Last night, one of my friends hosted a party to celebrate the premiere of The Hills new season. My affinity for this show is a bit on the ridiculous side. Part of it has to do with the fact that I relate really strongly to Lauren, the shows main character. Not the whole 4500 square foot apartment, Mercedes Benz, fashion line, and VIP access to exclusive clubs part. I more relate to the way she behaves in relationships.
So last night, we settled in with some (ok, more than some) wine and watched our heroine navigate the mean streets of the concrete jungle. MTV had really outdone itself; the network hosted a huge premiere party at some fabulous location and even coerced Mariah Carey into spitting some rhymes at the end of the show. And sadly, I loved every damn second of it. But here is what I'm not understanding:
1. Why did Brody feel it necessary to act like he wanted a relationship with Lauren before she left for Paris? She wasn't putting any pressure on him to commit to her. And why show up with a different 'girlfriend' and hang around Lauren's roommate? Why offer something that wasn't even being asked for, and then stomp all over it for no reason?
2. When will Spencer realize his own douchebaggedness?
3. Why didn't Lauren hook up with the hottie French musician? Short of finding Peter Krause in my shower, there is nothing sexier than a cigarette smoking Frenchie on a Vespa.
4. What were the repercussions of the burnt gown? And how adorable was the replacement gown?
5. How soon do we get to see more of Lo?
I have to preface my next statement by saying that I love Mariah Carey. My formative years were spent singing her songs to myself in the mirror. I wore her albums out on my tape player. That said, who the H does she think she's fooling? That performance was so not live. Ok, maybe it was live because Mariah was actually standing there, breathing and in person. But those vocals have a definite expiration date. And what was that blathering about the trainer that moved into Mariah's house and was boring but effective? What? Bring the old Mariah back. You know, the girl who wore that black cocktail dress to her first five public performances? The one who really had a seven-octave range? The one who couldn't really dance, but shook her booty anyway?
You'd trade your place for a brighter sun to come your way
Walking contradiction now I'm a mess I cannot say
It's ok, it's ok, I hope I will be ok
So come on I'm screaming now how much I need you to stay
And if the night left you alone
And if the days leave you cold
I'll trade a symphony for a song
I'll leave the light on by your home
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
Kiss My Ass Just Sounds Bitter
I thought that this morning I would wake up with some clarity and relief from the uncertainty of the past few weeks. No such luck. I do however, think I'm starting to figure out why I'm feeling out of sorts on such a macro level.
I've really been working to process my feelings as they relate to my recovery from an eating disorder. And lately, I've been feeling really vulnerable. I don't know how long it's been since I've had an episode, but I know it's been awhile. I'm trying not to count the days, because it seems that when I start to do that, it brings the purge option back to the table, and I'm really trying to avoid even the consideration of old habits. That said, the past week or so I've been feeling really sad. Not that scary, depressed kind of sad, but a sad like I lost a friend. I know this may sound completely masochistic, but in a way I'm mourning my eating disorder. I'm starting to realize that even if tomorrow morning I dropped right back into every old habit I had four years ago, it wouldn't do the same thing for me that it did four years ago. It's like returning to your hometown after you've grown up and discovering that although nothing has really changed, everything is completely different from how you remembered it. It's a very raw, nerve exposed feeling. And to be completely honest, I hate feeling this way.
There is a part of my insides screaming for me to cover up, to not leave myself open to heartbreak and loneliness and disappointment. I'm terrified of what might happen if I actually let myself lean into my emotions. I'm afraid that I am not strong enough to cope with those emotions and I'll just turn into this shell of a human being. But then, I feel a tug from some place closer to my heart and I just know that I am strong enough to keep going. And that the closest my self has been to a shell was during the years I was drowning in an eating disorder.
So, as much as I want to just relax and maybe lay in bed for the rest of my life, I know that's not an option right now. And I know that would be the worst disservice to myself. Regardless of how many outside influences make me feel less than worthy, I'm refusing to believe I'm anything besides amazing.
These back steps are steeper to the ground
The brightest stars are falling down
I'm walking the edge, walking the tightest rope
We can be frank, reality rips on through, rolling like a hurricane
I'm over the bridge and under the rain
I've really been working to process my feelings as they relate to my recovery from an eating disorder. And lately, I've been feeling really vulnerable. I don't know how long it's been since I've had an episode, but I know it's been awhile. I'm trying not to count the days, because it seems that when I start to do that, it brings the purge option back to the table, and I'm really trying to avoid even the consideration of old habits. That said, the past week or so I've been feeling really sad. Not that scary, depressed kind of sad, but a sad like I lost a friend. I know this may sound completely masochistic, but in a way I'm mourning my eating disorder. I'm starting to realize that even if tomorrow morning I dropped right back into every old habit I had four years ago, it wouldn't do the same thing for me that it did four years ago. It's like returning to your hometown after you've grown up and discovering that although nothing has really changed, everything is completely different from how you remembered it. It's a very raw, nerve exposed feeling. And to be completely honest, I hate feeling this way.
There is a part of my insides screaming for me to cover up, to not leave myself open to heartbreak and loneliness and disappointment. I'm terrified of what might happen if I actually let myself lean into my emotions. I'm afraid that I am not strong enough to cope with those emotions and I'll just turn into this shell of a human being. But then, I feel a tug from some place closer to my heart and I just know that I am strong enough to keep going. And that the closest my self has been to a shell was during the years I was drowning in an eating disorder.
So, as much as I want to just relax and maybe lay in bed for the rest of my life, I know that's not an option right now. And I know that would be the worst disservice to myself. Regardless of how many outside influences make me feel less than worthy, I'm refusing to believe I'm anything besides amazing.
These back steps are steeper to the ground
The brightest stars are falling down
I'm walking the edge, walking the tightest rope
We can be frank, reality rips on through, rolling like a hurricane
I'm over the bridge and under the rain
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
Maybe Blink 182 Had It All Wrong
I'm starting to worry that I'm too old. Ok, not too old, that's the wrong term. I'm starting to feel ill prepared true adulthood. And by true adulthood, I mean life as a 30-something. Next month, I will celebrate the arrival of my 27th year of life. I'm not angsty about getting older, in fact I'm welcoming my 30s with open arms. Oh, to be done with all of this personal and professional undulation. To be poised, and revered, and socially at ease. Well, maybe being 30 won't mean a change in personality. And given some of the encounters I've had with 30-something women lately, I may just decide to hit pause on 29. I guess I'm just circling back around to the question of 'what next?'.
I'm not one of those girls who has always wanted to get married. I never played 'here comes the bride' or thought about flower schemes and bridesmaid dresses. Even when I was engaged for a brief period of time, I didn't so much as cast a sideways glance at bridal magazines. I have no fucking sense of what it would be like to have a husband, let alone children and family pets. I'm not against marriage; I've seen it do both really wonderful and really terrible things for people. I am moderately terrified of the idea of having someone in my living space for the rest of my life, but I also love the idea of coming home to my best friend every day for the rest of my life. I guess I just feel a little like an alien because marriage isn't something that I've definitely penciled into my five year plan. What if I'm supposed to be all ethereal and romantic and brush up on my ironing and vacuuming skills? What if I'm supposed to want more than just hand holding on the couch during my favorite TV show? What if I'm selling my self short?
But I think it's more than that, and I like that part of myself. I get excited about the fact that I've beaten my last score in Brick Break. I like only having to buy groceries for myself. I like knowing that I can pack up at any given time and leave - whether it be for a day or a year - and not have to get permission from anyone but myself. My discomfort in being older doesn't have to do as much with what I expect of myself, but more of what I think everyone else is expecting of me. There is something so magnetic about having an unknown future. Sure, it's scary. But it also takes the possibility door off its hinges.
I remember reading a short story somewhere that basically said that there is nothing we should be doing. That as long as we treat people kindly and take care of our own well being, we're following the right path. I don't really know if it gets much better than that. So whenever I get nervous that my career isn't advancing as quickly as it should be, or that my boyfriend at the time may not be the person I should be with, I try to remind myself that I am exactly where I should be. And this will be the case whether I'm 26, 36, or 46.
I certainly haven't been shopping for any new shoes, and
I certainly haven't been spreading myself around
I only travel by foot and by foot it's a slow climb
But I'm good at being uncomfortable so
I can't stop changing all the time
If there was a better way to go than it would find me
I can't help it the road just rolled out behind me
Be kind to me, or treat me mean
I'll make the most of it, I'm an extraordinary machine.
I'm not one of those girls who has always wanted to get married. I never played 'here comes the bride' or thought about flower schemes and bridesmaid dresses. Even when I was engaged for a brief period of time, I didn't so much as cast a sideways glance at bridal magazines. I have no fucking sense of what it would be like to have a husband, let alone children and family pets. I'm not against marriage; I've seen it do both really wonderful and really terrible things for people. I am moderately terrified of the idea of having someone in my living space for the rest of my life, but I also love the idea of coming home to my best friend every day for the rest of my life. I guess I just feel a little like an alien because marriage isn't something that I've definitely penciled into my five year plan. What if I'm supposed to be all ethereal and romantic and brush up on my ironing and vacuuming skills? What if I'm supposed to want more than just hand holding on the couch during my favorite TV show? What if I'm selling my self short?
But I think it's more than that, and I like that part of myself. I get excited about the fact that I've beaten my last score in Brick Break. I like only having to buy groceries for myself. I like knowing that I can pack up at any given time and leave - whether it be for a day or a year - and not have to get permission from anyone but myself. My discomfort in being older doesn't have to do as much with what I expect of myself, but more of what I think everyone else is expecting of me. There is something so magnetic about having an unknown future. Sure, it's scary. But it also takes the possibility door off its hinges.
I remember reading a short story somewhere that basically said that there is nothing we should be doing. That as long as we treat people kindly and take care of our own well being, we're following the right path. I don't really know if it gets much better than that. So whenever I get nervous that my career isn't advancing as quickly as it should be, or that my boyfriend at the time may not be the person I should be with, I try to remind myself that I am exactly where I should be. And this will be the case whether I'm 26, 36, or 46.
I certainly haven't been shopping for any new shoes, and
I certainly haven't been spreading myself around
I only travel by foot and by foot it's a slow climb
But I'm good at being uncomfortable so
I can't stop changing all the time
If there was a better way to go than it would find me
I can't help it the road just rolled out behind me
Be kind to me, or treat me mean
I'll make the most of it, I'm an extraordinary machine.
Saturday, March 15, 2008
America's High Five
I love technology and change and living in a world that is full of convenience and efficiency. But sometimes it's remarkably refreshing to know that some things will always be predictable, steady, and stable. For that, I am grateful beyond words.
Thursday, March 13, 2008
Your Two-Ton Death Trap
It’s been a no bueno kind of week, and I am so tired I just want to hibernate for a month.
Monday morning I sat down at my desk and opened my email. I had a message from a former coworker and former friend who left my company last week. Our friendship ended a few months ago, basically because I had a romantic relationship with one of our mutual friends. I hardly expected to receive an email from her, and didn’t bother to make any grand gestures to bid her farewell. Her email started out very kind; she gave me kudos for the work I have done in my current position, and she mentioned how excited she had been to see me grow professionally. Then came the punch to the ovaries. The last part of her email said how sorry she was that we had “lost” our friendship, and that it had never been her intent to lose me as a friend when we had talked about needing our separate identities at work. And she’s right, we did discuss the need to separate ourselves professionally. But that’s not why our friendship ended. It ended because she chose to be petty and immature about a situation that was really none of her business to begin with. When I tried to reconcile things with her a few months ago, she only pretended that everything was ok and spread rumors about me to our coworkers. Her email was just another slap in the face and further dismissal and denial on her part. I thought that I had gotten to a place where her actions could not hurt me any further, and it turns out that I was wrong.
I have been chewing on her words all week, both literally and figuratively. I cannot quite figure out why I am so affected by this behavior. I never imagined that as an adult, I would have to deal with girlfriend drama over a guy. It seems like something that a person should grow out of, like shoes and coats. I’ve been really torn between trying to patch up our friendship or just let things end on kind of a sour note. A friend and I discussed the situation over drinks last night, and he helped me put things into focus. He said that what she had done was wrong and dismissive of my feelings, and that I am under no obligation to try to make things right…again. Hearing this from an unbiased third party made me feel exponentially better. And the end of this paragraph marks me moving on.
I went today for my new, fancy sleep mask fitting, which marked today’s linear plunge into existential angst. I am feeling like the worst form of human being, especially when I saw that my health insurance is paying more than $3000.00 for the entire CPAP machine and mask.
So, I’ve decided that I refuse to stew anymore. And I refuse keep wallowing in the muck of another person’s lame behavior. I have really been toying with the idea of a complete fitness overhaul, but my concern is that I will fall back into the obsessive, panicky behaviors. But I suppose at some point I have to stop running scared and just start making changes. If it’s not perfect, than it’s not perfect. But I have to do it. Starting now.
Have you ever thought about what protects our hearts?
Just a cage of rib bones and other various parts.
So it's fairly simple to cut right through the mess,
And to stop the muscle that makes us confess.
And we are so fragile,
And our cracking bones make noise,
And we are just,
Breakable, breakable, breakable girls and boys.
Monday morning I sat down at my desk and opened my email. I had a message from a former coworker and former friend who left my company last week. Our friendship ended a few months ago, basically because I had a romantic relationship with one of our mutual friends. I hardly expected to receive an email from her, and didn’t bother to make any grand gestures to bid her farewell. Her email started out very kind; she gave me kudos for the work I have done in my current position, and she mentioned how excited she had been to see me grow professionally. Then came the punch to the ovaries. The last part of her email said how sorry she was that we had “lost” our friendship, and that it had never been her intent to lose me as a friend when we had talked about needing our separate identities at work. And she’s right, we did discuss the need to separate ourselves professionally. But that’s not why our friendship ended. It ended because she chose to be petty and immature about a situation that was really none of her business to begin with. When I tried to reconcile things with her a few months ago, she only pretended that everything was ok and spread rumors about me to our coworkers. Her email was just another slap in the face and further dismissal and denial on her part. I thought that I had gotten to a place where her actions could not hurt me any further, and it turns out that I was wrong.
I have been chewing on her words all week, both literally and figuratively. I cannot quite figure out why I am so affected by this behavior. I never imagined that as an adult, I would have to deal with girlfriend drama over a guy. It seems like something that a person should grow out of, like shoes and coats. I’ve been really torn between trying to patch up our friendship or just let things end on kind of a sour note. A friend and I discussed the situation over drinks last night, and he helped me put things into focus. He said that what she had done was wrong and dismissive of my feelings, and that I am under no obligation to try to make things right…again. Hearing this from an unbiased third party made me feel exponentially better. And the end of this paragraph marks me moving on.
I went today for my new, fancy sleep mask fitting, which marked today’s linear plunge into existential angst. I am feeling like the worst form of human being, especially when I saw that my health insurance is paying more than $3000.00 for the entire CPAP machine and mask.
So, I’ve decided that I refuse to stew anymore. And I refuse keep wallowing in the muck of another person’s lame behavior. I have really been toying with the idea of a complete fitness overhaul, but my concern is that I will fall back into the obsessive, panicky behaviors. But I suppose at some point I have to stop running scared and just start making changes. If it’s not perfect, than it’s not perfect. But I have to do it. Starting now.
Have you ever thought about what protects our hearts?
Just a cage of rib bones and other various parts.
So it's fairly simple to cut right through the mess,
And to stop the muscle that makes us confess.
And we are so fragile,
And our cracking bones make noise,
And we are just,
Breakable, breakable, breakable girls and boys.
Friday, March 7, 2008
Disinterested, Party of One
One of the easiest ways to test any relationship is by traveling together. Travel is better than any polygraph the FBI can conjure up. True character is revealed in airports, restaurants, and hotel lobbies.
If the earth were ever to be examined by aliens, I think the best place to start would be the airport. There really is no other public place to see the entire gamut of human emotion on display. There is sadness, happiness, frustration, boredom, excitement, romance, heartbreak, hunger, anger, and ambivalence all under one roof. There are no cookie cutter personalities or appearances; nearly every person is completely different from the next, yet shares the commonality of being at the airport. I love to observe the airport - not just the travelers, but the ticket agents, the husbands picking up wives, the porters carrying bags, the wayward children, and that one guy who is always driving some sort of golf cart vehicle through the most crowded corridor. It's although everyone is exactly where they should be, and completely out of place at the same time. I always try to guess the life stories of the people around me. The bored teenager sitting with her parents. The old couple wearing matching sweatshirts and looking dazed. The suit huddled in the corner with his laptop, cell phone, and venti non-fat latte. The little girl who is awestruck by the planes landing and taking off outside. I wonder where they are going, who they have left behind, and if they are really going to try to get away with that extra carry-on suitcase.
Up until last year, anytime I had flown, I had been by myself. I'm not saying this because I feel bad about it, I'm simply stating the facts. My family lives a few states away, and most of my oldest and dearest friends live at least a Southwest nonstop flight away. And I like to travel, and generally be the boss of myself, which makes exploring new places an adventure for me. However, after traveling with another person, especially one who I would deem a compatible travel buddy, I miss having that other person next to me. There's no one I can share my smirks with when I see something smirk-worthy. There's no one to laugh at me when I stub my toe, trip on the escalator, or bump into some freestanding object (which I will inevitably do). There is something about taking in new places and knowing that without saying a word, you know it's the most peaceful, beautiful, or inspiring place you've been.
Ok, I'm getting schmaltzy, so let's move on.
This morning, two of the coworkers I'm traveling with decided to pick up some donuts for the office on our way into work. We were discussing the difference between donut shops in our city versus donut shops in the Los Angeles area. Now, I know we're just talking donuts here, but it makes me kind of pleased to see that this country isn't as homogenized as it sometimes appears. For me, Ocean Beach bars will always have the best Mojitos. And people outside of Michigan don't even know what a paczki is. The bums in San Francisco are by far the friendliest, and no one can do a speedier oil change than the service stations in Bar Harbor. I like that everything is not exactly the same, everywhere I go, every time I'm there. It makes being nostalgic much more fun.
Have yourself a taste of foreign glamour
Feeding on our way to something new
Missing for a night but gone forever
But they are here to take good care of you
If the earth were ever to be examined by aliens, I think the best place to start would be the airport. There really is no other public place to see the entire gamut of human emotion on display. There is sadness, happiness, frustration, boredom, excitement, romance, heartbreak, hunger, anger, and ambivalence all under one roof. There are no cookie cutter personalities or appearances; nearly every person is completely different from the next, yet shares the commonality of being at the airport. I love to observe the airport - not just the travelers, but the ticket agents, the husbands picking up wives, the porters carrying bags, the wayward children, and that one guy who is always driving some sort of golf cart vehicle through the most crowded corridor. It's although everyone is exactly where they should be, and completely out of place at the same time. I always try to guess the life stories of the people around me. The bored teenager sitting with her parents. The old couple wearing matching sweatshirts and looking dazed. The suit huddled in the corner with his laptop, cell phone, and venti non-fat latte. The little girl who is awestruck by the planes landing and taking off outside. I wonder where they are going, who they have left behind, and if they are really going to try to get away with that extra carry-on suitcase.
Up until last year, anytime I had flown, I had been by myself. I'm not saying this because I feel bad about it, I'm simply stating the facts. My family lives a few states away, and most of my oldest and dearest friends live at least a Southwest nonstop flight away. And I like to travel, and generally be the boss of myself, which makes exploring new places an adventure for me. However, after traveling with another person, especially one who I would deem a compatible travel buddy, I miss having that other person next to me. There's no one I can share my smirks with when I see something smirk-worthy. There's no one to laugh at me when I stub my toe, trip on the escalator, or bump into some freestanding object (which I will inevitably do). There is something about taking in new places and knowing that without saying a word, you know it's the most peaceful, beautiful, or inspiring place you've been.
Ok, I'm getting schmaltzy, so let's move on.
This morning, two of the coworkers I'm traveling with decided to pick up some donuts for the office on our way into work. We were discussing the difference between donut shops in our city versus donut shops in the Los Angeles area. Now, I know we're just talking donuts here, but it makes me kind of pleased to see that this country isn't as homogenized as it sometimes appears. For me, Ocean Beach bars will always have the best Mojitos. And people outside of Michigan don't even know what a paczki is. The bums in San Francisco are by far the friendliest, and no one can do a speedier oil change than the service stations in Bar Harbor. I like that everything is not exactly the same, everywhere I go, every time I'm there. It makes being nostalgic much more fun.
Have yourself a taste of foreign glamour
Feeding on our way to something new
Missing for a night but gone forever
But they are here to take good care of you
Tuesday, March 4, 2008
I know, right?
I am up far too early because my body thinks it's still in Nashville. Subsequently...
| Basics: | |
|---|---|
| Name: | Emily |
| Date of Birth: | 4/18/1981 |
| Birthplace: | Flint, MI |
| Current Location: | SoCal |
| Eye Color: | Brown |
| Hair Color: | Blonde |
| Height: | somewhere between petite and average |
| Heritage: | German, Swiss, English, American Indian, Dutch |
| Piercings: | Ears for right now |
| Tattoos: | nada |
| Favourite: | |
| Band/Singer: | Billy Joel |
| Song: | I'll Be |
| Movie: | Moulin Rouge |
| Disney Movie: | ummm, The Little Mermaid |
| TV show: | right now? Nip/Tuck |
| Color: | Red |
| Food: | anything involving pasta |
| Pizza topping: | sundried tomatoes |
| Ice-Cream Flavor: | strawberry |
| Drink (alcoholic): | vodka tonics |
| Soda: | Squirt |
| Store: | Target |
| Clothing Brand: | dunno |
| Shoe Brand: | whatever is cute and comfy |
| Season: | Fall |
| Month: | October |
| Holiday/Festival: | Christmas |
| Flower: | Tulip or Magnolia |
| Make-Up Item: | mascara |
| Board game: | Trivial Pursuit |
| This or That | |
| Sunny or rainy: | Usually sunny...sometimes I like rain |
| Chocolate or vanilla: | chocolate |
| Fruit or veggie: | both! |
| Night or day: | night |
| Sour or sweet: | ehhh... |
| Love or money: | love |
| Phone or in person: | in person |
| Looks or personality: | little looks, lotsa personality |
| Coffee or tea: | coffee |
| Hot or cold: | cold |
| Your: | |
| Goal for this year: | stick with an exercise regimen |
| Most missed memory: | playing in the snow with my brothers |
| Best physical feature: | lips |
| First thought waking up: | Do I have to? |
| Hypothetical personality disorder: | what? |
| Preferred type of plastic surgery: | breast lift |
| Sesame street alter ego: | Tele |
| Fairytale alter ego: | Glenda the Good Witch |
| Most stupid remark: | I know, right? |
| Worst crime: | hate crimes |
| Greatest ambition: | To be an author with a house on the bay. |
| Greatest fear: | That when I die I will wish I had lived my life differently. |
| Darkest secret: | I see dead people. |
| Favorite subject: | pop culture |
| Strangest received gift: | hmm...one time I got pot holder and some chocolate-covered pretzels from a blind gift exchange |
| Worst habit: | procrastination, negative self-talk |
| Do You: | |
| Smoke: | Sometimes |
| Drink: | Yes |
| Curse: | Absolutely |
| Shower daily: | Uh-huh |
| Like thunderstorms: | If by like, you mean love? Yes. |
| Dance in the rain: | It's been far too long since I've done that! |
| Sing: | I used to. |
| Play an instrument: | just the skin flute. bwahahah |
| Get along with your parents: | Indeed |
| Wish on stars: | I have. |
| Believe in fate: | No |
| Believe in love at first sight: | No |
| Can You: | |
| Drive: | in most countries |
| Sew: | kinda |
| Cook: | yes |
| Speak another language: | Not really |
| Dance: | I'd like to think so. |
| Sing: | Yes |
| Touch your nose with your tongue: | only in my dreams |
| Whistle: | Yep |
| Curl your tongue: | yes |
| Have You Ever: | |
| Been Drunk: | yes |
| Been Stoned/High: | yes |
| Eaten Sushi: | yes |
| Been in Love: | yes |
| Skipped school: | yes |
| Made prank calls: | yes |
| Sent someone a love letter: | no |
| Stolen something: | yes |
| Cried yourself to sleep: | yes |
| Other Questions: | |
| What annoys you most in a person? | deliberate ignorance |
| Are you right or left handed? | right |
| What is your bedtime? | whenever I can manage to fall asleep |
| Name three things you can't live without: | friends, music, kisses |
| What is the color of your room? | black, white, and red |
| Do you have any siblings? | two brosefs |
| Do you have any pets? | sadly, I do not |
| Would you kill someone you hate for a million dollars? | no |
| What is you middle name? | Reba |
| What are you nicknames? | Em, Emmie, Elimy, E-Stein, Stein etc. |
| Are you for or against gay marriage? | Neither |
| What are your thoughts on abortion? | It's a difficult decision to make. |
| Do you have a crush on anyone? | Yes |
| Are you afraid of the dark? | No |
| How do you want to die? | Suddenly, and during a happy moment. |
| What is the largest amount of popsicles that you have eaten on one day? | Probably six |
| Would you take a bullet for the one you love? | yes! |
| What is the last law you’ve broken? | probably speeding |
| In a Member of the Opposite Sex: | |
| Hair color: | I like baldies. |
| Eye color: | blue |
| Height | taller than me |
| Weight | doesn't matter |
| Most important physical feature: | hmmm, lips, shoulders |
| Biggest turn-off | physically? long fingernails |
| Take this survey or other MySpace Surveys at PimpSurveys.com | |
Monday, March 3, 2008
I've Never Met a Toby that I Didn't Like
I'm sitting in lovely Southern California right now, staring out the window at palm trees and sunshine. Whoever said that Seasonal Affective Disorder is a myth, needs to spend some time closer to the equator.
So last night was the first time in a long time that I really had to fight the desire to purge. I had a really exhausting evening that was full of a bunch of minor disappointments. Typically, I can handle minor disappointments, but I was traveling alone and didn't have a lot of wherewithal to process. The hotel's room service menu was singing my name, and I was completely isolated. Ideal conditions for the Perfect Storm. I freaked out a little bit. I cried a little bit. I decided to get over it. I vented my frustrations to a friend, did some mini-exercises, and ordered a chicken salad. And I feel so much better today, so much better than I would have had I given into that pang to make myself feel better using other methods.
So last night was the first time in a long time that I really had to fight the desire to purge. I had a really exhausting evening that was full of a bunch of minor disappointments. Typically, I can handle minor disappointments, but I was traveling alone and didn't have a lot of wherewithal to process. The hotel's room service menu was singing my name, and I was completely isolated. Ideal conditions for the Perfect Storm. I freaked out a little bit. I cried a little bit. I decided to get over it. I vented my frustrations to a friend, did some mini-exercises, and ordered a chicken salad. And I feel so much better today, so much better than I would have had I given into that pang to make myself feel better using other methods.
After listening to the soundtrack from the movie Juno, I have fallen in love with Kimya Dawson. I love music, but I've been feeling a real disconnect for the past few years when it comes to music. I like Kimya because I feel like she's just having a conversation with me when I hear her music. Her sound is simple and straightforward and completely sing-alongable.
I sat in the swamp with a little pink piggy
who loved roller-skating and playing pretend
the boy that she loved was a real snackmaster
the world was a beach ball we were all friends
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