Time to Dance by The Shoes

And I thought TLC's "Unpretty" was a scary music video - the implant falling out of that woman's chest? Does anyone remember that? Yeah. #scarred. I think they took that scene out after the music video premiered.

But Jake Gyllenhaal has taken scary to a whole new level. This music video from French electro-pop group The Shoes shows Gyllenhaal going bonkers like Christian Bale circa American Psycho. Not only is it scary but it's lengthy, almost nine minutes long but you can't help but watch Jake. Not only is he so dreamy and scruffy and mmm mmm mmm but he's fucking nuts.

If you're a pussy, then click the X at the top right-hand corner of your screen...


Time to Dance - The Shoes

I still love you, Jake especially since you're in Vampire Weekend's "Giving Up the Gun" music video, which #BTW is also my ring tone on my schell phaone. This is the funniest ish ever...


Giving Up the Gun - Vampire Weekend

An Ode to Friends

Today is National Best Friends Day. So I thought I'd take some time out of my "really busy schedule" on this overcast casual Friday to bid some heartfelt gratitude and love to some of my favorite beebles. Yes, beebles. It beats being called a cunt scab let's just say that.

For the record, my friend group consists of both males and females, with the latter being more prominent on my Beeble VIP list. While on the topic of gender, my male companions as I would like to call them (don't worry, strictly platonic), have been there to listen to me bitch about nonsense just like my female bitties do. I like to get a male perspective on life things, love things, and alcohol things. For example, I wouldn't necessarily say I'd share the love of whiskey, or is it Scotch(?), with my friend Andrew but we can still have a lengthy discussion about tobacco commercials and our mutual distaste for a company we both applied to. Same goes for my friend Jordan, who I can have really vulgar conversations with knowing he won't try to stick his finger in my Venus Fly-Trap. Like I said, we can be vulgar and not fear for the worst. He's also a great person to watch Nip/Fuck with (along with KYLE!) and to eat foodz with.

My female titty committee has my back as well. For example, I can rely on Kayla being there to hate people I used to date even after I've said some irrational things to her in a heated text feud, or "bully" her on social media sites. She's like a sister to me so I'd say it's normal to fight for five seconds then bury the hatchet with cheese, wine, chocolate, or vodka. What can I say, she wants the best for me as I do her. Whoa, not like "I do my best friend" but like "I want the best for her as well." I'm gonna stop talking.

<3

My friends are not only shoulders to cry on, emitting at times a tough-love approach, but they are also comic reliefs. Like that one time I was in the Hamptons and dropped my friend (twice) on concrete. I was laughing so hard, I had to pee so I proceeded to pee next to her. She was okay with it. And when Gianna gives me relationship, health, and life advice, we proceed to pee ourselves, choke on our own spit, and ROFL on the dirty kitchen floor at stupid things and people.

DMB/Iona/Pdale biddies :)

I'm also not afraid to laugh at my ridiculous behavior with my friends - like that one time I got my period on the futon junior year sitting next to Frump, and Bubba texted me from across the room saying it's all okay. I actually don't think I admitted that story until right now. Oh well. Now it's funny to laugh at I guess.

My friends laugh at me because well, I make them laugh whether it be from ranting about something that pisses me off (6 times out of 10 I'm pissed off at something or someone), I sing really badly, I randomly get tourrettes and say awkward out-of-nowhere comments ("Nigga made a pizza!" or when I run with a hot sauce pan, "Hot plate! HOT PLATE!"), I trip over myself or bump into a wall, I tell stories about said ridiculous behavior with my well-known sarcastic touch and "Really?Really." face, my impersonations of our former rowing coach, celebrities, and other friends we make fun of, etc. Hey, if you can't make fun of each other and laugh about it afterwards, then go live in a hole with bears and be boring and shit.

UNDA Spring 2010 - Until we meet again <3

I love my friends. I do. They are close to being my everything. If I had to choose between a beautiful bowl of avocados or my friends to save from a burning building, I would choose my friends. Granted, they would be heavy fucks to carry but I'd like to think of myself as rather innovative in times of stress. And being an only child, I rely on them to be personal safety nets and humanly figures to console me when someone hurts my feelings. Like this...

So here's to friends. My friends. I love you all and I have no idea what I'd do if it weren't for any of you there to pick me up when I'm down on my luck or drunk off my feet. For all the times I've cried about being single or dating douchebags and not knowing what to do, and those times you dragged my crabby ass out on the town for laughs, fun, and drinks. For those times where we can be lazy together and do absolutely nothing all day and be okay with it. For those times we say we're going to get healthy and end up drinking bottles of wine and eating homemade pizza. For the times when you hear me say things like, "Ouch, my vagina!" or "I'd fuck to that!" For those times where I can pee with the door open and none of you will think anything weird about it, I thank you. Even if we don't see each other often, I love how we can start right where we left off. I will continue to share the fondest of fondest memories and ridiculous behavior with my friends. Most of it will probably be published here with their permission (maybe). They wouldn't sue. They love me. Right?!

AND FOR THE RECORD: If you are not seen in any of the pictures above, do not get offended or take anything personally. I know some of you will (ehem, Danielle).

Tres palabras

If only I could flat out say it. If I didn't freak myself out before even thinking about saying it.

To me, there's a difference. There's a time and a place that just makes it feel right; makes it feel better. When you say it, you have to mean it. No routine, no doing anyone favors, just mean it. You can't half-ass the words because then it won't make sense, it won't be true. You're better off not saying anything if you don't mean it at all. It hurts when it's not true.

You can say it to some people like good friends and family. When you say it to them, you mean it platonically, honestly but lovingly nonetheless. It comes out without hesitation - you're used to it.

But when you say it to someone you truly care about, someone you can see yourself sharing laughs, kisses, tears, hardships and romance with, it takes time and a little courage to say it.

Sometimes you can't even write it, can't type it, can't rehearse it either. You make short-handed versions of the term as a way of lessening the strike and impact. You certainly don't want to scare away  the pigeons or be too forward.

To some people it's not a big deal but to others it means everything. To the one's it matters to, it's like a revelation of some sort. It can be realized when you wake up in the morning or on your commute to work. It can be realized when you see an advertisement on the subway or if you hear something familiar, see something familiar, smell something familiar.

To the people it matters to, it can't be rushed. We want to hear it but we can't force it either. It may be difficult to talk about; more awkward if anything. You don't really know how to bring it up. You can't smoothly transition to a different topic after the mentioning of it.

You know what I'm talking about...those three words...

 

I shit myself.

Okay, okay, okay. Obviously, I ruined this post. Or did I? I obviously am still trying to find a way of expressing my...emotions. So this is a start, right? I know it but I still can't say it. So I joke about it, "to lessen the strike and impact." Have a lovely weekend, everyone. Happy June 1st :)

<143

Listen to this cover right meow!

I LOVE LOVE LOVE this cover by Scala. They did the creepy cover of Radiohead's Creep with the Kolacny Brothers for The Social Network.

Teenage Dirtbag - Scala

I heard this cover in the beginning of the 2012 documentary Bully, which covered the topic of bullying (surprise!). Despite being disappointed and pretty much saddened by the stories I saw, when this song came on I got goosepimples (or bumps if you wanna be lame and call them goosebumps) the cover was so good!

But yeah, I'm pretty sure some people think I'm a dirtbag. I really couldn't blame them. I told someone that as I've gotten older I've become less and less tolerable of bullshit. I used to do that whole, "Hey you! Yeah, come over here and walk all over me. No really, it's quite alright. Just let me know when you're done, k?!" but then I realized that's not really a kosher way of getting through life. Nor does it mean someone will listen to Iron Maiden with me either. Oh well, I'll take my boobs elsewhere. But here! Listen to this cover!

Sincerely,
Cuz I'm just a teenage dirtbag, (baby)

Brand Loyalty

I imagine that there are people out there that only buy Apple products; a person who strictly owns a Mac book, an iPod, an iPhone, works on one of those huuuuge Mac desktops, and probably owns a Steve Jobs biography. This same concept of brand loyalty can be related to any other brand on the market. It could be because the company makes great products, it could be due to the fact that many friends referred one to use a certain brand, or one may have easily grown up with the brand.

For instance, I always saw my mom using Dove brand bar soap, or as it's known, the Dove Beauty Bar. Dove was always in my house, let alone in my bathroom. And I noticed that even when body washes became popular on the market, my mom still bought Dove beauty bars. It could've been because they were usually on sale at Costco or it could've been because she was always pleased with the 1/4 moisturizer packed into every bar. Maybe I should call her and ask...

*Fifteen minutes later*

She said she bought it because she enjoyed how "creamy" the soap was and she liked the "smell." She told me how it used to be expensive in the Philippines because it was from America. And "usually Filipinos always like da nice tings," she added. Since she was satisfied with the soap, she continued to use it when she moved here in 1985*  
*she was able to answer this question after this exchange - Her: "What? Huh?! Port of Entry? Uhhh San Francisco." Me: "NO, Mom! Whennnn. Like what year! Not where." Her: Oh! uhhh nineteen eighty-pibe...haha.

And I guess that's why I use Dove. It's in my bathroom in my apartment, it's still at my house when I come home for holidays and long weekends. And I'll most likely continue to use it when I have my own family. Don't get me wrong, I do use other soap products but I know I will always buy Dove beauty bars (even now that body washes exist) because not only am I satisfied with it but more importantly, it's a product that is sentimental to me. And also, I don't know many people who still use bar soap so I'd like to be original. I'm weird.

The point of this rant...

The term "brand loyalty" is not solely used for material products. I think of it in terms of relationships as well. One of my best friends and I had a conversation about brand loyalty a few weeks ago. Gianna told me about one her guy friends who said something along the lines of this:
"I could go out and fuck any girl if I could. That's how guys are. We can literally sleep with anyone if we wanted to. But you know what? I love [significant other's name]. And I would rather go home to her instead."

NOW IF EVERYONE COULD THINK LIKE THAT 

Essentially, there are always going to be opportunities put in front of us. New ones, great ones, as well as shitty ones and regretful ones. We can be placed in situations where we'd have to decide between two things; between two people. Shit, if you threw your cat at everyone, you could even decide among fifteen opportunities! But STDs aren't hot in this day and age and no one likes getting sick in the sweet, sweet summahtime.

Let me use my own situation that Gi and I discussed...

I really like Michael. But I also really like Marc. Michael makes great accessories and clothing as does Marc. They are both really amazing designers that Amuurica should be proud to have bred. They also are both very expensive, so splurging on their products makes me cry internally about my credit card debt but life goes on and I continue to be happy with my purchase! (Raise your hand, if you thought I was talking about two boys in real life! Go on...fucking raise it. Hahahah got ya!).

BUUUUUT...

If placed in a situation where I saw a really nice Michael bag, one that would solve all of my personal-item-holding problems, but then I saw a really nice, Marc wallet, which one would I purchase? Probably the Marc wallet. Why? Who fucking knows! It could be a gut instinct type thing. When you know what you want, you don't really have to justify it. You just know you want that one and not the other one. Simple as that. Michael is great and maybe he would've been the better deal between the two. But there's something about Marc that hooks me in. Maybe the style, the aesthetic appeal, whatever it is, going with my gut instinct is essentially what brand loyalty comes down to. To me at least. You just know what choice would make you happier in the long run no matter the cost.

So in terms of relationships, no matter how many other opportunities there are - whether they are convenient, fulfilling, or satiating - they may not add up to the one you really want; the one that might be hard to find or hard to obtain. The things that matter require work. So if you really want that Marc wallet, you're gonna work damn hard to get it and when you eventually do, it'll all be worth it. Keep saving.

How I'm currently feeling in 3 songs or less

I don't know if horoscopes are really true, but I still read them anyways.

Besides that random fact about myself, my current emotional state can be summed up in by three songs by the same band: Animal Collective.

I guess I've been listening to "Tomorrow Never Knows" A LOT ever since I heard it in that Mad Men episode. Actually, that whole album, Revolver, is sick. I had it on repeat a few weeks ago. Almost 8 hours straight of a less-than-45-minute album.

Anywho, yeah...Animal Collective. Thanks to my kind, red-headed friend Emma who introduced me to some of their stuff junior year, I've grown a fondness for all that trippy stuff. If you're all about that psychedelic, weird, hippie shit, then AC will do wonders for your brain and endorphins and make you feel like a magical gopher/sea otter/dolphin baby ready to face paint with little Indians in glittery forests and makes things out of paper mache.

I don't know where that came from.

But yeah, I was listening to them last weekend and I definitely thought these three songs described how I'm currently feeling*
*"Currently" meaning the past week or so.
The music videos are really weird (brace yourself if you're normal) but the songs ARE SO FRICKIN' GOOD!


My Girls
This song - there are no words. I'm in love with this song it kills me. Well, not kill me. But shit, I internally freak out when I listen to this.



Guys Eyes
There's something weirdly sexy about this song. Maybe it's the lyrics. I don't know. But oomf.



Summertime Clothes
And this one, well, just because I'm excited for the sweet, sweet summahtime and I can't wait to wear shorts, dresses, short dresses, close to nothing, that sort of thing :)

And one more thing - Their album cover for Merriweather Post Pavillion (2009) looks like it's MOVING...trippy :)

(Non)sense & Sensibility

If you haven't read the blog Philolzophy, I suggest you read it now. Not only is it funny but the female duo behind the site write for Thought Catalog under the pseudonym Johanna de Silentio. They posted an article entitled, When Nothing Makes Sense on both pages. If you read it, you will see above the article a picture of Salvador Dali's The Persistence of Memory (1931). I remember when I took a Modern Art course in college, we studied Dali. His paintings rarely, if not never, made sense to me. I guess it was just a mix of all his own random thoughts he painted on his canvas and I was one person that never really understood it. But that's how his mind worked and I guess the only person who would make sense of that is Dali himself. I don't think Dali was confused when he painted that piece; I don't think he was confused about any of his paintings. All in all, he could've been comfortable with not making sense of any of them and just painted what came to mind. But who am I to speak for one of the world's most famous artists? I would certainly admire and study his paintings over a piece of string on display at the MoMa (I've seen that before with my own eyes at MoMa. I was like "Really? It's a piece of string on a wall tacked to the floor. The fuck?").

I guess what I took from the article is that life is never going to make sense. And sometimes we can grow comfortable to that. I remember when I'd be dating someone and my friends would ask how it was going, I would just laugh and say, "I really don't know." But that could was because the situation was just messed up. At the same time, with it being messed up, it was just a confusing mess and I didn't really know how to tackle with it let alone deal with it at the time. Maybe we're not supposed to make sense of situations at the present moment and should let them just marinate in this mix of confusion; have situations just kind of sit there (on the counter) and wait until it all makes sense.

Sometimes there's this weird comfortability with the unknown. It doesn't mean I want to live not knowing things for the rest of my life but I guess for the time being, the confusion isn't really killing me. I'm numb to it almost. There are days when I can understand things and the next day, the same thing will seem like a blur to me - as if I don't know what the hell to believe anymore. That puzzle I thought I figured out and knew where the pieces went can become a completely different puzzle overnight; maybe I misplaced the pieces and they're not fitting like I thought they would. And thinking about it, life is one of the toughest puzzles to solve and sometimes it remains unsolved for the longest time.

My work ethic consists of little breaks in between tasks to keep my mind refreshed so I'm not consistently working on the same thing for hours, or days, on end. The mind needs to rest before going back into something. So instead of sitting at my desk confused, or wondering where I stand with someone, I sometimes need to let things marinate for a while before I can come back to the situation and work on it.

I know that I won't be able to figure out all of my life's most confusing situations. I kind of just have to leave them be for a while until miraculously the time comes when I make sense of it all. When I'm able to make that move or know what I have to do next. That miraculous moment could be overnight, in the middle of the day, a month from now, or a year from now. Who really knows.

I do agree with the end of the article, because I guess in due time everything will make sense or the things I was confused about were right all along. At the right time, I'll know when to come back and tackle life's puzzles. And all the puzzle pieces will be placed in the correct spots and come together eventually. Philolzophy was right: "It doesn’t make sense and it might not ever again. But maybe if you try really hard or if you just relax in the recognition that it doesn’t, you can make a little sense of the nonsense."

Sort Of

Sort Of - Ingrid Michaelson

I remember when this song used to make me cry. Legitimately walking on the sidewalk crying before class. On the sidewalk closest to my apartment and away from the main strip where you could easily see familiar faces. "Omg why are you crying?!" they'd probably ask if they knew me. And if they didn't know me, they'd probably say, "Eww, why the fuck is she crying. Fucking weirdo!"

I remember one time I was walking to class and my eyes just started to fill up with tears. Thank God no one saw me. I was listening to the lyrics and relating my life to every last word. When music becomes so significant to how you're feeling at the time, you can't but let it consume you and let yourself go. I had this weird crush on someone I worked with and it just was in no way, shape, or form turning into anything. I had a mere high schoolish crush and those just simply don't do so well in college especially when you're still like a kid and won't tell your crush how you feel. I was gaga over this person and it maybe it simply was because of our similar taste in music and my attraction to freckles. Lots of precious little freckles.

But ever since then this song has still stuck with me and I listen to it, relating it to all of my relationships no matter how meaningless or serious they were. Because I feel that in most relationships or "relationships" I've been involved in, this song has always been significant. The lyrics always made sense. And more times than not, I'd just want to hurl over with such overwhelming sadness and hold my stomach and cry like there's no tomorrow. Like this huge wave of pain I just want to let out when I really look like I'm trying to fart and the gas pains are making me hurl over in pain.

It's all a little ridiculous, I know. But dammit, Ingrid just knows how to say it...

Baby you've got the sort of hands to rip me apart
And baby you've got the sort of face to start this old heart
But your eyes are warning me this early morning
That my love's too big for you my love

Baby you've got the sort of laugh that waters me
And makes me grow tall and strong and proud and flattens me
I find you stunning, but you are running me down
My love's too big for you my love
My love's too big for you my love

And if I was stronger then I would tell you no
And if I was stronger then I will leave this show
And if I was stronger then I would up and go
But here I am and here we go again

Baby you've got the sort of eyes that tell me tales
That your sort of mouth just will not say, the truth impales
That you don't need me, but you won't leave me
My love's too big for you my love
My love's too big for you my love

And if I was stronger then I would tell you no
And if I was stronger then I will leave this show
And if I was stronger then I would up and go
But here I am and here we go again

Tell me what to do to take away the you?

And if I was stronger then I would tell you no.
And if I was stronger then I will leave this show
And if I was stronger then I would up and go
But here I am and here we go again

I GOT 99 PROBLEMS AND THEY ALL BITCHES

Happy Friday, y'all!

Remember Eve? My mom wanted to get those same titty claw tats when I was younger. And Missy Elliott? She's awesome - I want her to come back with some crazy shit with Timbaland. I used to rock a pair of Timberland boots to school dances when I was in grammar school.

Don't hate.

And Kelis? Well, her milkshake did bring the boys to the yard but I think these days she's more concerned about making milkshakes for Nas's babies.

Well, considering it's Friday, I figured I talk about some beef between two cray cray femcees:

Lil Kim' vs. Nicki Minaj  

I didn't even know much about this feud until someone told me about it last night, but I found some info on the beef from XXL Features (holla!). They both came out with albums with the word "Friday" in the title: Nicki's Pink Friday that I'm sure more people are familiar with. But Lil Kim came out with a rebuttal album called Black Friday. Time to take the door knocker earrings out and throw some 'bows, oh snap, crackle, and popppp!!! 

I remember Lil Kim in the 90s. I was all over "The Jumpoff" and I do agree that she puts the "range in the Rova" but at the same time I like Nicki because she's all "rah, rah like a dungeon dragon," and when I work out to "Roman's Revenge" I get goosepimples #runnershigh. But this feud, if anything, is just downright stoopid. Fame makes everyone hungry like a hippo and spaz out here and there and everywhere. Ugh.

I mean they both have pros and cons. If I had to choose between the two, I couldn't really make a decision right now. Maybe in the future if one of them decides to do something heinous. Actually, I don't think that'll really prevent me from still listening to both of them. They both have good jams! Some may argue that Lil Kim spits out some dirty girl lyrics but she's also been doing this for more than two decades so all that experience makes her a legend in the hip-hop community. At the same time, Nicki Minaj along with her three alter-egos are making names for themselves. And she seems to be combining different genres into her songs, collaborating with different artists. Listening to both of the Friday albums, they aren't keen of each other. One day they're both gonna end up in the same nursing home. They should bury the hatchet before they start having wheelchair rap battles during bingo. They're both talented and both albums are pretty good in my book. They both collaborate with great artists too! While these two are feuding, I suggest EVERYONE listen to this diss..."It's a party on your face and I'm about to dance on it"

Beat Down - Steve Aoki & Angger Dimas feat. Iggy Azalea

Now if I were to do a collab, a #SICK off-the-chain collab I would include the following:
Justin Vernon, Ezra Koenig, Nick Littleton, Tim Berg (obviously), Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros, Marcus Mumford, Kimbra, and maybe Da Brat if she's not busy. Oh, and a Tupac hologram.

I leave you with some awesome jams for your Friday, whether it's pink, black, or good. You can reminisce about those days in middle school when you used to rock your Baby Phat purse and Ecko Red jeans. Or maybe I'll just do that. Enjoy!



Music Playlist at MixPod.com

I'll see you soon...

Hey you,

I was supposed to call you back last Sunday. I saw you left me a voice mail and at first I didn't know it'd be from you. But I'm glad it was and I'm glad I got to hear your voice. It's been a while. Well, not that long. I saw you last month and I think I really needed that because I wasn't feeling so great. And I'm glad you came up here to see me and I got to show you around. You have no idea how happy I was to get that text from you on Easter saying you'd be up here to visit! Literally, I wanted to start crying I was so happy.

I remember when you told me where you were and I knew exactly where to find you. I wanted to dodge all the cabs in Union Square just to get across the street and hug ya. It was awkward at first with your friends but when do language barriers make anything easy, right? You lost some weight, actually, a lot. So I didn't mind buying you those little cupcakes from Melissa's. I hope you ate the ones you saved! I mean, they weren't expensive or anything I just hoped you enjoyed them as much as you said you did. I know the city isn't your favorite place and it's A LOT different than home, or haome as we pronounce it. I don't think anyone up here minus my friend Katie will understand the Mid-Atlantic accent. She's from South Jersey so she's my one and only Phillies fan up here who gets the same crap about her accent as I do. And the same crap for being a Phillies fan. To hear your voice made me feel like I wasn't alone as gay as that sounds. So I'm glad I got to hear a familiar accent from...haome.

I talked to your mom. We both really miss you. And I'm sure Pepe and Callie miss you too. The first time I met Callie she walked over to me then immediately laid on her back so I could rub her belly. Sly little bitch hahaha. She was cute though and I'm glad your parents adopted her. And it gives Pepe someone to play with even though Pepe was such a fucking diva. She still is a diva but I love her. I hope your mom isn't feeding her a lot though. She's starting to get a little chubby. Or maybe it could be her hair. Maybe she hadn't been to the groomers last time I saw her.

I was looking through old pictures on Facebook when we were in our school uniforms and I remember our car rides home. Remember that time we went to go get books before senior year and afterwards we were trying to figure out where to go get lunch and you were on the phone with your dad and he recommended Arby's and you made a weird orgasm noise to the suggestion? I still laugh about that. Or the time we went to Brewster's and you got so pissed because you were waiting in "a long ass line with a bunch of fucking idiots"? I would just stand there and laugh to myself because you hated being in crowded places. You would always get like that when we were in line at the movie theater or at Panera. I would be trying to talk to you and there you are looking over your shoulder hoping you wouldn't see anyone you knew. And if you did see someone you knew, you would say something like, "Eww, she's a cunt." And I would just laugh. Panera was always a good choice. Cinnamon Crunch bagels. Every single time. And you never put dressing on your salad. You were weird like that but I still loved you. "Expand your horizons and try something new!" I'd say. And you would just glare at me hahahaha.

I can't wait to go home at some point in the summer time. We'll go get a Cinnamon Crunch bagel and maybe go to the movies. You better not fall asleep this time! Woodside will be open too. We'll wait in line and I can watch you awkwardly order your ice cream in a really low voice because you don't want people eavesdropping around you hahaha. But our car adventures are what make me laugh. Loud music, laughing, swerving, judging other drivers, Wawa pit stops and running into prissy bitches we went to school with. I got along with everyone but you pretty much didn't like anyone I was friends with hahah. Oh well, you didn't judge me! That disgusted look on your face would always make me laugh so I really didn't care who you disliked lol. One day we'll cruise and pretend to be cool again haha.

You don't always make the best decisions but I love you anyways. I remember one time I had to lay it on you and say, "Get your shit together! It's not fucking funny anymore," and I'm surprised you didn't get mad. "I know, I know. I'm gonna," you said. I still believe that. With time. Lots and lots of time. But you just gotta stop getting discouraged, dammit. I know you can do it. Your family knows too. I've always had your back and I still do. So don't lie to me. You know not to lie to me. You know pretty much everything about me so be honest with me. It may not be what I want to hear but I want to be there for you and you know that. Remember that time I told you something and you were like, "Ummm, okayyy...so??" You weren't even surprised and that's what I love about you. You never judged me and always had my back. You still do even if I don't see or hear from you often. I still have your best interests at heart too. And even though I gotta play the middleman sometimes between you and your parents I always still had your back. What I admire is that you have so many goals. I remember when you were at UD and you told me your plan and I was so happy. You were gonna get an internship - you basically were already offered it! You knew what you wanted to be after college because after all the shit you've gone through you wanted to be able to help other people when you were older. And I believe you can still do that. Eventually. You just gotta believe in yourself and not forget your dreams. They're still possible. Anything's possible.

I can't wait to hear from you soon.

The Riot's Gone - Santigold

A Bug's Life

Sometimes when I feel like I'm being put back together after some significant event, I always think about worker ants. I picture myself like a project and the worker ants slowly but surely are putting me back together, carrying each piece to the building site.

I've heard that the heart is the strongest organ in the human body. But I also believe that it takes the longest to heal. Sometimes you feel like you lose yours or it's been damaged too much. Or maybe you simply don't take care of it with the things you pollute your body with. After certain events I feel as if I need to replace mine with a brand new one. As if the one I have has been kicked around too much. As if a crane is lifting in a new chandelier into a dining room. Picture worker ants operating a crane. Even better, picture them wearing hard hats. It's more entertaining that way.

When you attempt to put yourself back together, it's a process no matter what the situation is. You're rebuilding yourself from the ground up and it's not an easy task. You can't use a magic wand to easily place a chandelier in place and have it stay hanging there with ease. What if it falls and shatters everywhere because it wasn't put in place properly? Like worker ants, you need to give yourself a break. Sometimes when I'm driving home to Delaware, I always see vacant construction sites and sometimes it's for months on end. I'll drive past the same construction site over the course of a six-month period and that section of the New Jersey Turnpike will still be worked on. Like a construction site, it can take a very long time to rebuild yourself. And that sole fact isn't always taken lightly. Be calm.

The movie had a happy ending so you might as well think that way.

I leave you with this scene from the movie A Bug's Life. Heimlich - he's just so frickin' precious.

Beautiful Butterfly

A wedding and a funeral

Two weekends ago, my mom and I watched a special on the late Princess Diana. I remember when I was younger, my mom loved watching specials and news stories on her. And I think for some reason she didn't like Prince Charles because he was a cheating douchebag. Basically, my mom had Lady Di's back. And I also think she looked up to her because she was a humanitarian along with being a mother. I guess my mom relates to the whole hard-working mom aspect of distinguished women in the media considering I was quite the handful. I like Lady Di too. I even had that special edition Beanie Baby created just for her. It's still in a plastic cube-like case for protection.

After the special on Lady Di, there was a re-run of the Royal Wedding. I didn't watch the live version of Price William and Kate Middleton's nuptials so I thought we'd watch it. I was in awe by the amount of people crowding London streets to catch a glimpse of the parade of wedding festivities going on. Complete awe. People even flew into London simply to stand on sidewalks to watch this! The wedding was being covered by countless entertainment channels, and there was even a viewing party in the middle of Times Square. Fucking Times Square. Unless I'm invited to a wedding, I won't go but that's just me.

Granted it was lovely to watch, I didn't watch the whole thing.*
*I saw that Taxicab Confessions was on so I opted for trash TV instead :)

Buuut I was fascinated to see how many people, millions actually, were interested in main-stream media of this nature. This wasn't a special on the migration of geese or a news story on the latest hoodlum robbing people of their personal things. It wasn't even a sex scandal/sex tape/OMG-he's-gay-but-married-to-a-woman-with-kids moment. It was a wedding between a popular royal figure and his love interest who came from a humble background. Aww so coot. And I guess the fact that she wasn't royalty herself was a #BIGDEAL.  

So, if people get this excited over wedding nuptials between famous faces, how do funerals of famous dead people add up?

According to Nielsen ratings, an estimated 22.7 million Americans (out of the U.S. population of 310 million) watched the royal wedding on eleven major U.S. television networks. So 7.3% of the American population was interested enough to watch live coverage of the royal wedding despite the five hour time difference.

However, back in September 2007 when Lady Di passed away in a car crash, 33.2 million Americans watched live coverage of her funeral. According to the Population Reference Bureau (PRB), the U.S. population mid-2007 was 302.2 million. Almost 11% of the U.S. population in 2007 was interested enough to watch live coverage of Lady Di's funeral. Was Lady Di's death more interesting than her son's nuptials? Was she more impacting on the population of the time? If she were alive would she still have the same impact on American media?

However, these are only American statistics. Since both events occurred in England, it may be neccessary to include British statistics. But until the Queen herself invites me to one of these shin-digs, shortbread cookies included, I'm highly optimistic that you can find out these statistics for yourself. Obviously this depends on your interest level and I'm sure it's not that high.

On a global scale, an estimated 2.5 billion people worldwide watched Lady Di's funeral versus the estimated 2 billion people around the world who watched the royal wedding in spring 2011.

Are people more influential when they're dead than when they're alive? How many people even listened to the Beastie Boys LONG BEFORE Adam Yaunch's recent death? I know I didn't. And "Intergalactic" does NOT count! I'm getting ahead of myself.

All in all, rest in peace, Adam <3 And Lady Di <3 You both made an important impact on media and society in both of your different yet accomplished fields. You both were and will be truly influential people. As for that royal couple, congrats and Mazeltov. Oh, and Kate's sister's name is #boss. Pippa. Yes.

And for some comic relief here are some statistics on Kim Karcrashian & Kris Humpbackwhalefries's "unforgettable" nuptials...

Viewership: 10.5 million*
*Since the event was covered on two nights, half of these could be repeat viewers. Unique viewers could be an estimated 4.4 million (based on the first night's viewership). I agree with the LA Times article above - how does that equal 10.5?

Network coverage: 1 (E! Entertainment)

Length of courtship: 72 days

Influence on me: -14.75698%

Unfit.

"Friends still sit with us. Children still hug our knees. Songs still speak the words we’re pressed to find. Until we learn to embrace our bare, exposed branches and recognize our worth apart from titles and talents, the buds of spring cannot surface, heralding new life. When we learn to love ourselves, winter never wins."  - Todd Clayton

Initially I thought we would work. "This could work," I said. I thought I was ready and I thought you were too. You seemed to be. You were actually, thinking of it now. I mean, we all have shit but I guess you thought you could bite off more than you could chew. Not necessarily the case. 

It was exciting in the beginning. I met your friends and vice versa. We drank...a lot. And maybe that was a reason for this feeling of being comfortably uncomfortable unless we were drinking together. And when we weren't it was...I don't know. Good but not great? I couldn't really talk to you about my personal life. We couldn't have silly conversations about absolutely nothing without you having to do something more important. Sorry... 

Over the course of a few weeks, not many to begin with, it just was going down hill. I was finally putting my guard down and you were taking advantage of my being nice. I wasn't used to it and I let it happen because I didn't want something to slip through my fingers so quickly. I didn't want to be alone is what it came down to. I didn't sell myself short but I gambled with the idea of doing that.

I rode an emotional roller coaster with you and more times than not you were the one throwing up on me (not literally but you get the point). I put the ball in your court like we were playing four-square and I always let you win. It wasn't until that night in February that I played the game for myself and not you. 

And that's why I'm happy winter never wins. 

I eventually stopped checking my phone and stopped waiting for you anxiously to wake up hung over ready to talk to me. You didn't feel like talking to me. I wasn't expecting you to let me know you were safe because you would become intoxicated to the point where you didn't know how to use a phone. I stopped after that night you got out of control at a concert and said, "You're supposed to take care of me!" when you wanted to get into a fight with strangers for no particular reason and went on a man-hunt for drugs. 

You told me you hated talking on the phone and when we did you would cut me off and say you had to shower or get ready or go walk the dog. You made plans with your friends and I sat and watched. When you needed space you needed to spend it with your friends because doing that made you miss me. You expected me to be sitting there until you came back and sadly I was because I didn't want to be alone. I was a sucker and I let you sucker punch me. But when it was my turn to let go for good, it was "incredibly rude." You said I was "incredibly rude." Sorry...

I'm alone now. But I'm happier without you. But I believe that I'm better. I was dragging a huge weight on my shoulders and bringing it into other aspects of my life where it was uninvited. My close ones didn't want it around. I wasn't allowed to bring it and I'm glad I didn't after a while. I set it down and walked away and I'm all the better for it. If things were getting to be out of hand so early on then I don't know if it was really worth it. But I learned from it. You taught me something; something to avoid. As mean as that sounds. Sorry...

I'm happy winter never wins. 

I love spring. It rains and pours until you're depressed enough to call yourself Kurt Cobain and then before you know it new flowers blossom and new life grows right in front of you. And you don't even know it. But eventually you know it and you embrace it. 

I stopped everything and I'm all the better for it. I don't dance to the beat of your drum. I eventually learned to ignore it. I danced to my own drum and this bothered you. You tried to get me back and I wasn't looking back. Just looking forward like I am now. I'm still dancing. All your chances ran out as if your credit card exceeded its limit and now you don't have enough money to buy that new dress for spring. Someone else has enough credit for that new dress though. And the weather is clearing up now. Besides, I'm sure that dress is going to be the perfect fit for someone else. You're unfit for it; for me. Sorry...I'm not sorry.

Upbeat cheer up jams

Remember how I said music saves me? Well, when I'm feeling down and I really need a pick-me-up, I listen to this stuff...

Create a playlist at MixPod.com
And these ones also! I couldn't find good quality versions of them on mixpod so thanks, Youtube.



Just like they say in Moth's Wings, "the clouds are clearing up, and I've come reveling, burning incandescently like a bastard on a burning sea..."

Happy Friday, errrbody! Hope everyone has a great weekend. Tomorrow is Cinco de Mayo so if you're not Hispanic you should still celebrate as if you were. Guac and margs all around! Whoo!

31-Day Cleanse

I guess you can consider this a "detox" of sorts. I really don't know what else to call it. Not so much of a spiritual "cleanse" but neither a healthy lifestyle change that will remain permanent. Because what twenty-something has the fucking will power to give up all of the awesome sauce life has to offer? Yeah, bahaha. Me neither.

I guess I felt compelled to make a necessary change for the month of May. Just to cleanse myself mentally, emotionally, and physically. I'm okay (I think). But I'm not 100% there in terms of fully taking in what's going on in my life at the moment. I mean, I'm listening to a lot of Washed Out and Memoryhouse ever since I went to that concert by myself.* I guess that's when it all really started - the idea of cleansing my mind and body for 31 days.
*I don't consider it a bad thing listening to that much WO & MH but I guess all the ethereal rhythms are really getting to my emotions. Aw crap.

I guess you can call me a lost sheep if you'd like. I'm not really that lost. I'm out there somewhere in some field eating someone else's grass and I have no idea where my cat damn shepherd is. Whatever happened to sheep left behind?! Especially the sheep that are spacey and phazey and just there. Drater sheep.

I guess the last time I "lost it" was last summer when I felt like my heart was shredded by the Big Bad Wolf. It really wasn't though. I just never experienced those feelings before. The first time something happens, it's always the weirdest/hardest to get used to; it's confusing at times but it always teaches you a lesson whether it's good or bad.

And so...

For the entire month of May I will be changing/adding things to my day-to-day routine and hopefully I'll be at peace (ha!), er, be able to process the things going on in my life at the moment. Although some may sound totally extreme, I believe that these things are not what's best for me, but will hopefully help me better myself in the long run. Again, these aren't permanent life changes and I am human - I'm capable of making mistakes and falling through more cracks then I've fallen through already. And I sure as hell know I'm going to get some criticism from my biggest fans - my loved ones. Friends, family, animals, and the occasional homeless person who will probably think I'm more of a looney tune than they are. But I'm doing this for myself and only me. Shit, I wanna challenge myself!

In no particular order...

1) Vegan diet - no meat, no dairy, no eggs. I've done the no-dairy thing before but now I am completely taking out ALL animals products - fish included. See ya later, sushi wushi.

2) Church on Sunday - I go already but not on a regular basis. Don't hate on me for loving Jesus either. I don't judge you for worshipping the Kardashians and Kris Humpbackwhalefries.

3) Hot yoga - or more yoga in general. I know how expensive yoga can get. But here's a tip! A lot of studios offer new student discounts for 7 consecutive days. I think what I'll attempt to do is take advantage of that discount at a Bikram studio for one week in May. I'll obviously let you know when that happens.

4) Keep my cell phone in my car during working hours - I've done this already and it's annoyed some of my friends. Why I've decided to do it? Because I don't hear from the person I want to text me I feel as if I need to stop constantly checking my phone for notifications. Besides, if someone is in dire need to contact me, they'll find a way (hellooooo...Facebook/Twitter/e-mail/my work extension. C'mon, kids it's not that hard to get ahold of someone these days). Other than that, I'll respond before 9am and after 5pm :)

5) Blog more - we all know I've neglected this for a while.

6) Read more - expanding my mental capacity and vocabulary. Yeah. But sorry, no Hunger Games for this bitch.

7) Embrace the love around me - yeah, lemme just soak up all those lovey-dovey couples making out next to me. NOOOOO that's not what I meant. But I really ought to embrace and enjoy the time I have with those people who are really important to me. I haven't been myself lately and just knowing that I'm loved by my friends and family who don't want to see me upset really means a lot to me. The surprise visits, the hang-in-there texts, the wine nights, city adventures, laughs and hugs. They all mean a lot to me.

I guess there are some other things I want to do but I really can't think of any. I sweepy! But yeah, this is the plan. I have 31 days. Let's do it.

I guess.

Oh, and no porn. Don't act like you haven't looked at any either! Bitch(es) pah-lease!

"Practice."

May Day May Day May Day! Please read this if in need of a good laugh...

I overslept for work. I must've turned my alarm off in my sleep...again. I tend to do that when I don't sleep well. I woke up numerous times in the middle of the night, once thanks to the thunder and downpour and several times due to a nastily sore throat. Ouchies. 

I went to a Minute Clinic after work to get an actual diagnosis of what was wrong with me. There was a possibility that I could have strep. The only way I'd find that out right away was with a rapid-strep test.

This is where it gets funnayyyy...

A rapid-strep test involves a doctor or other medical practitioner taking an extra long q-tip and swabbing the inside of your throat. This swab tends to tickle the inside of your throat, oftentimes causing you to gag. This wasn't my first strep test and a few years back a friend of mine showed me a trick that stops you from gagging if objects were ever to enter your throat. Mind you, it was one of those "Did you know..." conversations that arose in the communal kitchen so we were all like "Wait, lemme see if it works with..." and so forth. It kind of reminded me of that scene in Fast Times at Ridgemont High. 

The practitioner told me about the strep test and I assured her I knew what was going to happen since I've taken them before. I got dis, I thought. She put the long swab in my mouth and I slyly did the anti-gag trick. She was in and out within milliseconds. "Wow, you're really good at that," she said after she was done swabbing the inside of my throat. 

And this is where I look like the BIGGEST slut ever...

"Thanks...practice." 

My eyes widened at my own response as her back was turned to me while she threw something away. WHY THE FUCK DID I SAY THAT?! She probably thinks I'm the biggest post-grad slut in all of Westchester County. Fuck.

Eh, whatevs. Some small talk and a diagnosis later, I was out the door.

The strep test came back negative. Yayyyy! My throat isn't pregnant :)

As for that trick, e-mail me ;)

National Honesty Day

Now I don't know if today is truly National Honesty Day but I saw someone post about it this morning on Facebook. SO TELL ME HOW YOU REALLY FEEL ABOUT ME!! So I guess I'm taking the liberty at being you know, honest. That, plus my life revolves around Thought Catalog and a post about honesty was posted today.

Not that I lie all the time. Shit, if I did that I could probably have sex with my nose like Pinnochio. Okay, now I'm getting ahead of myself and causing everyone who reads this to think I'm a huge Disney Slut.*
*if I did have to pick a princess, it would probably be Pocahontas. Paint with all the colors of the wind, bitches! 

Trust me, there have been times where I've been caught in a lie and I definitely knew I couldn't eat my way through that box of bull shit so I'd admit to lying, look like a fool, but at the same time feel better about myself  in the end because I told the truth. And I guess when it comes down to it, I'd rather look like a fool telling the truth then living with a lie for the rest of my life. I mean, how could anyone possibly live with a lie? Unless your Jack Nicholson's mom on her death bed saying, "Hi! I'm not really your older sister but I'm your mom! Yeah, sorry to tell you now that I'm about to croak buuuut that lady you thought was our mama the whole time? Yah, you should've been calling her Grandma or Mommom, whichever you prefer. Peace, bitch."

Yeah, that would fucking #suck.

I could recall one time I agreed to go on a "blind" date with some guy who lived out in Crown Heights. Yeah, I said it - Crown Heights. Why? Well, I was single and had nothing better to do. And I was alllll about taking opportunities when they came my way. Nowadays, I'm more cautious but it was one of those "We Are Young"-type nights. Or days - it was a day date. Whatever.

It took us quite a while to finally meet up. I remember I used an excuse one weekend saying I had to take my friend to the hospital and that we'd have to reschedule. The day before I was looking forward to seeing him. But the morning of, I went on a run and afterwards I was having second thoughts. I thought, "Shit, do I really wanna do this?" He wasn't physically astounding but at the same time it wasn't always about looks. I wanted to give him a chance but my whole heart wasn't really into it to begin with. So I told him the friend-in-the-hospital lie and we planned to reschedule the following weekend.

After we hung out (which, mind you, was absolutely a waste of my time), I kind of let him off the easy way saying I had a lot on my plate since I was graduating soon. A few weeks passed and I was feeling drunkenly lonely (so lame, I know but who hasn't texted someone out of loneliness?! Yeah, thought so, fuckers) and shot him a text to hang out. Again, I was single and bored and made plans with someone I really didn't wanna see. Again, I went for a run the Saturday morning before we were supposed to hang out. And again, I had used the same lie about a friend being in the hospital, not realizing I already "used that one" on him a month before. He confronted me about it...

Him: You know what I just remembered...last time you broke plans you had to take your friend to the hospital..hmmm
Me: Probably. You know what you're right. And I apologize for that. I think my problem is that I make rash decisions w/o thinking about them first then panic and make excuses. I'm sorry I lied.
Him: I don't have time for games...
Me: I'm not playing any. Merely apologizing for lying. I don't wanna date you. I figured we could catch up but I wasn't thinking. Take my apology or not, Lord knows I could've kept the lie going but I didn't because I know I don't like being lied to so why should I do it to you. I said sorry and that's that. Good luck with everything.

I'm surprised that text was still in my phone. I went to check Facebook to see how he's been since we clearly don't communicate anymore. He deleted me off of Facebook. Fair enough.

I really didn't mean to play games with him. Maybe in his eyes I was doing just that. But I was honest with him, because I know I haaaaaaaaate being lied to. I couldn't put someone through that shit if I didn't like it happening to me. I have a tendency of being cynical and I spent my entire childhood being gullible. Now that I'm attempting to grow up day to day, I try not to let bullshit cloud my judgment. Keyword: try - life is hard, bitches.

It was quite mature of me though - to confess to lying to someone. I was basically using someone for my own emotional relief. And I know I wouldn't wanna be someone's personal baby wipe unless I knew they would appreciate the help and was going to stick around for a good minute. However, I didn't really see anything happening with this guy in the future, so why waste his time along with mine? Lesson learned.

I also was honest with someone I used to date. Things ended months ago and I've completely moved on and wasn't really in the right mindset to even think about a potential friendship blossoming anytime soon. A lot was on my plate, and still is, and it wasn't/isn't necessarily a priority to take care of right away. Not that it was tasking to say the least but sometimes ya just need some space, you know?! Granted, I do sound like a bitch - I did have good intentions...

Her: I hate allll my friends :(
Me: Excuse me?
Her: They all suck. Lol I miss good quality friends.
Me: Are you drunk? I really don't understand what you're getting at.
Her: No. I'm not. I was just saying I miss good friends. You were a good friend.
Me: No, [insert name here]. I was a good date. And unfortunately that's where we differ. See, I have amazing friends. Just not great dating potential.
Her: You were a good date. I just didn't want to be inappropriate by saying that. The timing sucked so bad for us. I regret my bad behavior every day.
Me: Thanks but it's kinda too late for that. Get some rest. Goodnight!
Her: I was apologizing for bad behavior not asking for another chance. I'd just like to be friends. Goodnight.
Me: Regardless, you should've apologized when it happened. Not after the fact when I've moved on.
Her: Agreed. You deserve the best. Sorry for bothering you.
Me: I do. And I believe I will get the best one day. And so will you. Take care.

I was being honest. And as much as I did sound like a cunt scab, I meant what I said. I do believe that we both deserve the best that life can give, it's just not with each other. Accepted and understood.

Sometimes being a little brash is the only way I can get my point across. Again, tolerating bullshit is becoming minimal as I age. IT'S DA TRUF! I honestly can't be bothered by it especially when I've got my own shit to deal with.

In order to be in the empire right state of mind, I need to take care of ME first. So I can't really blame anyone if they don't wanna see me, hang with me, tweet me, text me, kiss me, wink me, poke me, kick me, punch me for the time being. So I guess when I ask for the same, I'd be appreciative.

All in all, how much is it to ask for honesty?! No matter whether you wanna hear it or not, you're better off with the truth. As I've read in a Thought Catalog article by one of my fave bitches, Ryan O'Connell, "you're better off knowing someone's true colors than not. Understand that people can be really crappy will take you far in life." So celebrate National Honesty Day (or what's left of it) with much enthusiasm!!!

Cheers, y'all. I am drinking beer currently. But this does not affect my ability to clear-headedly blog, thank you very much. I'm being honest.

On Crying

Crying. People do it. Animals do it. Clouds do it. Don't argue with me.

I cry for a lot of different reasons - when I'm happy, when I'm sad, when music just hits me, when reality sets in, when I fall (figuratively and literally), when I'm overwhelmed, you know...basically whenever. Not saying that I cry on cue. I'm not an actress. Don't argue with me.

Here are some incidents when I've cried for different reasons (yayyy story timez)...

Happy: when I won my first gold medal in crew freshmen year. We were in an 8 boat and it was the first race of the spring season. We put in the work all winter long, we welcomed new rowers into the boat when others quit, and being in a boat with 8 other girls (coxswain included), we butt heads at times. Although we only were in a race with a boat from Fordham, we were a tad bit worried because in the fall season the same boat beat us with ease. With heads looking forward, we left the start almost immediately as the official yelled, "Attention row!" It seemed like the other boat didn't even try but I remember we all put in 100%. It was our first time racing together in this line-up and it was also our coxswain's (love you, Tor) first time...coxing (sp?). After we crossed the finish line, I sighed this sigh of relief and kind of, to myself, started to whimper for a good minute. A dry cry I guess this was. I don't know, I just remember being overcome with emotion. Everyone in the boat was screaming with excitement whilst huffing and puffing after an 8-minute sprint. Although it was one of only two gold medals in my entire rowing career, it was still amazing to know of what I, and my crew, were capable of doing. Get ittttt.

Sad: Okay, so this isn't the only time I've cried when I was sad. But at one point or another, everyone who lives in New York City, has to have had a New York Street Cry. I've had many a NYSC (I'd say about 3 or 4) and it's usually because I'm...sad. One instance where I had a NYSC was when I was dating someone last winter. I felt like I was being pushed and pulled like a cat damn ragdoll, someone's play thing. I was on the Upper East Side hanging out at a bar that one of my friends worked at. I hung out there and then decided to leave. I didn't get a text back from the person I was seeing so I left and decided to walk thirty blocks back to Grand Central. I needed the walk. And on this walk I cried. At one point I even called two of friends. When I was on the phone I even pulled out my phone charger and found an outlet on a corner and stood there charging my phone and crying. Wahhhhh, why me?! What the fuck! Why are people so mean?!?!?! etc. etc. Yes, people walked by and stared and probably thought, "Jesus Christ this bitch is wastedddd." But I wasn't. I was just sad and having my street cry. Don't judge.

Shocked: The first time I lost someone really close to me was in March 2011 when my Mommom passed away. At first it seemed like a total blur. I knocked on Gi's door and gave her my phone and asked her what it all meant. I was shaking and I started to cry and she held me because she knew what it meant. "Call your mom. And I'll tell MK you're not going to your internship," she told me as I calmed down. It was also my parents' wedding anniversary, which made it seem worse. I called my mom's cell phone and my dad picked up. I could hear his voice shaking - they were on their way down to slower, lower Delaware to the hospital where Mommom was staying. He told me not to drive home until the day after because he was worried I wouldn't be able to drive being in such a state. I remember making an emotional online purchase - Katy Perry black shatter nail polish and three other colors along with it. My friend Tori slept over that night and twin brother* Brizz came over that night and we all hung out. The shock of losing my Mommom didn't sink in for a few months after that.
*brother in a figurative sense. We share the same birthday. I like it. 

Overwhelmed: College senioritis. Need I say more? Hunting for a job, finishing up a 20+ page senior thesis, figuring out my next move, finding a dress for formal, scraping the pennies out of my wallet, running on coffee and adderall, realizing that being an adult will not be as fun as going to class in sweatpants*, and still hunting for a job. (Well not anymore. I mean, I got one the day before I graduated. Talk about being down to the wire).
*I didn't wear them to class ALL the time, but there were definitely comfy on those hung over dayz. 

Funny: This is the best kind of cry. Two weeks ago I came home from work, where I spent the day on this site and this site, and looked at some more GIFs. These things literally make me drool from laughing so hard. Yeah, I drool if something is absolutely, mind-blowingly funny. Don't argue with me. Oh, and I like to watch America's Funniest Home Videos. GAHHHHH I'm alive! I love to fucking laugh-cry!

Indifferent: This one is still fuzzy. But I guess this relates to those times where you just. need. to. cry. You need to let out a few sobs and wet shit come out of your face (snot included) and just go H.A.M. at it. I turned 23 a few weeks ago and when I woke up I felt like it was like any ordinary Wednesday. When I woke up initially I completely forgot that it was my birthday. Then I checked my phone to receive all of those happy birthday texts and voicemails. I smiled but for some reason I felt somber. I didn't know why. I was quiet and calm as I drove to the gym. I ran and did my ordinary routine and then jumped into the shower in the locker room. No one is ever there when I work out in the morning so I had full reign to have a sob fest alone. I was about to put shampoo in my hair and as I was scrub-a-dub-dubbin' I broke down. My fingers tangled in my hair, I just started to bawl. And I don't. know. why. I didn't feel any older. Nothing new was going on in my life (well, I mean, shit I don't know). This went on for about three minutes. By the time I got out of the shower I felt a lot better. I was welcomed to a decorated cubicle compliments of my boss and a Honey Badger t-shirt. Good day.

Music: I can't listen to Jon McLaughlin's "Beautiful Disaster." I just can't.

All in all, people cry. It's normal. It happens for a lot of different reasons, more than the ones I've mentioned above. You do it and it stops. Until it happens again. It's not bad to cry. Don't argue with me.

Real You (Lil B vs Gold Panda)

As some of you already know, music saves me. It literallyyyy saves me. When I feel down, I listen to something to pick me up (or make me feel even worse, depending on my mood). Any emotion one could fathom, there's a song for that. Think of that Apple commerical, "...there's an app for that"; it's the perfect way of describing music (holla at me, iTunes, I'm promoting Apple on my blog!).

I had this song on my iPod for more than a year but I didn't really listen to it until last Monday when I went to the city. I'm not one to jizz over hip-hop and rap a lot but this mash-up was on point. And I think it's because the song, er, rap (?) told a story. A very chilling story. Right when Lil B started "spittin' dem beatz" I was like, "ohhh shit," on the train. For real, you should've seen my face - it was a look of surprise and excitement. I think the conductor looked at me funny. Whatever!

Although I can't relate to the entirety of this song, I absolutely love it.Compliments of The Hood Internet. The lyrics are below...

I know your mom died and I feel your pain
That’s why I’m sitting in the dark sparking up this flame
And you lost your dad, too
And he’s still a soldier
Please don’t let the grind stop
Know that life ain’t over
Seeing you cry some nights
With your head down
Hurt my heart like a stroke
That you go and fed now
Don’t let the pain crush your mind
And yourself, man
I’mma hold you down for real
It just crossed my mind
How the days pass when you’re not looking
But a death in your family got all the pictures crooked
Plus your grandma and your grandpa

Life is too short to be living with your head hung

Keep it up

Keep your head up

Brother didn’t snitch
And he took that bid
He didn’t know what time was
Till he took that bid
Just look him in his eyes
Said two plus ten
I ain’t know what math was
But that’s two plus ten
No one asked why he felt that pain
Why he got so mad
Loaded up and cocked that back
Didn’t ask why he hit those licks
His whole family dying
Plus he scared that the drugs don’t mix
And he mad that the drugs exist
Whole family apart ‘cause the buzz is it
And they rather get high than to hug their kids
Man, I look him in his eyes and he hate that shit
I did this for you, brother
And everything is good
Someone love you
Lady from the hood
Swear she got no answer
Gotta raise three kids
But she got breast cancer
And we know rent due when the bank won’t answer
Wanna move out the hood and defeat that cancer
I ask how she stay on her feet like dancers
How she keep on adding paint to a life-size canvas

She told me every day that you must take chances

If you’re living in the past then there’s no enhancements

She said life’s hard but the dreams do matter

Only way to read books is if you move through chapters

She said spread love off pain and promise
And she died the next day
That’s what made me honest

It’s real life

Take everybody like they’re a million dollars
You never know
Girl Seventeen got to fix her posture
Always getting beat down by her deadbeat father
He’d say nice things
But it’d be so awkward
When he’d drink alcohol
Then he’d slap her mama
Now Girl Seventeen
Call men imposters
What he did to her mind caused way more drama
She walked out the house
Said no more drama
Had to fend for herself
So she stayed with partners
She met a nice dude and his name was Seante
And he ran a little game and proceed to boss her
Because she want a man nothing like her father
She would do anything for a dude that bothered
Seante made her start having sex for dollars
And it really hurt my heart every time I saw her
Deep down inside all she want is a father

So I never judge a book by its cover

Girl Seventeen having sex for hours
Staying up long nights
Even missed a shower
Had to deal with the pain off pills and powder
Taking long drives home on the road for hours
Sex with many men
Even dealt with cowards
Wouldn’t put the condom on
‘Cause he felt the power
Seante got sick, had to call the doctor
Said he didn’t feel well and his head was nauseous
Girl Seventeen, started to get real cautious
‘Cause Seante never said what was in that office
Seante came home looking like he lost it
So Girl Seventeen went to kiss him
He said, “Don’t touch me, I’m HIV positive”
Just make sure you use condoms
And never judge a book by its cover
That’s why, when I look at people now

I don’t know what they’re going through

You don’t know what anybody’s going through

So you gotta respect it.

Neglectful

At the present moment, I feel like that one time when my mom and I didn't know where my dad went for hours on end in the middle of the night years ago. He was never good at lying and from an early age I knew well enough what an alcoholic was. But my dad wasn't the best at seeing through his goals and more times than not he would relapse. Great...here we go again, I'd think to myself. But my mom was the more rational one out of the two of us. In laymen's terms, she knew he was a fuck up and 'change' wasn't in his vocabulary.

But that one night, when I was a sophomore in college home for winter break, he said he had to go out and that he'd, "be right back." Bullshit. He left around 9pm Friday evening and came back around 3pm the next day. At this point, we knew where he was and what he was doing, that was no surprise. The scary part was his phone was turned off all night. After numerous calls from my mother and I, we really had no idea how to get a hold of someone who said he'd, "be right back."*

*And I think that's why I'm so cynical these days - someone can easily say one thing and do the complete opposite. No one is ever entitled to stay when you want them to. There is no "be right back." It means absolutely nothing to me.

Part of me knew he would eventually show up but I still couldn't help but think, "what if". After endless attempts of reaching his voice mail, I finally heard a ringer on the other end of the line I was calling. He picked up and was "greeted" by the angriest nineteen year-old God has graced on this earth. I screamed, I shouted, I didn't let him get a single word in. I was crying frantically and forgot to breathe. My mom heard the cacophony from my room and ran upstairs, "Is he there?!".

"I-I know. I know. I-I'm coming home right now," he said like a teenager who broke curfew. He hung up on me while I was in the middle of my "breakdown." I mean, who wouldn't, right?

That feeling of relief and anger came over me, I didn't really know what to do with myself. I wanted to punch a wall but that would be too expensive to fix. So I cried for a good minute or two before my mother and I gathered ourselves and sat on the couch downstairs like two angry parents waiting for their irresponsible slut of a daughter to come home after prom. Yeah, at this point I'd consider myself the parent and my dad the slutty prom queen. He probably got so shitfaced he forgot to bring his crown home. Tear, tear.

We heard the front door open and he slowly walked up the stairs. His hair, let me know tell you, was a style I've never seen him sport before. It wasn't even stylish! It was disheveled. Justin Bieber wasn't that popular back then but I don't think even he would rock that do. I could tell he was afraid to approach us. He knew he had some 'esplainin to do, ese.' I don't think I've ever seen my dad that embarrassed before. He sat down on the couch far away from my mom and looked down the entire time.

I wasted no time before I ripped him a new one. Nineteen years of pent up anger and frustration came out of my mouth that afternoon. Good thing there was an overcast outside because I think being angry on a sunny day is unproductive. Thinking back to what I said, I can't really remember anything except that I told him that everything I do from now on is only for my mother because she busted her ass for the both of us. I also remember telling him that he's lost 100% of my trust and gaining it back will be a hundred times harder. He nodded in agreement and took in everything I said. He didn't have anything to say back to me. He didn't even turn red with anger after I yelled at him (which I knew my mom was probably nervous about because both her and I knew the shit that came out of my mouth could have set him off like a bull in a china shop). That was the first and only time since then that I've ever yelled at my dad like a parent.

The moral of the story is this - it's been a long while since I've written here. I originally created this blog almost two years ago to channel my final year of college and the ups and downs and trials and triumphs of being a senior. After college, it became more of a #postgradproblems type of blog, channeling my life after college and all of the fucked up bullshit (and good times as well) my life consisted of. And now I feel like how my dad did when he came home that one afternoon. As if my blog is standing there with its arms crossed asking me, "Where the fuh have you been?!"

I've been neglectful.

I've neglected this journal for a long time. It used to be my solace, something I'd turn to when I had no idea who to talk to, or when I didn't want to burden anyone with how I was feeling. And I think when you're so consumed by something or someone else you begin to forget who you are and what you used to do or be. I think the last time I wrote was the beginning of March. I was happy, excited, and optimistic but also sad, frustrated, and really confused. I guess I still am but I guess after writing for the first time in a long time, I'm hoping that all of these emotions will finally unravel into a healthier outlet like this blog. I'm happy to be back. But I've got lots and lots of esplainin' to do, ese.