Scary Admission

It's an odd day when I see my high school friends on Facebook and wonder if I am missing out.

I just saw the page of my high school idol (one of the many.) My mom would never let me hang out with her because she was "trouble" but I absolutely adored her. She was wild, romantic, spontaneous, beautiful, skinny, had two sets of parents. She had a beautiful older sister, and could speak in a somewhat educated manner about things like smoking and sex.

I'm not sure what she did those first years outside of high school but now she lives in Folsom, has all the same friends from town, and is part of the 2-3 kids club. Like a lot of the other girls I knew growing up, her pictures and status updates are filled with afternoon naps, swimming, yoga pants, 10am walks, outings with other mommies, trips to Costco, dates with much loved husbands, etc. If photos tell the story, she spends her days in jeans and cute sundresses, her friends are life-long, and she really seems to enjoy family, her mother, and the few drunk party nights she has.

Sometimes I think it would be much simpler to live that way, as opposed to being me. My constant need for newness, complexity, competition, and status make it difficult to be happy with family-land. But it's a rare day that I don't feel restless. She seems so calm and complete. It makes me wonder if there is really something to the whole 'husband and babies' thing.

Of course the flip side is that once you go down that road, there is no going back. And maybe she just looks like she's having a blast because those are the pictures on Facebook. No one ever advertises the boredom, apathy, and stagnancy of it all. I just wish I knew - does she ever look at my profile and wish she could be back on her own?

And That's How You Know You're High

Is it weird to be tripped out about the fact that if I live long enough, I will no longer own my favorite pair of shoes? And not only will I not own them, I will have no recollection of owning them, and won't remember to miss them.

It's as if we live a million life times within our time on earth, and all of them are filled with different friends, different thoughts, different hopes, different goals, different dreams, and different shoes.

Open Letter to an Ex

You’re probably surprised to be getting a letter from me. So, let me start by saying - I feel like there was never be a good time to write/send this, or any logical reason why it would be worth it to do so. However, sending this letter has been on my mind from time to time over the last year or so, and some things have happened in my life recently that made me realize ‘it’s now or never.’ So, here goes.

First of all, I wanted to say that I feel like such a moron every time I picture our last interaction in my mind (what I remember of it anyway.) I don’t want to imagine what sort of impression that left on you, that I had become just another crazy drunk girl. I guess I was for a couple of years, so, there’s that. But, I would hate it if you thought that was the forever me. I think at the time I was just still angry about all the ups and downs and impossibilities of knowing you, and, a daily diet of booze makes anyone a little bit emotional.So, sorry for that. I hope you understand where I was coming from.

I also wanted to say that I think it’s sad that our paths have diverged so completely and possibly irrevocably, but I understand why they did, and to be honest, I don’t think I would change it if I could. But I think it makes everything that transpired weigh a little more tragically in my head. That is one of those problems that has no solution, unfortunately.

Most importantly, I want you to know that when I look back on our whole fiasco/saga, I am painfully aware that it’s both the most impactful experience I’ve had in my life up till now as well as the experience I least understand, had the least amount of control over, and feel the least settled about. Perhaps one is a function of the other, but either way, I don’t like the distantly sad, confused, unsettled feeling I have whenever a song, dream, movie, reference, etc, brings something from that time to the front of my mind. What to do about any of that, I have no idea.

It’s really interesting to me now-a-days to think about how different I am from the days when you knew me. I think I’m a lot better, which I suppose is an unexpected benefit of maturity.

I remember you saying once that you thought I made all my decisions with my heart, and now I don’t think that many of my friends would say that about me. I sort of wish I had had the opportunity for you to know me as an adult because I think I finally started coming out the other end of the most difficult years of my life, and I am embarrassed frankly, that the last impression I made on someone who was so important to me at one time, was such a disaster.

I wonder if we’d even get along, if we’d even have similar world views today, or if all the commonalities are really gone. I think they might be.

I guess I don’t really know what sort of response I want from you. I’m not even necessarily looking for one. I just felt like, if I was going to tell you all of this I better just do it, so I could stop contemplating doing it and get on with my life. I got engaged last week, so I am ready to be done with you forever.

I’m sure you’ve been able to analyze everything in your head and draw some conclusion that brought closure to the whole thing, and I say, that must be nice. I just hope you know that17-23 were the most difficult, crazy years of my life, I’m sorry for most of our interactions during that time, and that, maybe in another life there will be a chance to work all the past shit out. That would be awesome.

Anyway, I hope this doesn’t seem too out of the blue. Hope all is well.

My Dad - The Badass.

The stud on the right is my dad. Circa the late 1970's, he traveled across the United States with his Buddy Pat via motorcycle. This picture is the epitome of freedom, and pretty much sums up everything I want to be.

I'm Baaaaaaack - and More EMO than Ever Before

So – after taking a year off of “blogging” (as if two posts from last year really count as blogging) to find my voice, I am in the same exact place I was when I began – stoned and voiceless. I have too many thoughts rushing through my head to choose a path, and an unparalleled inconsistency in my motivation. I suppose I can say I am much less stoned than I was a year ago, now that I am a contributing member of society. Other than that . . . not much has changed.

A multitude of crappy, boring writers have joined the ranks of bloggers to congest the Internet with their earnest, misspelled ramblings, so I figure I should try my hand again – at least I've got a basic understanding of grammar working in my favor.

2010 is going to be a year of discovery. I am finally 25 – an age that carries weight, respect, gravitas, etc… with absolutely no one – but I feel different than I did before. Maybe this is because my upstairs roommate is 80, but I have recently begun to notice that life is ticking by, and all that waits in the end are your own questionable odors, dead lovers and friends, orthopedic shoes, a constant need to putter aimlessly, saggy boobs, loss of social skills and street smarts – oh – and death.

Seeing the end of the road makes a person feel that they better seize the day while they fucking can.

Whatever the cause, I have recently developed a sense of urgency about figuring out the point of my existence, and I am ready to get down to business. Finding some answers, discovering what life is all about, and all that noise.

This blog is mostly for me (sorry to disappoint) but it’s also for all the people out there who realize that even if there are no answers to the questions we ask, we can’t stop asking them. For all the people who find ambiguity necessary and terrifying. For all the people who are bogged down by their constant need to make connections between the seemingly random events in life. For all the people who subscribe to the theory that if you can just experience enough, the missing puzzle piece will appear and the whole universe will make sense. For people who live for adventure, and who have a craving to know more.

This is what my ramblings are devoted to. So long for now, we’ll see where this goes.

Can I Get to The Point?

I am a big-picture kind of person (so I have been told by multiple personality-quizzes.)

I guess that's cool, but to me, all that really explains is why I say phrases like "At the end of the day" and "In the big scheme of things" when I'm talking about why I don't like chick-flicks or when I'm trying to claim Bloody Mary's are a "health food."

I would think that if I was a true visionary, I would have some idea of what the hell the big picture actually is.

What is the big picture? The big big picture? I have no answers for that.

It can be really hard to motivate myself to do things sometimes because I oftentimes don't really see the point of a particular action in "the big scheme of things." The things that mattered to me at age 10 don't matter to me now, the things I love now I may or may not remember by the time I'm 60 - with the here-and-now having such fleeting significance in a bigger design, what is the point of it? I am usually far too cynical to come up with answers that don't shit all over everything going on in my life -

Why go to college?
- So I can join the ranks of Corporate America, where I will hopefully be accepted into an entry-level position that will suck 40-50 hours out of my week and maybe not even save me from the recessional American economy -

Why get married?
- Because its the only way to legitimize sex and cohabitation, even though over 50% of people who once married are currently divorced -

Why have children?
- To contribute to an already over-populated earth where there won't be enough drinking water world-wide past 2050 and to ensure that I have fulfilled my womanly/familial duties. . .

I know this sounds sickeningly emo but the world I live in seems so stupid sometimes that I've got to believe there is more than that. What's the real point of hitting (or not hitting) societally decided landmarks as I move through life? What's the point of networking, and making friends, and fitting into a community, other than ensuring packed seats at your funeral?

I used to say that heaven was the end-game. But really, if there is an amazingly powerful omnipotent and omnipresent Alpha-and-Omega, wouldn't he/she/it have an end game of his/her/its own? Surely God didn't use all the power and influence in the universe to create what is arguably the largest game of Sims in the universe.

Then again, if everything is so pointless, why am I wasting time writing a blog?

I guess I'm hoping that if I tell enough stories, and spend enough time in this painful state of reflection, I'll finally start to make some connections - maybe I'll finally figure it all out, or come to some sort of peace with my complete lack of figuring it all out. . . or maybe I'll just find more reasons to live life in a semi-altered state while buying hot shoes and drinking a lot of beer.

So for now, here's my big picture -
"I'm just a fucked-up girl who's lookin' for my own peace of mind" (ESOTSM)

Whether this is a good starting point remains to be seen-