to leave you with this one musical recommendation. Sleeping at Last. Check them out. They’ve got the greatest lyrics, especially if you’re going through a difficult thime. Their words are like a supportive thumbs, saying “you done good kid, and you’re gonna be ok.” They saved me quite a few times, and I think good things like that shouldn’t be kept a secret :)

I'm Getting My Damn IPod Back

You know, these past few days I’ve been racking my brain. Did I do the right thing? Was I over reacting about that night with the bathroom incident? Well there you have it, some strange force in our world telling me to doubt my intuition. I KNEW she was a slut and I KNEW he was an ass.

Well, turns out I was right. Good luck with him honey, you’re gonna need it. Because in a few weeks he’ll be tired of you too and end up in a bathroom with a girl sluttier than yourself. Enjoy.

A Piece of Something Bigger

Some thoughts on love I wrote a few weeks ago.

"...love is such a huge thing, or so I hear. I know love isn't like the movies or the songs or the Jane Austen novels. But it's big in a different way. It means respect and the utmost honesty, and the promise that you trust this one person with your heart, and they promise to take care of it. But people are flawed and they forget to keep their promises. That's why it's so scary.

When you decide succumb to love, you have made a conscious decision to let down your walls and allow the potential of heart break to enter your life because this beautiful person you have found is worth it in every way. You know that no matter how much they could hurt you in the future, or how badly everything could end, you wouldn’t give up what you have with them right now for anything.

That is love."

Am I completely off? Those of you who have actually BEEN in love, let me know what you think...

My Deepest Apologies to Elizabeth and Susan

Man it’s hard to be a chick these days. Ok, maybe not as hard as it was for Elizabeth Cady Stanton, but still, there are some things that have been grinding my gears lately. I think society has fooled us into thinking we are completely liberated and free to speak our mind on anything. And for some brave women, this is very true. I mean, say what you will about Hilary Clinton, but at least she’s standing up and speaking her mind, regardless if you agree with what she’s saying. On that principle alone, I think she’s great. And my friend Caitlyn, who amazes me everything time she stands up for her and is respected for it. But take someone like me for example. I’m no submissive housewife, but I’m also not exactly outspoken. This has really become clear to me in my relationships with men. And not just MY relationships, most women in general deal with this. We are forced to do this incredibly difficult balancing act. As women we want to be respected and to be able to speak our minds and be completely open and honest in everything we do, but as girlfriends we are forced to hold back and choose our words and timing carefully at the risk of being labeled “clingy.” I hate that word. I think that could be the most feared word by women in the relationship dictionary. Heaven forbid we let someone know we care about them and shame on us for getting upset when the person we are “with” blatantly snubs us at a party for a girl in a low cut shirt and an eager eye. Not that I’m bitter or anything.

There’s this “author” Christian Carter. He writes about relationships and how women can “keep” their men and get them to commit. I’ll admit, I read his newsletter because I figure I can use all the help I can get. But honestly, the guy just pisses me off more than helps me out. His advice is full of what the woman is doing wrong. He encourages us to think about what WE (women) are doing wrong in every single situation. Every trouble in a relationship can obviously be blamed on both people involved, but this misogynistic idiot tells women that if they change everything about themselves in order to give their “man” enough space to breathe, eventually he’ll come around and decide he’ll keep you for a while longer. And if it doesn’t work out, well you clearly scared him away. Never mind most men are “scared” of commitment because what of society has told us it looks like (eh hem, Everybody Loves Raymond). No, it’s clearly the way you approached the situation. Honesty is really never the best policy; you need to trick him into being with you.

He writes a lot about “the talk,” where you decide where the relationship is going and if you both are ready for a commitment. But apparently being straight with a man and lying everything out for him is a deadly mistake. Apparently men are a fragile species who run away at the first sign of honesty. So censor yourself ladies. Quiet those inclinations to speak your mind to the people you care about, that is if you want to keep them around.

I’m, as usual, speaking from experience. For the past few weeks I’ve noticed the relationship I’ve been in has fizzled a bit… Ok a lot. I’ve gotten so wrapped up in what I should say and what I shouldn’t say and what that could mean for us. And I think that’s actually good, obviously there’s a difference between censorship and choosing our words wisely, but I’ve held so much back and keep my mouth shut so I can be the “cool girlfriend.” The one who doesn’t care if he disappears into a bathroom with another girl for 20 minutes, or if said girl is hanging all over him all night. No no, I’ll put up a happy front and put up with him, because that’s what good little girls do. I think the last straw for me was when ass and slut emerged from the bathroom, slut wiped her mouth off and when I told ass I was leaving he looked at me with sad yet willing eyes and said “well I thought we could… you know, hang out some more.” Oh YES! Please, let’s go fool around now that you’ve finished with Slutty McSlutterson over there. Nothing puts me in the mood like infidelity and blatant disrespect.

He, of course, is blissfully oblivious and I, of course, still care for him, and God only knows why. A stronger woman would’ve kicked this kid to the curb weeks ago, but I still hang on, trying to be optimistic and not judge him for things he did while drinking. I mean he DID call me when he got home, at 5 in the morning, completely drunk. But at least he called right? Susan B Anthony is turning in her grave right now and I don’t blame her a bit.

The Testimonial of a Self-Proclaimed “Deeply Single Person”

There are a lot of words for what I am. Quirkyalone, independent, deeply single, emotionally incapable of a healthy, long lasting relationship… the list goes on. But I’ve finally come to a place in my life where I can honestly say that 95% of the time I would rather be alone. I would rather wake up in my bed, stretched out diagonally, taking up all the sheets and mattress rather than huddled with my corner of the comforter and worrying about morning breath. I would rather cook dinner for myself and have left overs for a week than share with someone who will eat their fair share and leave me with maybe one day’s worth of food, tops. I would rather struggle with 10 bags of groceries and 3 trips to my car parked a block away and have a sense of self satisfaction than call up my “knight in shining armor” to help me. I would rather wear pants for 2 weeks and not shave my legs. There, I said it. The jig is up.

I’ve always been a rather social person, but I also require a large amount of down time to level myself out. I need self reflection and quiet nights at home to reach a place in my life where I can function normally around other human beings. Candles are a blessing and inspirational books are a necessity in my life. It’s hard to reach this type of sanity when you are constantly in the arms of another person, wondering if he’s noticed your un-manicured nail beds and not-so-perfect skin. Udder madness if you ask me and not something I can stomach for very long.
I have this theory, for us “quirkyalones” as Sasha Cagen so lovingly named us. We’re not like the rest of the world’s women out there searching desperately of their soul mate. I have already found mine. They are my best friends. People of the opposite sex are just here for our amusement and when they aren’t amusing anymore, we shouldn’t waste another moment of our precious and sacred sanity on them. Don’t get me wrong, love is not a game and I don’t believe in toying with other people’s emotions. But when every night brings with it disappointment and that deep connection you yearn for so much just isn’t there, it’s time to light some candles and reevaluate some things.

I think there comes a point in any relationship where you have to shake yourself out of the denial you’ve been living in and realize that when he’s coming over to see you, you SHOULD be excited. And if you’re not, well that’s a bright red flag. And when you’d rather spend time with your friends 100% of the time and use them as excuses to distance yourself, well that’s another bright red flag. And pretty soon you have red flags coming out your ears and this “fairy tale” has lost its magic. It’s time for the talk.

But how does one go about this “talk.” The longest relationship I’ve ever had was 2 weeks, and the last breakup chat I had to do was through a text message. Wow, I’m really making myself look good here… The point is, “the talk” is never an easy one (and definitely something that should not be done electronically) and I have very little experience with it. So I have some options. I could be mature and direct. Sit him down; tell him calmly and maturely that things just aren’t what they used to be and that I think we are going different directions in life. Or I could write him a Dear John letter. This option has a lovely olde world, romantic charm to it. Like something out of Far From the Madding Crowd or a Jane Austen novel. I could buy a calligraphy set and pen something tragically romantic and depressing, leaving it on his door and giving it a kiss, as if I were kissing him goodbye, one last time… Or I can go the conniving route and get him to break up with me, which not only is less work for me in the long run, but gives me a solid reason to have a good cry and eat a lot of chocolate.

So for now I’ll surround myself with shiny happy things. I’ll put my feet in the grass and reconnect with the earth. I’ll remind myself that I am all I need to survive in this world and that having someone there beside me, while a blessing a truly something to be thankful for, will not save my life, or even make my life. Today is my life, and who knows how many I have left. I’d rather not spend them worrying about my nail beds or where to find a calligraphy set.

In regards to my last post...

Sometimes second chances aren't so bad after all :)

Delusional Atonement

Do you know what my problem is? I give way to many second chances. I give them away before they're even asked for. I have a self destructive belief in the thought that "people can change." Which, more often that not is a load of bologna. But I hold out for the times when it's not.

"Oh if we hang out one more time he'll totally see how great I am."
"Well, I'm sure something happened and that's why he didn't call like he said he would... again. I'll just wait to see what he says."

I've read "He Just Not that Into You" and I know the signs. He only wants to hang out when he's drunk, he doesn't call like he says he will and that vibe that you wish so much was there, just isn't.

And yet, I hold out for that next text message, the beautiful ray of hope that a phone call brings, and those hopes fall on flat ears when day after day, there is no phone call. And that's when the chick flicks get taken out of their cases and the "veganism" goes out the window because soy ice cream just doesn't do the job like double chocolate caramel delight can.

Despite all the trouble and, dare I say it, dispair, that comes along with a flaky crush, all is forgiven when the phone rings and his voice is on the other line.

This isn't about one person in particular... well ok maybe it is, but really it's everyone I have ever been interested in. I second guess myself at first, convince myself that it's worth being vulnerable for and then get rammed by the rejection truck.

And I'm sitting here, looking at a "no new messages" display on my phone and trying so hard to call it a day and move on to other pursuits. But that damn, ever present, optimist in me says "just give it some time. You never know what might happen." And that's the thing, I think I'm addicted to the unknown, to the mysterious and romantic idea of his atonement and heart felt apology to which I will melt into with week knees and an open heart.

All of this, of course, is sure to never happen and I'll go to bed for the next week, checking my phone in vain and kicking myself for my delusional ideas of love.

Metaphors

Why is it that when someone else is doing all the match making work it's easy to think everything will work out and rejection gets pushed out of mind because "you're in good hands." It's like taking a taxi ride in Paris where the drivers are supremely out of their minds. They weave in and out, cut people off and speed like maniacs. But you push the thoughts of danger and fear out of your mind because this is a paid employee driving you about, a "professional!"But, really, being a taxi driver in no way qualifies someone to drive this way and certainly does not decrease the risks involved with such behavior. The fact of the matter is, you can still easily crash and burn.

Long story short, she looked up from her phone and said, rather gravely, "it's not you, it's him."

Hello heart! Meet Mr Dagger, he's here to impale you and inject you with self-loathing. Enjoy!

When shoved in the ring with rejection I was knocked out in the first round, despite all my best one-legged, karate kid moves.

All this irrationality is a case-in-point. I should not be dating, or even thinking about dating right now.

Redemption

written at 12:30 am January 6th, 2008

I'm not sure why I titled this "redemption." I usually wait until after I'm finished to figure out a title but that word just unveiled its self to me so I guess I shouldn't ignore it.

Redemption

I'm sitting in the dark right now, reminiscing on the past week and all the sunshine and butterflies it held and I"m asking myself why they had the leave in this one fleeting moment of solitude.

I was deliriously, gleefully happy. Seriously! After a rather emotional time in my life where a good majority of my time was either spent being sad or hiding the fact that I was sad, I had a moment of shear collapse where I pulled the covers over my head and silently yelled "I need you, I don't know what to do. Please help me."

Now this is a rather abridged version of my journey into and out of despair but, despite my inexplicable need to pour my heart out to a computer screen and digital world, somethings are best kept between me and... well me.

The following days were spent in as much isolation as I could find (or get away with) and plenty of soul searching. I only revealed myself to one person and her understanding and admissions to her own depression and sadness are what I attribute to the beginnings of my recovery. She was the beginning of my redemption. And I really didn't want to spill my guts to ANYONE, not even someone as close to me as she is (and I haven't dropped her name because there's no sense in dragging her into my addiction to unnecessary internet honesty) but no wall can stay up forever and mine were about to crumble, well at least a portion. (I have yet to have a Good Will Hunting moment where I collapse into someone's arms while they say "it's not your fault, it's not your fault.") But I feel like that moment may be somewhere nearby, lurking in a dark alleyway waiting for some inopportune time to jump out and mug me of all my emotional standoffishness. But talking to this dear friend and being able to relate to her same experiences made me realize I wasn't totally alone and for second, a single fleeting second, I almost saw that glimmer some people call hope.

I stopped taking my medication, decided to leave school, became a vegan, toasted to the new year and was legitimately happy. I shouldn't say "was." I AM happy. Maybe not euphorically so, but I am happy... It's been a busy week.

But now I'm back here again. No I'm not in complete despair but I'm not like I was just 24 hours earlier when I couldn't stop smiling. I twas even different just 5 hours earlier when I was planning road trips and future endeavors, joining a new church and envisioning myself in a new community who want to experience God and life in a real and poetic way.

Maybe I got ahead of myself. Maybe I bit off more than I could chew... too much to fast you know? Am I really this fragile? Do I really have to abstain from weaving too much fabrics into my life because of the risk of an accidental overdose (now that's a dual metaphor for ya). At any rate, anxiety has taken up residence in my chest again and it really feels like he never elft. But htis time I honestly have no idea why he's come back. I mean sure I've gotten involved in some new things but they all legitimately make me happy.

Maybe I'm afraid of all the new people in my life? I seriously think I'm on of those people who can't be overly social without needing a lot of down time in return. Sometimes I foret this and max out socially and then slip into this state that leaves me stunted and unable to leave the comforts of my bedroom.

The anxiety is still here, but at least this time there's the fresh memory of what it's like to be stable and happy and with that fresh memory comes hope. And to keep depression from rearing his ugly head, I have armed myself with the essentials: a journal, good music, pretty candles and good friends in the form of beautiful words (Blue Like Jazz, Eat Pray Love and the Bible)

I think I've come up with another source of this anxiety. For some dumb reason I've got it in my head that i should start dating! I mean, I know I've come into a better place but why on Earth would I think it was a good idea to even attempt to THINK about dating?

You know when you have the flue for a long time and when you finally stop puking your brains out you really want to get out of the house and end up engaging in some activity that's far to involved for your fragile health. You're weak and and shaky and need help just climbing a set of stairs. You wear yourself out and end up feeling miserable just because you got ahead of yourself fin your recovery.

This is how I feel.
And this is my recovery.

I can't jump into too many things at once and I should stay away from activities that will set me back, like dating for instance, I need to be gentle with myself and realize that I AM fragile right now and that's ok. It's ok and quite necessary to say no once in a while. It's ok to plan and scheme but don't get ahead of yourself again. Enjoy each day you're int he midst of. It's ok to be wild and crazy but you need to balance yourself out with plenty of self reflections, prayer and mellow honest conversation.

Speaking of honestly...

That's what we talked about at church tonight. Amazing how God finds ways to speak directly to you and says exactly what you NEED to hear whether you WANT to or not. They encouraged us to have honest relationships with other people which is SUCH a hard thing for me. It's not that I lie, it's just that I keep so many things in. But it's something that I know I desperately need to have, my life depends on it, but that much vulnerability is absolutely terrifying to me. Most people would say it's because they've been completely honest with people and it's come back to them in a painful way. People us this honesty to hurt each other. And I really wish I could say that that is the reason I have so many issues with honesty. I wish I could say I tried to be honest so many times and people just stabbed me in the back with it. But I've never even given them the chance. I know what the human species is capable of. I know that with vulnerability also comes very good chances of betrayal and pain. So I've never given anyone the chance to betray me. But in doing that, I've really betrayed myself. I've kept all this toxic waste inside me and it's caused more damamge than protection. The things I keep inside, the secrets, are like poison and they're eating me up from the inside out.

Goals
*No dating
*More honesty
*No dairy

Validation

I received one of the best compliments anyone can receive last night...
My friend Jordan looked at me and said "you look happy," almost is a slight sense of disbelief.

I am happy.

It's sort of ironic that I have entered a spring of my existence in the dead of winter.