2014

It has been almost a year since I last wrote, which is just too sad for words. Actually, it's just too sad, I'm going to write words about it right now.

Writing actually helped me through things a year ago when I was falling apart. Then things started to get better and I assume I didn't have time or something. Maybe I just was using my energies in a different way, I didn't have much to spare in the way of writing.

Anyway, I stopped, and I've missed it. A lot.

For weeks I've been thinking of what I could possibly write about. Nothing really came to mind, so this is my attempt to just start again. Hence, the rambly thing I have going.

But I've decided, as I did when things were rough, that maybe to get to my next goal in life I need to figure out where I am now, and ultimately where I want to be.

Also, I'm kind of a nerd, not going to lie, and maybe this is a way to release that pent up nerd-ergy instead of just wearing my R2-D2 socks and Star Trek shirt. I'm referring to writing fan fics, but like, I guess this could encompass whatever, too.

Sooooo, goals - life goals
(This is so weird, I feel like those people that plan to have three kids and have their names picked out and exactly what age they want to be when they have each.)

 1. I want to make an honest to God attempt at acting professionally. Not just, "Oh I auditioned for a couple things." But really going to cattle calls and a lot of different auditions no matter where.

2. I want to try my hand at writing more than just a blog, especially one that starts collecting dust after a few months. I want to try writing a script or a pilot, maybe I'll just start by writing some short stories.

3. I want to get free lance eventually making videos and taking photos for organizations. I would appreciate that work being artistic in some way like for a theatre, but if not, that's alright. I just want to start out doing it.

4. I have been so insanely lazy about working out and eating healthy. I need to start doing this again, for real. The goal will be to do a little yoga practice everyday with other work outs combined, while actually paying attention to what I'm putting in my body. Like for real, I really want abs. Even when I played varsity soccer I didn't want abs, but for some reason I do right now so, this is going to take eating perfectly and varying my work outs.

5. I need to find some way to stop thinking about dying all the time. It is a contant worry of mine and contributes to an anxiety I have about things that stresses me out more than anything should. I should either go talk to someone about this, or at least find something that minimizes my worry. We'll see.

I'm sure I'll think of more eventually, but for now that seems sufficiently terrifying.

So about that novel you want to write...

My mother wants me to write a novel. Doesn't everyone kind of want to be able to say that they wrote a book or a novel or a collection of poems or something that was published? I feel like even people that hate writing with a fiery passion still wish they could magically have written a book with their mind. November just ended, but it was National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo.) I bet you didn't know that unless you happened to be in my writing club in high school. Seriously, one of my extracurriculars involved hanging out in a classroom for a few hours after school every couple weeks writing prose or poetry about whatever we decided would be the theme for that meeting. It was awesome.

Anyway, I am someone who does want to be able to say I wrote a novel one day. I keep thinking if I blog long enough and enough people read this I could get a book a la Carrie from Sex and the City without the whole writing a column thing... and with less writing about sex. That is silly, but I don't judge your half-baked ideas. 

But, my mom has this idea that I should write a book about my family, more specifically my aunts and grandma. I think the working title of this nonexistent novel is Mi Tias, or some such thing about aunts. It would seriously be a great story if I could get said aunts to open up about their lives. I'm not optimistic about that part because who really feels comfortable being that candid about their lives? That's like telling the whole world, "Hey there, come look at all the messed up stuff about my family. Look at how dysfunctional we can be." I assume people would find this embarrassing. I happen to say really awkward and embarrassing things on this blog so I wouldn't be nearly as clammy about it. That's clammy in the sense of "clam-like." I should have just used the tight lipped or something that makes sense as opposed to a word that means moist and rubbery. Whoops. 

Also, moist and rubbery are two descriptors that should never be used in the same sentence. I vow to never write those two adjectives in the same sentence on this blog ever again, you're welcome. 

These tangents are why I probably will never succeed in writing a cohesive novel. BUT, if I were to write one about my family members I believe the theme would be men suck, life is hard, people make mistakes and forgiveness is the answer. Let me get one thing straight. I LOVE all of my family and none of them have ever spoken to me about the stories I would possibly be telling, but because we are a large family and I'm an adult now, I know lots of things about all of their stories. None of the stories are that different from other family's. I'm sure. There's some disfunction, cheating, unhappiness, good times, rough times - it was the best of times it was the worst of times - whatever, you get it.

I know there are a lot of reasons why people read: to escape, to learn, etc. But one of the reasons I do it is to learn about other people and to see if I can relate to someone. When we have problems sometimes it feels like we are the only ones that are crazy when, in reality, everyone is crazy. The things we struggle with are things that a lot of people have issues with. Even serial killers can relate to other serial killers. At least that's what I've gathered from watching Dexter.  I freaked you out for a second though, didn't I?

In defense of dragging skeletons out of closets for other people, I think it's necessary in some cases. The names can be changed to protect their identities, we don't have to have pictures, it could be like the print version of putting a source in a dark room with no light and then distorting their voice. This book could  teach other people how to handle situations and that they can move on with their lives and get through bad stuff. It could show them they aren't the only ones with terrible, terrible luck.

I am writing this as a forewarning that I may start writing my family's stories in this blog (with different names.) In case anyone from my family reads this, I wanted to warn them, it's in no way to rib anything anyone has gone through. It's merely telling their story, our story and the stories of many that aren't able to tell their own. Maybe it'll help someone out there.

Then, who knows, a publisher might read it and want to publish my blog posts into a book. That'll never happen but somehow Carly Rae Jepsen is famous so crazier things are possible.

This is Nick from the New Girl explaining his novel idea to Jess's dad. I mean, if Twilight can be a huge hit, it could happen.

The best advice I’ve been given recently

People give advice all the time. In our minds, it’s just us trying to be helpful. We’re making sure that person doesn’t make the same mistake we’ve made. We just don’t want them to get hurt, we’re trying to make them feel better, blah blah blah the list goes on. Either way, we really want to tell people what they should do. 

If you’re like me, you really don’t want to ever make decisions (they could be wrong!) so I am constantly asking people whether I should go to events, what I should order, if I should workout etc. It’s very annoying. I just want people to take the choices away from me. That’s the stupidest thing you’ve ever read, right? That might be the stupidest thing I’ve ever typed, but I didn’t realize how silly wanting to give up my free will was until right this second. 

Still, I am still going to share the best advice I’ve been given recently, because maybe it will benefit you like it did me. Maybe. Maybe not. Whatever, at least I’m putting it out there, just in case. 

An old friend came in town recently to see our mighty alma mater play football in my current home-state (we lost if you were wondering.) We’ve known each other since middle school and somehow managed to go to the same college. We ended up having some of the same circle of friends, and I hadn’t seen him in a a year and a half, I think. He’s one of those people that isn’t afraid to tell me straight up if I’m an idiot and to get my shit together. 

So, after I tell him how I’ve been struggling since moving to Florida, mostly socially, he tells me what I’m about to tell you. 

Don’t let one issue in your life motivate all the rest of your decisions and actions. I was totally focused on one thing that was wrong and everything I did revolved around that. All of my actions were wondering how I could fix my “problem” or what I could do to correct it. I wasn’t even sure if there was a problem. 

See, it’s all very confusing. But the point is, the only thing that should motivate our decisions and actions is to find happiness and to better ourselves. Does that sound selfish? It isn’t, we help others because that brings us happiness and it improves our outlook on life. 

Example:

Once in college I had to be in a couple psych studies (it was for a class, OK?) One of them was one where they make you take this multiple choice test. Then after you’re done this guy comes over to take it from you. My guy knocked over this container of writing utensils when he was giving me my parting instructions, so I helped him pick them up, and he told me when I got back to my room, I was supposed to log onto this website he gave me and there would be more multiple choice questions, and then the study would be over. I walk home, get on the computer, fill out the questions and after I submit them the next page that comes up explains the whole experiment. Apparently, the study was to see the affect of helping others on your mood. The whole clumsiness thing was a ploy so I’d help the guy. In the other test group people were given something, then they were told to fill out the rest of the survey at home. The people that helped others were more upbeat than the ones that were given something for no reason. 

That was a really long explanation of why helping others makes you feel better, but at least it was a scientific explanation...kind of. What I’m saying is, what makes you happy is often what makes others happy, so it’s kind of a win-win for everyone. 

End of advice. 

PS. I try not to give advice because I had this dream once that my friend shot me because I gave him bad advice. So when I do give advice, I usually REALLY believe in it. 

To my Word doc, because I've exhausted my friends

Dear… Doc, 

Let’s put it this way, I think I have thoroughly exhausted most of my friends. I’m sure listening to my hemorrhaging self-esteem is enough to merit a little vacation from me. I need to give them a break before they snap and run for the highest, nearest tall thing you can climb – you know, bridge, water tower, parking structure – you get it. Unfortunately, I haven’t figured out how to stop picking at my scabs and pulling out my stitches. So, I’m in constant need of a friend to staunch my ever-depleting sense of worth. Ay, there’s the rub. 

I assume someday there will be robot therapists or some other form of technology that would be able to take in the worries and cares of a person, spit out a recommendation/prescription and be done with it without getting mired down in the patient’s feelings. Then again, they could learn human emotions this way and take over the world, so maybe we should steer clear of that. 

Typing this letter is going to be my surrogate bandage, or maybe more like my own cone that goes over dog’s heads so they can’t lick their wounds. It’s my stand-in for the friends I’ve already alienated because my life has been one endless parade of mistakes I’ve made and then proceeded to dwell on. No one wants to be around the anxious girl that can’t get her shit together. But this Word doc can’t get away from me, so these words are going to spill from me whether Microsoft likes it or not and hopefully they take some of my negativity with them.

Here it is, plain and simple: I want to be happy. 

I want it so much that every time something less-than-stellar happens I fall apart. 

I completely crumble. 

I got a speeding ticket this morning and had a mini-mental breakdown in my car because of it. In my defense, it was my first speeding ticket ever, but people get them all the time, I just have to pay it, I didn’t get in an accident and the cop (although he was not persuaded by the fact that I was shaking like an addict) reduced my speed. That was actually really nice of him. Of course as soon as he leaves I start bawling like a little child and it takes me so long to try to get back into traffic a second cop pulls up beside me asking me what I’m doing. I’m still crying and shaking and I say I just got a ticket and I’m trying to get back into traffic. That was it; I somehow managed to drive to work looking through foggy, smeared glasses. And you know the people in the trucks and cars around me could see me losing it while attempting to drive. So, that’s cool I guess, I hope they appreciate the fact that I stayed in my lane. 

I’m not sure this is a typical response to a normal snag. I was pretty happy on my way to work today, I slept pretty well, didn’t have any outrageous dreams that have been plaguing me recently, but I disintegrated as soon as I made a mistake. 

So, Doc (that’s what I’m going to call my Word docs from now on when I need a friend to dump my emotions on, it reminds me of Doc Holliday and I guess a therapist. Now, I have a vision of talking to a robot therapist dressed like a Western gunslinger – which is pretty awesome) I’m going to say what I always say to my friends when I get trapped inside my own head, which is frequently. 

I’m going to get better. 

I said this to my ex-boyfriend so many times, I’ve said it to my friends that I think are going to give up on me and now I’m saying it to you. 

I’ve tried running myself better, painting myself better, sleeping myself better, drinking myself better, baking/cooking myself better, blogging myself better and talking myself better. But I want it so much it hurts. I’m not going to stop trying until it finally happens. 

Maybe I’ll try heat yoga… as soon as I pay off this speeding ticket.