Don't talk to strangers and if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all

I am kind of aggressive sometimes. For all of my talk about love and compassion, I can sometimes be very rude to strangers. I imagine that I have been provoked; it usually occurs when I feel like they haven't learned how to be decent on their own and should have me point their lack of manners or thoughtfulness out to them. This bad habit of mine may be a result of having had to bite my tongue for years working customer service jobs.

I was just reading at the coffee shop when I overheard a fussy, shrill sounding middle aged woman complaining to a man and a woman playing chess that they had stolen her table. "That's why I put the newspaper down," she explained, sounding supremely annoyed and put out. The people apologized, but (I'm guessing due to the woman's overly suffering and not polite attitude) didn't move immediately, offering the woman a chair as they continued their game. The woman hovered for a moment, glaring at everyone, and then came over to my table, asking if it was okay if she sat down. "Sure," I replied, my lovely quiet moment destroyed by her stress and impatience that had nothing to do with me. "That is just so rude." she muttered. Clearly, this woman was going to continue to be an unpleasant visitor at my table, so I said, "you know what, I'm going to go. You can have my table." Then, as I was making a move to leave, I noticed that there was an empty table across the patio. I pointed it out to her. "Well, if you're going to leave..." she said messing with settling her things, not even looking at me, concerned with securing her table, the table that she was entitled to, no matter if she made other people uncomfortable in their own private moments in the process. And I'm sorry, she put a newspaper down? It's a totally understandable mistake those people made. People discard newspapers at coffee shops all the time. Buck up and get over it lady. "Actually," I said, "I don't want to move." "What?" she said, "I thought you just said you were going to leave." "I just didn't want to sit next to you. You don't seem like a very nice person." She was, understandably, taken aback. "What?" "I don't want to talk to you," I replied. "You're strange," she said. And that was pretty nice of her, because she could have said a lot worse.

Then after trying to read for a few minutes, I got up and left anyway, because my feathers were ruffled and I was unable to concentrate. So... I can be a very nice person. And then moments like this happen. I'm probably getting my period.

today is my brother's 29th birthday. happy birthday bro!

My senses were assaulted by two minorly horrifying incidents today. 1.)A lady came into my work wearing what were clearly underpants (not a swimsuit guys. I understand you don't want to seem pervy, but a sports bra and boy short undies with visible lower-butt round is more appropriate for a gym locker room). I relished in giggling at the absurdity of her choices. 2.) after my otherwise sleepy work shift and an attempt at standing awkwardly at a coworker's birthday party-- it's so nice to be invited even if I'm a socially retarded freak (is retarded super offensive in this context? If so, apologies. I have the best of intentions)-- I got on the train, thinking, this ginger sitting in from of me looks like there is something definitely wrong with him. And it vaguely smells like vomit in the vicinity. Sure enough, the lady who came around to punch my ticket sleuthed it out, the man had puked into something and then threw it on the seat behind him. The woman called for back-up and looked disgusted. I didn't move immediately because more than being grossed out by the smell, I kind of wanted to see what would happen next. When it was clear that nothing was going to happen, I moved downstairs. The truth is, as much as those things depressed me and made me want to have someone correct those people for acting so out of the bounds of what I find socially acceptable, I also kind of love moments like those. I feel like they are sort of necessary to life.

I'm not sure if it's hormones, or the chemicals in my brain, or the magic that is sunshine, but things have felt on the upswing lately. As my friend Maddy said, I should just enjoy the ride. I have dealt with depression all of my life-- this is where I should say that I need to maybe rethink being so candid on the internet because it has lead to some awkwardness in my real life, but I probably won't-- but these days, I've been feeling like everything is okay. Even the things that aren't.

I credit this to a few things. I wrote something longer and pretty boring (and oh so inspirational) that I erased, because no one cares. But, if I have to pinpoint the main source of calm in my oft troubled brain, I'd have to say: Love and acceptance. I feel like I find it everywhere.
Should be looking at those people mentioned above with love and acceptance, instead of glorying in a potential train wreck? Probably and yes. I always have to wonder if behavior like that comes from supreme confidence and being comfortable just living your life, or from being a mess and just not knowing what to do about it, and maybe in addition to not caring. And I wonder if that's me too. But this feels different than that, because I've been there. With them. The messy people.

Alls I know is, one of the things I would like most is to see and experience all of the different ways that people are capable of living their lives. That's one of the reasons that travel of any sort sounds so stinkin appealing to me. When I was younger I would try to shape the idea of who I would be in future around my idea of how I would decorate my imagined home. What would be the style of my life? I can't think of how to best explain it right now, except I would imagine that the decor of my future house would match the type of person I would have grown up to be: traditional, contemporary, cottage, country French. Now I live in what is practically a closet, and have a bicycle and nothing else worth any money (and the bike was a generous gift that I promised I would give back if I no longer needed it anyway). So, that's the type evidence I have on person I've grown to be thus far.

My fantastic dream is someday I'll collect all of these experiences and mold some sort of grand life philosophy and somehow regurgitate it into a mess of creative expression. But for now, my life itself is the only creative expression; I hope I don't die before I find the discipline to work at honing some talent. But, if I do, that's what happens. I am, however, becoming more disciplined all the time. Right now it's regarding my health. Maybe once I master that I can move onto acquiring some skills and achievements. That's my hope anyhow. Maybe that's also a part of why I've been feeling so good. Good night friends!

I had a pretty good day today. I rode my bike about 30 miles. Went to yoga. Hung out with some of my homies... Indeed, the love of my good friends was the best thing that I experienced today. I ate some yummy food, I feel pretty good about myself that I've been taking care of myself physically and trying to to be a healthy happy lady... I need mac and cheese before I can finish this. I'm starving. I was over at Steph and Brit's new place (the inspiration for this post) a moment ago and left thinking, pizza? mac'n'cheese? nothing? omygodimfamished. I didn't get that slice of pizza because the idea of going to another location and waiting even for a second to get food seemed unappealing, even as it was just around the corner and much faster than biking home and preparing this unhealthy late night meal.

Mac'n'cheese, mac'n'cheese... I so desire you my delightful mac'n'cheese. There is this delicious looking chard and gouda/emmental recipe for mac'n'cheese that I saw in Saveur that I want to try... is my water boiling yet?

My instant mac'n'cheese is done and I'm not sure that's so great for the purposes of finishing writing this, because I no longer have such a sense of urgency about anything. Mmmmm so tasty.

So, I was at Steph and Brit's new apartment (which is sweet! actually just part of a house that has been subdivided into four sections. it has high ceilings and a great front porch), and I was saying, "did you hear that Kelly just had her baby?" and I had one of those moments where I was like... holy moly. Here I am, in the second half of my twenties, on Britney's 28th birthday, standing in the living room of two ladies that I've known since elementary and middle school. Two women with whom I spent countless hours of my youth, doing those teenage girl best friend rituals that I feel silly mentioning, because I guess as young women we still talk about boys and I really wouldn't mind a good sleepover, but it seems unnecessary since we have no curfews and our own apartments that we pay rent and utilities on.

And we're talking about Kelly having her baby. Kelly, who lived down the street from me since we moved into the neighborhood when I was nine or ten, who married her best friend's older brother, Risa's brother Bryant, children in the family that happened to live next door to us.

And I'm going to my brother's childhood best friend's wedding this summer. And Eli got married last year...

When I went to college I kind of lost contact with my friends that I grew up with. Not totally, but a little. Well, it may have been sooner than that. Maybe when I started having boyfriends I was a little more m.i.a than I should have been. We were just doing different things, or I made myself unavailable, or I'm not sure exactly what was up. I often try to force change because I want life to be exciting and feel in control of my own destiny, blah blah blah... so, I wasn't hanging out. that's all I can say. maybe I was a flake. maybe they didn't notice.

Anyway...I started this blog when my friend Meg was moving to Germany. I have met many amazing people in the past five years and I am always, always whining that people are constantly moving away, that my friends just cycle and change and I'm tired of doing it. And here I am reminded that that may be true, but that's not the end of the story. People leave, but I don't have to stop loving them. AND! some people stay. and even if I don't see them often, I get to hear about the important moments, and sometimes I even get to be there.

And that's so great. Because that's what this life is all about. The end.

p.s. I need to be better at making sure that these people know how much I care about them.

Nauseous Autodidact Seeks Neurotic Cat for Cuddles (optional) and Fancy Free Adventures (also optional)

I have my days off dialed in. Dialed in! What does that mean exactly? Does that mean they're scheduled so that I can count on them? Because that's not what I mean. I mean that I have mastered the art of leisure, of maximizing one's enjoyment of little time and little to do. My plans for today? Well, I started off with a chocolate croissant from a french patisserie-- which to read the reviews on yelp, you would imagine that it would have a little more ambiance, but despite the fantastic tasting pain au chocolat and other such goodies, I would doubt that any of those reviewers have actually been to Paris, nor would they confuse the cold cafeteria style seating with a view of the motley crowd hanging out by the light rail on K Street with a quaint cafe overlooking the Seine. I've been eating quite a few chocolate croissants in the past month (lucky girl), and I have to say that I am comforted by the fact that I believe they bake all of their treats in house, as this croissant is a little more dense than others around town and otherwise I'd worry that they snuck something grosser than the copious amounts of butter and flour that I expected.

So, I've had my treat and my coffee and am looking forward to the three yoga classes I'm planning to attend today. 1.) I'm not in good shape. Yoga and bicycling are the only forms of exercise that don't feel like exercise to me, so of course I love them and try to do those activities as often as possible 2.)a lady (me) cannot enjoy food and be as neurotic and sad about my physical appearance as I am sometimes and not at least try to counterattack my constant indulgence in one of my great loves.

Additionally, I've decided to put myself on independent study. this happens every few months, as my bookshelf mocks my lack of discipline. Actually only recently has my bookshelf had anything to say about the matter, as I've finally, finally unpacked the cardboard boxes of my crap in my room. I was finding pay stubs from 2009, old drawings that one of my college roommates had put up on our refrigerator.. so, I got a bookcase (I really should have gotten two) and all of my books, most from college, are just staring me down, calling me out, what a fakery fake intellectual I am. And then my brain explodes.

We watched The Battle of Algiers last night. It was good. Well, I fell asleep during part of it, but it was a neat movie. The part where the Algerian ladies plant the bombs and kill French civilians was pretty interesting. At the same time that the viewer is feeling pretty sympathetic to the Algerians, to see a bunch of young French people killed while they're dancing is pretty jarring. Then again you did see some guys leaving a dinner party and casually planting a bomb in an Arab neighborhood in a previous scene.

Gah, my stomach! I've been nauseous and getting headaches the past couple of days. Not pregnant. Just sayin. I think I've been getting whatever's nasty that's been going around. Or it's the pot of coffee, expired food, and sugar I consume on an daily basis. example: yesterday in the break room at work (which accounts for the expired food, we get staffed product to snack on that is unsellable), "Agh, I've been so nauseous... should I have another piece of bread?" (slathered with past date cream cheese and eaten with old tomato soup). A coworker is eating a burrito and has a mini-handful of jalapenos that he's removed, as he is not a fan. "You don't like jalapenos? Sure, I'd love them!" and proceed to stuff all of the discarded peppers into my mouth at once. See the disconnect?

I woke up this morning dreaming of Paris, and Munich, and Seattle, and New York, which are my go-to fantasy places when I think about running away from home. In my dreams I'm like Ethelyne Tenenbaum of the Royal Tenenbaums, only rather than being celibate and scheduling my gifted children up for tennis and Italian, I'm the one getting culture in New York in the 1970's, sans babies. So, I' making assignments, I'm going to be disciplined... or I'm going to fart around on the computer for an hour... whatever. the day is young and so am I! (a variation on my favorite, less used expression, "the night is young and so are we!" since I actually like going to bed at a reasonable time and have stopped being a person who enjoys parties or fun:)

Time for toast! I love toast. Have a good day everyone <3

I used to

Gaugain is a lousy bum!

I've noticed (as you may have as well) that some of those celebrated people with creative temperaments are kind of selfish jerks. Yeah, you've gone down in history Gauguin, but what did your kids think of you? I can tell you exactly: they didn't give a hoot about your art. And what was more important? This is why I like movies like Its a Wonderful Life and the hokey ending of Mr. Holland's Opus. And why I appreciate all of the mamas and papas who decide to do the things that aren't always fun, because it stops being all about them (and a reason I'm terrified of having the babies before I'm okay with acting like a responsible adult full-time myself). That's what it takes to age gracefully I suspect, learning how to take care of yourself in all necessary ways without making it all about you. Here's something nice though, from a lady who knows next to nothing about art: Henri Matisse discovered his love for painting while he was convalescing from appendicitis... you know what this means? I'm maybe one terrible head cold away from discovering that I'm a secret genius.

Perhaps biology is working it's voodoo magic more than I realize, as lately I've been thinking way more about kids and families than ever... without planning to have those things soon, or ever if the right circumstances don't present themselves. Maybe it has something to do with my own mom having us when she was around my age, a fact which blows my mind whenever I contemplate my own youth and confusion and how inept I would be if I had three small children in my care-- not only in my care, but completely responsible for their well-being on all fronts. Geez.

Sometimes I feel really trapped by life, but maybe I'm just settling in. There is no secret door that will open to my future. I can leave at any time. However, I do worry that the weeks do turn into months and years and eventually you're here, and you thought you'd be there... but best laid plans go to pot sometimes anyway. You have kids, you buy a house, eventually you get divorced or someone dies. But! There is time between those things, and that's what I need to remember. Not to miss it by waiting for something significant to unfold or some big answer to present itself. Because I doubt that's going to happen. This is it. That's the answer.

People go in for these grand theories and then somehow try to find a way to explain the exceptions. How about this: life is the exceptions. I like romantic movies because they are all about the grand theory of life. One day fate just presents itself to the characters; it had been lurking nearby all along. It's nice. I sometimes feel like I'm waiting for my fate to jump out from behind the refrigerator and scare the crap out of me, before we both start laughing at that expression on my face the moment it happened. But anyway, in the meantime, I think I'm supposed to do something to jump start this destiny of mine. Here I am reminded of the proverb, "trust in God, but tie your camel."

Am I a broken record or what?

Also, the today I saw a magazine advertisement that contrasted a flip-flop and a car with the idea that these two items were "both invented with change in mind". man, were these guys just phoning it in, or what? maybe if I had read further it would have elaborated on how the two items, though different, were similar in their relaxed attitude and non-traditional functionality. Boo. Thumbs down. Uninspired. Okay, I'm done.

Clearing my mind before bed

Tonight is one of those nights where it's hard for me to lull myself to bed, even though I hate staying up so late, knowing that if I stay up until 2 am tonight, I'll be waking up for work in a day at 3 am.

I washed all of the dishes from the dinner that I made for my guests tonight. Most of the dishes I washed by hand; the dishwasher was full, and I think that dishwashers and garbage disposals are a scam anyhow (you have to wash your dishes before packing it, and apparently potato peels will clog the sink anyway) but the amount of dishes were overwhelming, so I did appreciate having a place to tuck them in for the night. I nuzzled my cat and wished for a moment that she was as docile as a teddy bear so I could take her up to bed, appreciating her tiny snores, aware that if I stirred her much more she'd transform into a haughty yet clumsy wannabe-vicious little lion. She'd get annoyed. We live in peace, so I try not to do that. I have hope that when I wake up she'll be napping in my doorway like she was this morning. She gives me clues that she likes having me around: sometimes waiting outside of the bathroom door as I shower, hanging out in the kitchen a while as I cook. She's great. Sometimes reminds me of a teenager, mortified that she has to interact with me, but it makes those sweet moments all the better. Plus if she always wanted to hang out I'd feel like a jerk for being gone so much.

She makes me happy when I'm bummed. Best decision ever bringing her home and one I almost didn't. I was supposed to be shopping with Nick for supplies for the kitten he was getting later that month, and I saw her waiting to be adopted and instantly named her. It was an impulse. I'm a bit of a commitment-phobe, so I probably wouldn't have planned for her otherwise.

Anyway, tonight I went upstairs and (as I often do) sat on the sink and worked my clogged pores, looking for the many imperfections in my skin and trying to temporarily fix problems, poking and squeezing, no doubt worsening the issues for tomorrow.

I thought about finishing the film noir that I started the other day (what is it about watching old movies that makes me feel like I'm up on something? it doesn't take any special skill, but listen to me mention the term "film noir" in casual conversation and feel free to-- mistakenly-- assume I have a deeper knowledge of film and art in general), but I'm too much of a scardey cat to deal with that level of intrigue before bed. Besides, I've been having some unpleasant dreams lately, so I'd better keep a lid on it.I'm not sure if the dreams are mostly unpleasant in retrospect, as I feel that my conscious mind has more opinions and prejudices than my dream-observer mind.

Well, I guess I'm finally tired and ready to go to bed. I wonder if when I'm an old woman if I'll care if anyone finds me pretty. Maybe it'll be really liberating. I hope so, rather than it feeling like a loss. Instead of being depressed about feeling like I'll never be the ideal of womanly physical beautiful (I'm not the most or the least anything, so who knows why not being the most beautiful is something I fixate on), it'll become a non-issue. at least I'm a pretty normal looking lady, so I don't think that aging will be such a terrible blow. I'm not used to getting by on my looks already is what I mean. I look alright. People in general don' find my personality objectionable either. These things are positive.

That's all she wrote: my cat and my vanity. Pretty stoked about hitting the hay. Goodnight.

If the world is an overwhelming place in which I inhabit a little calm boring corner of, I can be grateful of that.

thoughts of the morning:1.) this girl who used to have regular dreams involving apocalypse, rejection, and violence, woke up from a lovely time of visiting with friends and family (my cousin Jenn even asked if anyone wanted to play parcheesi. I thought, "how does one play parcheesi?") 2.)Television dreams my dreams for me and I'm not sure that's a good thing 3.) I went to bed with intention about what I still want to do in life (not what I want out of life, cause that's easy= happiness) and a clear idea of what, if not a concrete plan of how to make those things happen, a clear idea of what I want to avoid doing n order to make those things more likely happen 4.) Change (capital C) is happening in ways we can and cannot control. We need to/should (normative versus positive lecture in college political science class. was positive the other word?) work to change the things that we can. history tells me that scary things happen in times of change 5.) I'm glad that some of the things I like are not prohibited in a jail cell: reading and yoga, although I'd miss sunlight. however, if I ended up in a jail cell I'm not sure that times would be such that that would be enough or that they would allow me to do those things 6.) I am soft. Yesterday I bought yet another jar of $6 hazelnut spread and multiple cups of coffee. My guilt sends me to the $6 jar, but my reason should tell me otherwise 7.) It's all over. It's too late. But I'm still here. My cat is grooming herself in my doorway, I'm lying in bed, coffee will be ready soon. Shoot, I still have to pour the water into the french press. 8.) log out of facebook. pick up that real book. even if you are accomplishing nothing, maybe you will at least stave off alzheimers in your old age. 9.) who was alzheimer? wikipedia is down today 10.) I should call my grandmother. and I should write my congressperson. how is it that I am so ignorant and inarticulate? it's my own fault. If I had a month to shut myself in my room and study... 11.) I want to move 700 miles away, away from all distractions and obligations 12.) still haven't made that coffee yet

That is my proof positive that thinking constantly does not indicate intelligence. The other day at work I realized I thought of the character Miranda from the television show "sex and the city" four separate times. I don't have any affinity towards her or Cynthia Nixon. But she kept popping into my consciousness. What are the things I still want to do in life? Two of the three things I articulated to myself last night I can accomplish right here, even right here in my bed if I had the tools. If I focused those racing thoughts and stopped idly thinking about "sex and the city" so much. I'm banking on the fact that the women in my family typically live long lives and that I'm a late bloomer. However, I have also observed that those same women who are blessed with health have also had their dreams curtailed or shifted by life, so I guess it's especially nice that they were granted the time to wrap their heads around those facts and make peace with them (my nana says, "isn't it a shame we had to be poor, but so good looking").

My family is very interesting to me. It'd make a good story that I will never write. I'm sure most peoples families are interesting. It's the story of people after all. Alls I'm saying is, we got plot. Which is good, because from my perspective as a child, I'm missing some of the dialog. The tip of the iceberg, which author said that? Anyway, i forget most everything that happened, and most of the things I'm told, my brain as most people's just clings onto the sensational bits.

I'm going to make that coffee now. I hope the water's still hot enough.