Archive for December, 2010

Yeah, it’s overwhelming, but what else can we do? Get jobs in offices and wake up for the morning commute?

December 31, 2010

First of all, let me say that I am extremely encouraged that although I haven’t been the best at updating, my blog has received hits EVERY SINGLE DAY SO FAR IN DECEMBER! One more to go! Thank you guys for reading. I would resolve, for the new year, to update more but I don’t do resolutions. I change my mind too frequently to vow to do something for an entire year. I sent my roomie a text that said “My resolution for 2011 is to be a man-eating cunt bitch” and he asked me what the difference would be. ZING’D.

I was joking by the way. Maybe.


Cutting to the chase, I actually went into work today, which I appreciated. I’m desperately broke and could use the cash, especially since I drained my bank account for Christmas. That does mean I spent nearly every last dollar I had…haha. Worth it though. 🙂

Essentially, all I do for work is pack letters–“literature kits” as they call them. Letter. Price sheet. CD. Magazine. Seal. Postmark. Repeat. Needless to say, it’s not much of a mentally taxing job, but it gets pretty dry after a while. I like working for short periods of time, though, because they let me listen to my iPod while I stuff the envelopes. So, I do some mindless work and listen to my iPod while meditating on life. And yes, I actually meditate on life while I listen to my music. Songs bring up questions and ideas about different facets of life. For example, I’m listening to “The Only Exception” by Paramore, which came on shuffle when I was working. Don’t judge me. I appreciate the cynicism towards love in the song, so I ended up thinking about my own cynical standpoint on the l-word. I keyed in on the lines, “Maybe I know somewhere deep in my soul that love never lasts/And we’ve got to find other ways to make it alone or keep a straight face/And I’ve always lived like this, keeping a comfortable distance/And up until now I had sworn to myself that I’m content with loneliness because none of it was ever worth the risk” and nodded my head along. I was all, “Yeah, Hayley Williams. Yeah. I understand that. Love never lasts. Yeah. No falling in that shit.” But, of course, she talks about the exception to that and I get all grumpy.

JESUS I am bad with digressing.

SO. I was plodding along to pick up a box of envelopes/magazines/something from…some random box-filled room that has a specific name which, when spoken to me, is met with a blank “wat” stare…and “Time to Pretend” by MGMT came on. One of the lines is the subject of my entry–the whole “oh nooo sell out get office jobs” yadda yadda. I felt like a SHAM. I waited in line for hooouurrrsss, possibly six, to see this band live (and I was front and center a-thank-you-very-much) who is all about THE DISESTABLISHMENT or freedom or some other hippie shit and then WHAM my secret office job life.

Then I proceeded to meditate on life once again. I thought to myself, well, I’m just doing this because I need the money. Who the hell actually aspires to have an office job? Then I realized that almost everyone I worked with was doing this as a career and not out of the need for sporadic opportunities to hopefully make 50 bucks. I can’t imagine sitting in a cubicle, 9-5, plunking away at a keyboard. How is that gratifying? I imagine getting a hefty check might make it worth it to some people, but I could never stay in a job like that. My current job isn’t torture, since I get the opportunity to just have “me” time which is pretty nice, honestly, but these other people are doing legitimate tasks. I just don’t see the joy in that.

I thought, what if growing up means giving up a part of yourself? Do I have to sacrifice my carefree, wild spirit (lol why did I type that? Cliche.) to fit into a place where I actually can be an asset to a company or a society? I want to be a psychologist, so I have to work under something, but in an ideal world it wouldn’t feel much like a job to me…more like practicing something I love. The people I work under better not tether me much, though, our they will be subjected to bellows of, “I’M A FREE BITCH, BABY.” Seems to be a theme with my entries.

But just because I want to be a psychologist doesn’t mean I necessarily will be one. I have this constant fear that I’m going to fail at everything in life, ever. I’m afraid I’ll end up in a dead-end job I hate just to support a decent lifestyle for decades. I just fear leading a miserable life where I don’t smile or laugh. I fear all of the payments real adults have to pay. I don’t know what half of the words mean in the commercials for financing and things. When numbers appear, my brain goes to mush.

I’m a creature of pure feeling. I don’t know how this is going to translate into being an adult, but I hope I don’t have to give up being a dreamer. I feel like adults don’t dream anymore, but resign into a life of routine. There’s nothing I can do, though. The future is coming like a freight train and I’m gonna get hit eventually. Hopefully it will be painless.



And that’s what really hurts, you do it to yourself, just you, you and no one else.

December 22, 2010

I have been extremely bad with my updates, even after I vowed to myself that I would complete a double thirty day challenge. Well, if anyone reading this knows me particularly well, you know that I am one of those people who gets into a mood very quickly…only to very soon drop straight out of it. I’m bad at committing to things. It’s because I’m a free bitch, baby.

But, really. Classes, papers, coming home, sleeping until my body can’t stand unconsciousness any longer, and Christmas shopping have been consuming my life as of late. I’m happy to say I believe my academic life has taken a turn for the better after a brief hiatus in just-skirting-by land. Oh hooray excelling not being a miserable failure in academia once again!

Now that my brains can please me, what about beauty? I was watching a show the other day while fiddling with solitaire on my phone. I couldn’t be bothered to remember the name of the program, but it was all about the obsession with beauty. Generally, I’m always one of those people who goes THE MEDIA HAS CORRUPTED US ALL! NO ONE REALLY LOOKS LIKE THAT! NO ONE CAN DO THESE THINGS! I never really take a step back and look at myself or the people around me and see what these things are doing to us.

I’ve known people who have struggled with weight and their appearances and it’s something very tragic to witness. I just wanted to shake every person who didn’t think they were beautiful/handsome/sexy/gorgeous/stunning and go, “”MY GOD, YOUR SMILE LIGHTS UP MY LIFE, CUT IT OUT. BEAUTY RADIATES FROM YOU,” but I know that won’t help. I know the most beautiful people, ever, which is cliche and dumb to say–but I do.

Now, there’s something you must understand when I use the word beautiful. I have no clue what any one of you (by you, I mean friends and perhaps lovers hehe) looks like from a completely unbiased point of view. There’s no reversing that, ever. Anyone I care enough to get close to I see as some type of grand being–someone who just emanates beauty and love. You aren’t much of a flesh-and-bones person anymore. When I look at you, I might see deep, gorgeous eyes or a smile that could leave someone breathless. Those things just don’t matter to me after I get to know you. Your personality becomes a shell around you, which is all I process. Sure, when I first meet a person I can see nothing beyond physical appearance, and to be honest, that never is much of a concern of mine. I know people say looks matter but I choose to give people a chance in any setting before just dismissing them as an unworthy person of my time. Going back to seeing beyond physicality! People I get to know become their laughs, their presences, their beings. I will be grateful for the way you pick up my mannerisms, or the way I pick up yours. I’ll think of you as funny text messages at the right time when I feel like crying, not my friend with a slammin’ body. You’re just…a ball of positive love and awesomeness to me. It’s so hard to articulate what I mean, but I hope someone out there understands.

I’m coming across as someone who isn’t shallow, but I have my moments. Trust me. I like hot guys. I SAID IT. Given, my idea of hot doesn’t line up with a lot of other people’s, I still value attractive men somewhat. I care about what I look like. I wish I didn’t, but I can’t help but want to lose weight. I’ve done a good job at maintaining it, which I guess is something I should be proud of, but I feel this constant pressure of you’re 20. This is the best it’s gonna get. This is your one and only chance to actually try to be hot. WHY AREN’T YOU TAKING ADVANTAGE OF THIS?! Admittedly, I’m pretty absurd, but I might not be alone in that. I mean, we all get bombarded with these images that tell us we aren’t good enough. I was just talking with my friend Alyssa over hot chocolates that my Wii fit tells me I should really try to lose 20 pounds. The girls next to us laughed and said that their Wii fits said the same exact thing. Hell, these two were strangers and they were very pretty who didn’t need to change a thing.

This show I was watching, which sparked the need for this post, said that liposuction is 60x more likely to cause a death than any other surgery. While I’m sure I’m getting that statistic wrong somehow, since I may be miswording it or not understanding it, what I do know is that it said 60x and death and more likely. Maybe it doesn’t apply to things like a quadruple bypass, but it was a shocking thing to hear nonetheless. I can’t believe that people would subject themselves to something so risky just to shave off a couple of inches. It’s so much cheaper to just…put down the hot dog and jump on a treadmill. Maybe not easier, but cheaper and less risky.

Some lady wanted to look like Nefertiti on the show, which I guess is cool since she wanted to do it for art or something, but I just don’t understand why anyone would put so much effort into looking like someone else. Your face is what makes you YOU! I thought, when they showed her face, that she was going to be a PLASTIC SURGERY GONE WRONG victim. I guess she’s really pleased with the results, but she looks horrifying to me. Truth be told, I hate my nose and I joke about getting it done all of the time. The jokes are really half-jokes because I’d like to do something about that gigantic honker in the middle of my face. The thing I don’t like about that idea is…my nose is me. My face is me. I feel like changing your face especially by surgery makes you a little less you. And you’re beautiful, damn it.

Of course, I never believe it when anyone calls me beautiful…but I’m sincere! Believe me!

Why are we all so insecure and on constant journeys to better our looks? It’s really such a shame. If it makes you feel awesome, I condone it. Self esteem is great to have. However, if you’re a big part of my life, I love you just the way you are and I couldn’t find a single thing to change about you. Physical flaws aren’t apparent to me, but personality ones are 😉 I wouldn’t change those either, haha, I love you for you! All of you! Every little bit, my loves. Every. Minuscule. Molecule. :3


I guess what they say is true. I could never be the right kind of girl for you.

December 3, 2010

Day #4, commence!

#4 Pissed.

I am very aware of how foolish I look, but that’s how I look when I’m pissed. I won’t retake a picture for this, since I’m not taking it deathly seriously.

#4: The best thing to happen to me this week.

This week wasn’t very good. It started off on a very negative note, which has launched me as close to the edge of sanity as I was willing to go. there are always bright moments, but I just have a big cloud hanging over my head.

But! I went to see Jeffree Star last night, which was really fun. The two opening acts were Dev and The It Boys. Both of them were pretty awesome. They brought great energy. Ian, Alyssa, and I went to the Worcester Palladium, upstairs, which was tiny. There were approximately 100 people there. The other show I went to that was that small was Harry and the Potters back in 2005! In the BURLINGTON PUBLIC LIBRARY, REPRESENT.

We met up with some of Alyssa’s friends. They were quite fun. The crowd was comprised of 15-year-olds and their questionably old chaperones. I wanted to mosh with the little kids, since I know I can kick their pre-pubescent asses. this didn’t happen, much to my dismay, but Alyssa, Ian, and I danced our hearts away to Mr. Star.

He is just as gorgeous in person as he is in pictures. I was struck by his androgynous beauty! He is very skinny and when I put my arm around him for a picture, I was afraid I would break him. You’d expect a guy whose lyrics are, “Ain’t no bitch who can do it like me/I’m the h-o-t s-h-i-t” to be kind of an asshole. He was very humble, polite, soft-spoken, and sweet. He called me baby! Haha.

The Worcester Palladium is tagged with “IB AF AK <3” now, by the way. How fun!

In any case, during an altogether shit-tastic poop of a week, there was some dancing the night away, screaming, and good fun. It helped me take my mind off of things, and it also helped that I was there with my two best friends.

…And that we were behind two Juggalos in line. Fucking miracles.

Some will win. Some will lose. Some were born to sing the blues.

December 2, 2010

If you haven’t noticed, I like to make my blog post titles lyrics of songs I’m listening to at the moment. I try to pick some type of related lyric to what I’m talking about in the entry. Sometimes they have nothing to do with them and they’re just cool. I don’t pick vastly popular songs, but today my Pandora gave me Don’t Stop Believin’. Oh yeah. Anyways!

#3. Sad. I stopped believin'. Didn't hold on to that feelin'.

5 Things that irritate me about the opposite sex, eh? I’m guessing this has to do with my preference, since it said opposite/same sex.

1. I hate that guys think, somehow, they’re more animalistic than girls are. They can’t control themselves, so somehow their dumb sexual actions can be justified. Bad excuse, guys. I’m not saying that guys are animals solely, because I believe that girls are just as bad as guys are. It varies person to person, it has nothing to do with whether you’re male or female. I just hate how both genders drive these wedges between one another. It’s stupid to me.

2. I don’t like that guys think they need to act all tough. I mean, sometimes I like a guy who will stand up for me and be all brave. It’s cute! However, I really like vulnerable, emotional people. I like people who feel deeply, who aren’t afraid to show how they really feel.

3. Morning wood. Don’t poke me with it. I’m sleepy.

4. I don’t like how guys are astounded that I know dorky things/the internet. I’m actually a pretty well-rounded girl. I know a lot of things about many facets of life, so don’t be surprised if I start talking about your sports team, video games, or literature. I guess it goes in conjunction that guys don’t think girls can like cars, shoot whiskey, or do any of those other “manly” things. I bet I could take a shot better than 90% of the men who may read these things, ah thank you very much. I also don’t like how guys are allowed to sleep around and girls aren’t! I mean, sure we all can, but I’m a ho if I do it. A guy is OOOOH A PLAYAAAA.

5. I’m having a hard time coming up with a 5th one, since I honestly don’t have qualms with the male gender as a whole. I sometimes feel like I get along with guys better than I do with girls. I get along with girls if they’re laid back, not stuck up, and willing to just be cool people. Thankfully, all of the girls I associate with are just as such. However, when first meeting people, I just find it easier to strike up a conversation with a guy. I would have an easier time writing about 5 things I don’t like about people in general. I don’t really like to set guys and girls apart for many things. Sexually, yes, because I’m only attracted to males, but other than that…there’s no real difference to me. I guess.

That was such a cop-out 5th thing but it’s true. I quite frankly love men and really just can’t say too many bad things about them. ;P

All we care about is runway models, cadillacs, and liquor bottles.

December 1, 2010

Allllriiiiiiightttt blog #2 in the dual 30 day challenge!

#2. Happy.

Hot chocolate. Pajama pants. Christmas tree. I am what they call, “livin’ the dream.”

Prompt #2: A famous person I’ve been compared to.

Quite honestly, I very rarely…or never…get compared to anyone famous. The one I can recall is that I’ve been told I resemble a “Brown Lady Gaga” on more than one occasion. That might be because I have a large nose. And nothing else.

I went to see Lady Gaga on December 1, 2009. OH MAH GAWD A YEAR AGO, just about. I suppose if you slap a blonde wig on me, sunglasses, a skimpy outfit, and dominatrix boots, then put me under harsh fluorescent lighting I look like Lady Gaga. Some guy in the 7-11 by the Wang Theater approached me to confirm whether or not I was Lady Gaga. I’m not exactly sure what he said. I know that he approached me and asked me where I was from…because he had to make sure I wasn’t her. Interesting.

I also had a couple of girls approach me in line and ask to take a picture with me after I recanted the tale of the random guy in 7-11. I suppose that they agreed with the guy with the teardrop tattoo under his eye…but at least I was in very poor city lighting. What a good show that was!

I’m pleased that I’m not like any celebrity though. To make myself feel better during those “celebrity doppelganger” weeks, I just tell myself that I’m a unique snowflake and I am too special to resemble someone else. My favorite Disney Princess is Esmeralda. Oh my GAWD fierce bitch. Can she count as my famous person?

Maybe you can help me! Who do I remind you of?