Friday, May 28, 2010

Your sex is on fire.

The best part about a great novel is the feeling it provokes: pure ecstasy upon sliding under the covers just to spend more time with your main character. As I mentioned in my last post, I am knee-deep, heart-deep, soul-deep in Erica Jong-isms.

That means I'm reading about sex, a little drugs and more sex. More than that though, I'm reading words that describe the inner workings and insecurities of almost every woman that has felt love and lost it, felt broken but found strength to put the pieces back together again.

She's just so damn delicious, this Erica is. Every time I pick up one of her Isadora Wing novels, I'm ridiculously hooked.

I am almost at the finish line. Not in the book, but in completing my first week of work! I must say I'm loving it so far. I feel useful, I feel excited when I wake up, and I feel sort of, dare I say it, happy when I'm there. I am the type who waits for the other shoe to drop, so I am dreading the day where I wake up and wish I was still receiving unemployment checks but hey, here's to hoping I never have to write that post. Perhaps this is just what the doctor ordered.

I'm putting a lot of pressure on myself to really prove myself to the CEO, as his assistant. My ego tells me that at 26, I should not be an assistant anymore but that's simply not the case. I have a feeling in my gut that there's something here, something good. It feels kind of right. He's a cool dude with a great work ethic. And he's kind. Not many high-powered executives are. At least not the ones I've been in contact with. As soon as I iron out the kinks in learning my new responsibilities, I feel like I'll be able to let out a big sigh of relief. I'm still kind of holding my breath.

Dare I say it? This is the most alive I've felt in a couple months. We all want two things in life, at least I think so: To be loved and to be of use.

Sunday, May 23, 2010

What's my muse and no new news and why do I care about you's...among other things.

I like to mix pink lemonade and freezing cold water in a coffee mug and drink it before bed. I've found that I am always particularly parched right before I resign for the night. The sweet and sour tang of the pink lemonade mixed with the refreshing cold temperature of the water always quenches my thirst perfectly.

The words have been bugging me to be released tonight. Apparently much needs to be written yet I've been avoiding looking at the computer because I have no idea where my writing is these days. It pains me to admit that I put pressure on myself to form compelling posts each and every time, which is why I often fall short.

I'm in the middle of another Erica Jong novel, "Parachutes and Kisses." Although I find some of her sentences exhausting and overdone, I am repeatedly blown away by her ability to lay everything out there on the line. She mentions her ex-husband who she's just parted with over and over and over again. After three times I thought, "that's gotta be the last time. We've already gone over how much you love him and I don't need to hear it again." Then she mentions him again in describing her home - the home they built together. I thought, "seriously, stop. Move on to the next topic." That is, until I realized how f'ing real she is. She's repeating the thought of him over and over because that's reality. That's what happens when you go through something heartbreaking - whether it's a relationship, a lost job or the death of a pet. When it means something to you, even if you try to get away from it, it comes back to you - subconsciously, consciously and if you write, it definitely makes appearances in your writing. So I am now able to accept her writing as is because it's real and she makes no apologies for it.

That's what writing usually does for me, yet lately I've been worried that I repeat myself too often and that other readers will not want to hear it. Notice that I said other readers and purposely italicized it. Since when have I cared about what other people thought of my writing? What's happened her? Have I gotten so caught up in the hype of blogging and commenting and feedback and hoping by blog attracts another follower that I've forgotten what writing does for me? What it's always given me?

A sense of relief, of release, or pride in the power of my own words sprung from my own mind. Art is essentially meant for the artist who composes it and no one else. I know this because when I try to write for someone else, after re-reading it, I feel embarrassed by my lies. Just like when I paint flowers just because I want a large canvas on my wall that others will like because floral paintings in family rooms are popular these days. I have yet to complete this imagined canvas because I can't paint when I have already pre-determined what the outcome will be. The outcome is never what I set out for it to be. And that's art. Who cares what other people want or like or comment on or expect? Right?

I told my Dad tonight that even though I'm hoping to finally land some type of "career" upon entering a new job journey on Monday, that in 10 years I'll be sitting pretty no matter what because my novel will have been written by then. Said novel has been talked about since I was a child and has yet to even come close to fruition. Yet I told my parents they would disown me after I wrote my already infamous novel because it's going to be a "no holds barred" type of thing. My mother said, "Go ahead, I'll disown you." My response was, "Don't worry Mom, it won't be a memoir. It's going to be fiction. Fake." She was quiet then. As long as she isn't mentioned, I'm still in the family. What does that tell you about my relationship with her?

It's awful though because sentences, words, phrases, scenarios and fabulous first lines bounce in and out of my mind like kernels of roasting pop corn, yet I only talk about it. I never actually try to make something of it. And the past couple of months have been full of nothing but time. Wasted time. Open time. Free time. And yes, I've blogged and I've done some soul-searching and some relaxing and some freaking out and some nervous breaking down, but I haven't written anything that I'm proud of.

Have I done anything that I'm proud of? That's a question I'm not ready to answer.

I do know that I will have to mention the elephant in the room before I part for the night. I am starting full time work in two days. Those who have asked me what I'm doing at this job have received the response of, "I don't know yet, I'll tell you when I find out."

How does an English major, creative-minded, scatter-brained and insecure 26 year old find herself working in Finance after a 4-month lay off?

By turning on the charm like no other, wearing nice suits, curling her hair, wearing makeup and realizing that if she doesn't land a job soon, she will legitimately be served eviction papers within the week. She put her mind to something and she got what she wanted.

I have no idea what I'm getting myself into but I just realized something: I can do anything I put my mind to. Yes, I really can.

The novel hasn't been written because I don't really want to write it. It's not ready yet. Maybe it never will be.

Yet somehow I'm ready to work full time again, learn yet another new trade and throw all my pre-conceived notions of who and where I thought I would be out the window.

It's time for another chapter - in the book called my life.

Thursday, May 20, 2010

Makes me wanna say Oh. My. God.

Oh yeah, and it's time to start bringing back old school desserts like the Root Beer Float. Remember making those as a child in XL plastic cups that may or may not have been recycled Super Sized soda cups from McDonald's?


Well that's a shame because in my house we did! Mine never looked like the gloriously adorable photo above but they were twice as yummy. I'm sure of it.

Also, if you haven't experienced the magical powers of the Mr. Clean Magic Eraser you better head to your 24 hour CVS right now and grab one. You'll be up for at least another hour challenging it to remove stains you thought were there to stay. And it will! Every time!

Unless of course, you broke a bottle of red nail polish all over your bathroom sink and wall. It was quite heartbreaking to see the little guy fail me but everything good must come to an end!

Lastly, don't ever buy Treatment Foundation from Dermalogica because the woman at Beans told you it was just like tinted moisturizer (which is what you usually use). It's not. And I've been battling adult acne ever since.

Wednesday, May 19, 2010

But something told me to run.

I completely relate to this tune by David Grey. In life, we welcome new faces and we say goodbye to old ones. Sometimes we welcome the idea of never having to see a certain face again. I sometimes think of those I've lost touch with, lost love with, lost trust with. Sometimes it was my fault, sometimes theirs. Sometimes it's no one's fault. It just happens.

Time changes people. Sometimes those you were once obsessed with knowing become those you easily forget. Other times there's these people that make clever cameos in your dreams, that you're reminded of when you watch the episode of Sex and the City that you saw for the first time with them, or their exact smile in the guy who makes your morning espresso. It's funny how the mind remembers those you thought you forgot.

I think it's finally time that I allow the one I've unfairly held tight to, slowly dissolve. Excruciating.

Thank God I'm starting my new job next Monday! Exciting. Exhilerating. Frightening. Awesome.

Tuesday, May 11, 2010

I hate the residual break up bullshit.

My ex-boyfriend has been waiting for me to get back together with him for almost exactly a year.

It hasn't happened and I can't see it happening. Because I feel as though we've passed the point of no return. It's almost like he bothers me so much just because I can't understand why anyone would wait this long for someone to come around and get back together with them unless they literally were insane. Or really in love. But, honestly, even being "in love" wears off when it's unrequited for almost 365 days straight.

If I'm going to be honest, I suppose I could say I've "led him on" in one way or another. He is constantly available to hang out. Always, actually. Sometimes I miss the natural, comfortable friendship we have and I selfishly ask him to come over or go to the park with my dog and I because I know he will listen to me tell stories that no one else would ever want to listen to. Because most of my stories have no point, I just like to relay them so that they can be released from my overly crowded mind. And he listens.

If you're reading this, you may be thinking, "hmm he sounds like he's kind of awesome and you're an idiot for not taking the plunge and trying again." Sometimes I allow myself to think the same thing, usually when one of my best friends reminds me that she's engaged and that Zeus (we shall call my ex "Zeus" just to keep my attempt for complete anonymity on my blog going strong) is the best thing that's ever happened to me. Because apparently I am a tough cookie and no one in their right minds would want to really love me. But he does, so I should bend over backwards and let him do me in the...Just kidding. Apparently I should throw aside the fact that for some reason, I have lost all physical desire for him, and just give in because he is more devoted to me than anyone I'll ever meet in my life.

Okay, now, here's the point of my writing tonight. He is NOT a perfect creature and he is NOT innocent by any means. In fact, he talks and talks so much about his undying love for me yet he always seems to have a little chicky on the side waiting for him. And that's fine, I don't blame any girl for wanting him. He's a good on paper guy. Successful. Smart. Attractive. Strong/Silent type. I mean, he could be a little taller, but some girls don't care about that.

The problem is, the girl is my property manager in the apartment that I rent. This chick knows every financial issue I've had since I've been laid off and she's the one I have to call and ask, "Is it okay that I'm going to be late again...about 15 days late on rent?" And she answers in her horribly upbeat and high-pitched voice, "Yes, Adia. We will figure it out hunnie, okay?" And she does. She helps me figure it out. She has even tried to get me a job. I was offered a job with the property management company that she works for. Again, my landlord. I declined it.

All the while, she's texting Zeus sweet nothings about how much she misses hanging out with him. And he's telling me to make me jealous. And I'm not jealous. Until I realize, "hey, I thought you told me you two hung out twice?" Who misses hanging out with someone they hung out with twice? No one. So he lied.

No biggie, right? He lied. He doesn't want me to know he's been keeping her nice and warm on that back burner. He is human after all. And he's actually quite afraid of being alone. So am I. Sometimes. Other times I love it. But, he can't stand the fact that he may be completely SINGLE once I stop asking him to go to the park with Maddie and I and once I finally get my ducks in a line and move out of the apartment that is managed by the girl that tries to get me a job and tries not to evict me from my apartment while trying to jump on his...

But I'm pissed. Because he has a history with me that kind of includes a bunch of weird lying. And I can't help but never forget it.

All in all, I shouldn't. Because I have lied too. I have hid things from him, to be exact. Although I don't even think he cares what I do these days, as long as he can still text me and show up at my apartment to see if I'm alone.

This back and forth is stupid. One of us has to say, "LET'S JUST CALL A SPADE A SPADE." You don't really want to be with someone that has refused to be with you for over a year huh? And I don't want to continue living this way. Keeping someone around just for those times that I'm lonely or missing someone who knows the real me.

Everybody breaks up. Everybody moves on.

Everybody has someone on the back burner, slowly heating up until the time is right?

None of this makes sense and there's absolutely no way I can slap a cute conclusion on this to wrap it up. It just is what it is. And I don't know what it is. So someone read this between the lines for me and give me a brief synopsis.

Wednesday, May 5, 2010

five five oh seven.

May 5, 2007 was the beginning of a brand new life for me. It was three years ago today. I cannot say the new life has been easy. It hasn't been a breeze. Mostly because I am completely present for life which means I have to deal with whatever comes my way and look it square in the eye with an honest heart. Sometimes I hate doing that.

I will say it's been real as hell though. I have experienced feelings and emotions that I never knew existed inside of me. I have reconnected with a family that I allowed myself to harbor terrible feelings towards for years. I have worked on myself a lot - my laziness, my selfishness, my stubborn as shit nature.

I am a work in progress. Being naturally hard on myself, when I woke up this morning, I thought, "how anti-climatic, you're still a whack-job of a human being." And I am. But I respect myself. I love me more than I ever have. And I truly love others. Not all of them, but some. I have found that my heart, which once felt like it was as cold as ice, has begun to melt. I can cry tears of joy. I had never done that before I began this cute little journey.

Last but not least, I believe there are no coincidences in life for sure. Because I was offered a job today. The official paper-signing begins tomorrow but I was given the handshake of approval from the CEO, who said he wants me to have this job. I hate to say it's in the bag, but I kind of feel like it is. Wow.

I went into the interview today nervous as hell. I imagined myself completely blowing it and saying tons of things that didn't make sense. My imagination sucks. Because none of that happened. The interview was as smooth as a sailboat on the Chesapeake. And I know what that's like because I just experienced it.

"Established on such a footing we became less and less interested in ourselves, our little plans and designs. More and more we became interested in seeing what we could contribute to life. As we felt new power flow in, as we enjoyed peace of mind, as we discovered we could face life successfully, we began to lose our fear of today, tomorrow or the hereafter."

And if ya' don't know, now ya' know.

Monday, May 3, 2010

Dude, I seriously need an i-Phone.

{Moi taking it all in}

{Picture perfect, isn't it?}

{So we're livin' life like a video}

{Toesies skim the water}

{Our gorgeous sail}

I spent the weekend on a sailboat with some of my favorite people. It was an interesting weekend, I must say. It's been a while since I've spent quality time with these three beauties and it's the first time we've been "away" together since I quit boozing. I found myself feeling uncomfortable for some of the time because the little kid in me occasionally screamed out from inside, "I want to be like you!" to the rest of the group. But my inner child was silenced when it was followed up by the grown-up me that said, "You are who you have always wanted to be, don't ever forget it."

All in all, it was fantastic. My friend's father owns a sailboat and sailed us around the Chesapeake for hours at a time. I seemed to have forgotten about my ghostly pale skin so I came home with a mean sunburn on my leggies but it was worth it. Being on the water with a light breeze, sun streaming on my face and breath-taking views surrounding me was the definition of serene.

The weekend was filled with great conversation, lots of laughs and most of all, tons of inside jokes. The four of us remind me of the Sex & the City crew in the way that we love to create plays on words and out-do each other, seeing who can come up with the funniest phrase. I would love to relay the phrases that we created this weekend but you wouldn't find them funny. You weren't there. Sorry!

I have to say that there was one experience that I will never forget. I decided, after a bit of coaxing, to get up in front of a crowd and sing with a band. I am not a singer. I don't have a good voice. But something came over me and told me that I had nothing to lose. I sang my own version of "Blue-Eyed Girl." I have no idea why. All I can say is that it was one of the most liberating experiences of my life because I felt like I totally said, "F you!" to all my fears and just went for it. It's been a while since I just WENT FOR IT in any sense of the word. In my old age, I have slowly let go of my need for attention and have become a bit more reserved. It felt awesome to let loose and do it dead SOBER at that. My friends have video and I can't wait to upload it!

I love knowing that the three chicks I went away with will be part of my life forever. We may have changed, we may continue to change, but I feel as though all of us have a bond and a respect for each other that will continue.

Oh Lord, won't you buy me a big sailboat? And an i-Phone? The above photos were all taken on one. I am fascinated by how great the quality is!