A few ponderings of my mind that I feel the need to get out before I get to the heart of this blog:
1. I'm not at all the party animal I'd like to be sometimes. I can go out and have a good time, but once it gets too crowded and too late, I get overstimulated and everything stops being fun and just gets tedious and exhausting. I start to get quiet and people always think there's something wrong with me suddenly. But the truth of the matter is that I'm just plain spent and need to go to sleep.
2. Is it bad that, in spite of everyone talking about the beach and getting tan for the summer, I really don't care about getting tan? 'Cause I don't. I'm Irish, Scottish, Italian, German, Welsh, Portuguese, and Cherokee. Notice how 2/3 of my heritage comes from light-skinned European descent. I'm a fair-skinned, mostly caucasian girl who's come to terms with the fact that I'm not genetically made to be tan. In fact, I sizzle up like a slice of bacon in the sun. So, stop telling me I need to go out in the sun and raise my chances of getting skin cancer so I can conform to your ridiculous American standard of beauty. And no I do not want to spend money on a spray tan, either.
3. I'm relapsing into old patterns of behavior that are not at all endearing. It's back to the point where I'm obsessing over the same demons and insecurities ad nauseam. And drinking alcohol makes it worse.
With number three having been said, I am relapsing into nothing more than a royal pain, and therefore I feel the need to hide away for a while. It's a damage control thing. I need time to cool off and regroup before I say something dangerous and ruin my entire life as I know it for the near-future. It's also so I can rethink my attitude a little bit, refocus myself and get back on track and back in control. Lord knows a less than stellar attitude saps productivity and general well-being, and I'm the last person who needs that with the 8,000 tasks I'm taking on or trying to take on.
But mostly, I'm a perfectionist. I hide away in an attempt to control who sees my flaws. Honestly, I'm such a pain the ass when I get like this that it's really just better to spare people the grueling task of putting up with me altogether. After all, I am supposed to be perfect. I mean, God forbid anyone see that I'm a human being! How absurd!
All kidding aside, it's a problem folks (or folk, because nobody reads this)! A problem that I'm still trying to get a handle on after realizing it's a problem a few years ago. I think it has to do with being an only child who was constantly the center of attention. I feel like everyone's watching me, but past the constant parental supervision age nobody really gives a rat's fanny that I'm borderline psychotic some days. Which is a relief, if you think about. However, old habits die hard as they say. Having gotten this off my chest, I'm gonna go disappear for a while.
Oh, and you never read this post by the way. If word gets out that I'm not really perfect, people might judge.
Friday, March 9, 2012
Wednesday, March 7, 2012
Something Mom Should Know
Please refrain from calling me snookie (notice the difference in spelling from "Snooki"). It may have been cute five or six years ago in the Pre-Guido/Guidette days, but now it's just insulting. I am not a short, orange, alcohol-saturated, cussing Oompa Loompa with an obnoxious pompadour. The only thing I have in common to specific aforesaid Oompa Loompa is my extensive sailor vocabulary. That's it. Now, please find a better nickname for me. Please and thank you.
Segue, apparently the rumors have been confirmed. It is true that Snooki is pregnant. Time for jokes.
The fetus was seen in the ultrasound fist pumping.
Snooki's water isn't going to break, her vodka is going to break.
The kid's gonna come out orange and drunk.
Snooki gets pregnant and the Vatican suddenly changes its views on birth control.
Ok, I'm done.
But really, Snooki's pregnant. God help us all...
Disinspiration... If That's Even a Word...
It's been months since I've actually given myself a chance to sit down and write a piece about anything. Scratch that. It's been a while since I've given myself a chance to sit down and finish a piece about anything. I've started several pieces that I, looking back at them in my draft folder, no longer remember where they were going when I started them. I was working on a really good one about my struggle with anxiety that was so overwhelmingly long-winded that I left it to take a break, got a bit lackadaisical, and haven't revisited it until now. You'd think that with my story being my story, I would be able to remember where I was going with it. Creativity and lackadaisy don't go well together.
That's always been a problem with me. I feel so accomplished having finished something halfway that I never feel the urge to push myself to finish it, and I lose my inspiration. I have so many ideas that never become anything because I can't just sit down and focus on them. Imagine my ingenuity if I did! I've had countless ideas for songs, short stories, videos, webcam karaoke (coming soon... hopefully), you name it! Maybe I just have a problem picking something, brainstorming it and sticking to it until it is finished. Although I do enough of that in school.
Actually, it's just now hitting me why I can't finish things on my own time. I get distracted. Case in point right now: I have multiple tabs on my browser that I keep clicking on periodically to see what's up on Facebook, I have music playing, and I keep taking random dance breaks and pulling up my webcam to make faces at myself. No joke. The sentence before this was preceded to one of said dance breaks. Even this piece isn't getting written because I'm getting distracted. I'm too distracted to write about being distracted. Yep.
But cut me a break here! I've been in rehearsals every night, doing films and commercials, and studying, studying, studying for the last how many weeks? I've had an exam every week for the last month. I even deleted my Facebook so I could be more productive, but reactivated it because I was sick of being an isolated hermit.
I think I'm this way because I don't have to do anything right now. I'm on spring break. The one time I don't have to do anything is the one time I don't have any focus. In all honesty, it's glorious to be distractable and get away with it. I'm not being graded or having to meet deadlines, and I'm not getting anything done for anyone else, either. I'm taking the time this week to do anything I want, which is to just be. It's beautiful.
I feel my disinspiration is justified this week.
But really, I do wish I had the inspiration to write a song right now.
That's always been a problem with me. I feel so accomplished having finished something halfway that I never feel the urge to push myself to finish it, and I lose my inspiration. I have so many ideas that never become anything because I can't just sit down and focus on them. Imagine my ingenuity if I did! I've had countless ideas for songs, short stories, videos, webcam karaoke (coming soon... hopefully), you name it! Maybe I just have a problem picking something, brainstorming it and sticking to it until it is finished. Although I do enough of that in school.
Actually, it's just now hitting me why I can't finish things on my own time. I get distracted. Case in point right now: I have multiple tabs on my browser that I keep clicking on periodically to see what's up on Facebook, I have music playing, and I keep taking random dance breaks and pulling up my webcam to make faces at myself. No joke. The sentence before this was preceded to one of said dance breaks. Even this piece isn't getting written because I'm getting distracted. I'm too distracted to write about being distracted. Yep.
But cut me a break here! I've been in rehearsals every night, doing films and commercials, and studying, studying, studying for the last how many weeks? I've had an exam every week for the last month. I even deleted my Facebook so I could be more productive, but reactivated it because I was sick of being an isolated hermit.
I think I'm this way because I don't have to do anything right now. I'm on spring break. The one time I don't have to do anything is the one time I don't have any focus. In all honesty, it's glorious to be distractable and get away with it. I'm not being graded or having to meet deadlines, and I'm not getting anything done for anyone else, either. I'm taking the time this week to do anything I want, which is to just be. It's beautiful.
I feel my disinspiration is justified this week.
But really, I do wish I had the inspiration to write a song right now.
Thursday, October 27, 2011
I may as well...
... consider this thing as my own private journal. Nobody ever reads it! (Cue cuss words and innappropriate content)
Monday, October 24, 2011
My Hater Senses Are Tingling
Since moving away to college, I've made some fairly recent discoveries about myself that I never would have known had I not stepped out of my comfort zone and left home. Several of these said discoveries have been posted in this blog at one point or another (If you want a good example, please the read my very long-winded past blog "The Ambivert's Point of View".). One thing I've learned is that I'm not really as big an extravert as I thought. Another is that I don't belong in the sciences. Third of all, and I'm pretty sure everyone who's known me for a good long time knew this before I did, I lack a lot of social graces, and thus either stay very quiet, or attempt to remove any traces of formality from my interactions with people by pointing out just how awkward/annoying/ditzy/you-name-it I am. I feel that after spending years as a socially awkward, semi-introverted weirdo, I have had enough life experience in this department to come to this conclusion about myself: In most social situations that I put myself in, there is always one person in the room that hates me. Go ahead and have a laugh, but it's true.
Everything about this post reeks of paranoia to most of you. I mean, really. How can there be one person that hates you EVERYWHERE you go? I know that's what you're thinking. But it's true. I know this because it's happened several times before. Sometimes it's wholly undeserved. For example, the younger sister (who I'd never met before that night, mind you!) of a friend of mine being rude to me and whispering hateful things to her friends about me because she had a mad crush on my boyfriend at the time. Or my ex-friend (who I refer to as my "frenemy") constantly talking trash about me for everything I did, mostly pertaining to my musical theater performances in school out of jealousy. And don't even get me started on my ex-roommate last semester. There's more, but I need not go on lest this post take up more of your precious time.
Most of the time it is deserved though. Putting my foot in my mouth is a regular occurrence. So regular, I should consider making it a hobby just for kicks. I have this dry sense of humor that, upon first impressions, is very off-putting to those who don't know me. I'm occassionally a bit too blunt for the general population's liking. This has been pointed out to me by everyone close to me. My boyfriend, my mom, my dad, my grandparents, you name them, chances are they've brought it up. As a result, somebody ends up disliking me. They may not make it known right then and there, but I can tell by the uncomfortable aura dwelling in the air, or the comments made so matter-of-factly by someone about it sometime afterwards. Take my mom's friend, for example. My family and I went out blueberry picking on a sunny, very hot, very humid day in Florida and we met up with anonymous friend. In making small talk and trying to exchange pleasantries, she asked me how I like blueberry picking. I respond with "I'm indifferent." There was also the uncomfortable argument my mother and I had about her not letting me audition for Royal Carribbean because she was afraid I'd drop out of school. Yeahhh. I remember trying to be funny and silly after those lapses in basic interaction etiquette, and my mom saying, "We're trying to have a conversation here! Can't you go somewhere else?" Or something along those lines. Although it was quite humorous looking back and is a running joke between my mom and her anonymous friend, I'm almost positive she thinks I'm a snot.
That story barely scratches the surface as far as my socially inept self goes. There was also a rather obnoxious comment I previously made to my roommate today, too, with the intention of being humorous, of course. Again, with the off-putting dry humor. I wonder if she secretly hates me too, as we live together and inevitably every one of my flaws has reared its ugly head at one time or another. It really doesn't need to be discussed as I'm a bit embarassed. AND just last night I was told by my boyfriend that we need to work on my diplomacy in talking to people. There are countless other examples, but I need not go on lest this post take up even more of your precious time.
I've been making an effort to apologize, or clarify what I mean when I come off as too blatant, however it doesn't seem to soften the blow of realizing that I've irritated yet another person. Sometimes I try using "I don't give a shit if I've offended you" to try and grow a backbone about it. That doesn't work, either. There's still that recurring thought in my mind that tugs at me that I possibly unintentionally burned a bridge just by being my awkward self.
Or maybe it only seems this bad to me because I'm on the inside looking out. Maybe if I tried to stand outside and look in I could see a tiny inkling of potential social grace. But who am I kidding?
Perhaps this is the reason for my sudden introversion. I think sometimes I should swear off social interaction and just take up writing, or perfecting my craft as a performer. Just bury myself in my work. Maybe if I just keep quiet and not say much, I won't have to struggle with my embarassing, uncanny lack of tact and/or common sense, and maybe my undiscovered hidden brilliance can speak for itself in my acting and writing. I mean, most creative geniuses are a little eccentric and socially retarded, right?
Having friends and being liked is overrated anyway...
Everything about this post reeks of paranoia to most of you. I mean, really. How can there be one person that hates you EVERYWHERE you go? I know that's what you're thinking. But it's true. I know this because it's happened several times before. Sometimes it's wholly undeserved. For example, the younger sister (who I'd never met before that night, mind you!) of a friend of mine being rude to me and whispering hateful things to her friends about me because she had a mad crush on my boyfriend at the time. Or my ex-friend (who I refer to as my "frenemy") constantly talking trash about me for everything I did, mostly pertaining to my musical theater performances in school out of jealousy. And don't even get me started on my ex-roommate last semester. There's more, but I need not go on lest this post take up more of your precious time.
Most of the time it is deserved though. Putting my foot in my mouth is a regular occurrence. So regular, I should consider making it a hobby just for kicks. I have this dry sense of humor that, upon first impressions, is very off-putting to those who don't know me. I'm occassionally a bit too blunt for the general population's liking. This has been pointed out to me by everyone close to me. My boyfriend, my mom, my dad, my grandparents, you name them, chances are they've brought it up. As a result, somebody ends up disliking me. They may not make it known right then and there, but I can tell by the uncomfortable aura dwelling in the air, or the comments made so matter-of-factly by someone about it sometime afterwards. Take my mom's friend, for example. My family and I went out blueberry picking on a sunny, very hot, very humid day in Florida and we met up with anonymous friend. In making small talk and trying to exchange pleasantries, she asked me how I like blueberry picking. I respond with "I'm indifferent." There was also the uncomfortable argument my mother and I had about her not letting me audition for Royal Carribbean because she was afraid I'd drop out of school. Yeahhh. I remember trying to be funny and silly after those lapses in basic interaction etiquette, and my mom saying, "We're trying to have a conversation here! Can't you go somewhere else?" Or something along those lines. Although it was quite humorous looking back and is a running joke between my mom and her anonymous friend, I'm almost positive she thinks I'm a snot.
That story barely scratches the surface as far as my socially inept self goes. There was also a rather obnoxious comment I previously made to my roommate today, too, with the intention of being humorous, of course. Again, with the off-putting dry humor. I wonder if she secretly hates me too, as we live together and inevitably every one of my flaws has reared its ugly head at one time or another. It really doesn't need to be discussed as I'm a bit embarassed. AND just last night I was told by my boyfriend that we need to work on my diplomacy in talking to people. There are countless other examples, but I need not go on lest this post take up even more of your precious time.
I've been making an effort to apologize, or clarify what I mean when I come off as too blatant, however it doesn't seem to soften the blow of realizing that I've irritated yet another person. Sometimes I try using "I don't give a shit if I've offended you" to try and grow a backbone about it. That doesn't work, either. There's still that recurring thought in my mind that tugs at me that I possibly unintentionally burned a bridge just by being my awkward self.
Or maybe it only seems this bad to me because I'm on the inside looking out. Maybe if I tried to stand outside and look in I could see a tiny inkling of potential social grace. But who am I kidding?
Perhaps this is the reason for my sudden introversion. I think sometimes I should swear off social interaction and just take up writing, or perfecting my craft as a performer. Just bury myself in my work. Maybe if I just keep quiet and not say much, I won't have to struggle with my embarassing, uncanny lack of tact and/or common sense, and maybe my undiscovered hidden brilliance can speak for itself in my acting and writing. I mean, most creative geniuses are a little eccentric and socially retarded, right?
Having friends and being liked is overrated anyway...
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
Only By Coincidence?
Before you read this, please take into consideration what you are about to read. By posting this, I am only contributing to the surplus of useless information that we have on the internet, and reading this post will cost you a few good minutes of your day that you cannot get back. This is so absolutely useless to you that you might want to be sure there is nothing better for you to do in the five minutes it takes to read it. Just know that.
Without further ado...
There's this saying in the world of women that goes along the lines of: You know it's going to be a good day when your underwear matches your bra.
My question is does that still count if you match your underwear to your bra on purpose? Or does it only count if it's accidental? Because I did it on purpose today and it's been a rather humdrum day in the life, if not a little weird towards the end.
Around 12:30, going on my 2nd hour on Facebook, I decided that nothing was going to get done if I was spending my time on the internet sitting in bed. I got up and changed my clothing from a really comfortable top into a black turtleneck, black pants, and heels, thinking because it's overcast out, it shouldn't be hot at all. Wrong. I got about halfway across the parking lot outside my dorm and I was sweltering. Wearing all black with a polyester tank top underneath your shirt is never a good idea. I should have just gone without the tank and played dumb to my shirt being see-through. Or better yet, I could have avoided changing at all. Luckily, the library was cold inside. I spent about four hours studying before I decided to head back.
I stopped in the food court in the Union to get a crepe because someone gave me a coupon for a free one at lunch. I ordered a very delicious looking cheesecake crepe with cheesecake, nutella, strawberries and whipped cream (There's a point to this running commentary of my day, I promise.). It was when I went to sit down to eat it that things got weird. I didn't think I would be able to eat this thing walking back to my room, so I decided to sit in the middle of the courtyard outside on a bench. This crepe was freakin' delicious, folks. For a brief moment, time stood still. And then it started to get messy. Of course, me being me, I wasn't about to take the time to eat this thing with a napkin on hand. I was in a hurry to get home, after all. So I continue to eat it and whipped cream starts running down my hand, and then onto my pants, and I'm trying to clean it up by using the sleeve the crepe was put in to scoop it off my pants. Then a huge blob of nutella-covered strawberry lands on my pants and by then, I've had it. By the time I was taking my last two bites there were about 30 or so people walking around in the courtyard, 5 or 6 of which walked by staring at me. I have chocolate all over my hands and my pants, and I can't even pick my stuff up without getting chocolate all over everything. I have another question. Why is it that awkward situations like this only seem to pop up on me when there's about 8 million people around to stare? I mean, I like an audience as much as the next theater geek, but this is pushing it a bit.
The point of this running commentary is that despite how adorable your choice of lingerie looks under your clothes, it probably isn't going to change the type of day that is in store for you. Besides having a good laugh over spilling crepe all over myself, my day has been pretty boring. But more importantly, I feel way more sorry for you, who has wasted a good five minutes of your day reading this useless crap.
Without further ado...
There's this saying in the world of women that goes along the lines of: You know it's going to be a good day when your underwear matches your bra.
My question is does that still count if you match your underwear to your bra on purpose? Or does it only count if it's accidental? Because I did it on purpose today and it's been a rather humdrum day in the life, if not a little weird towards the end.
Around 12:30, going on my 2nd hour on Facebook, I decided that nothing was going to get done if I was spending my time on the internet sitting in bed. I got up and changed my clothing from a really comfortable top into a black turtleneck, black pants, and heels, thinking because it's overcast out, it shouldn't be hot at all. Wrong. I got about halfway across the parking lot outside my dorm and I was sweltering. Wearing all black with a polyester tank top underneath your shirt is never a good idea. I should have just gone without the tank and played dumb to my shirt being see-through. Or better yet, I could have avoided changing at all. Luckily, the library was cold inside. I spent about four hours studying before I decided to head back.
I stopped in the food court in the Union to get a crepe because someone gave me a coupon for a free one at lunch. I ordered a very delicious looking cheesecake crepe with cheesecake, nutella, strawberries and whipped cream (There's a point to this running commentary of my day, I promise.). It was when I went to sit down to eat it that things got weird. I didn't think I would be able to eat this thing walking back to my room, so I decided to sit in the middle of the courtyard outside on a bench. This crepe was freakin' delicious, folks. For a brief moment, time stood still. And then it started to get messy. Of course, me being me, I wasn't about to take the time to eat this thing with a napkin on hand. I was in a hurry to get home, after all. So I continue to eat it and whipped cream starts running down my hand, and then onto my pants, and I'm trying to clean it up by using the sleeve the crepe was put in to scoop it off my pants. Then a huge blob of nutella-covered strawberry lands on my pants and by then, I've had it. By the time I was taking my last two bites there were about 30 or so people walking around in the courtyard, 5 or 6 of which walked by staring at me. I have chocolate all over my hands and my pants, and I can't even pick my stuff up without getting chocolate all over everything. I have another question. Why is it that awkward situations like this only seem to pop up on me when there's about 8 million people around to stare? I mean, I like an audience as much as the next theater geek, but this is pushing it a bit.
The point of this running commentary is that despite how adorable your choice of lingerie looks under your clothes, it probably isn't going to change the type of day that is in store for you. Besides having a good laugh over spilling crepe all over myself, my day has been pretty boring. But more importantly, I feel way more sorry for you, who has wasted a good five minutes of your day reading this useless crap.
Monday, September 19, 2011
Some Positivity
When I came back to Tallahassee, I forgot how much I missed being on my own. Clearly that was not apparent by my last post. However, I've vented and made some changes to my life and thinking, and I've bounced back (like always ;). A few things I'm doing to keep myself happy:
1. Taking the time to get out! See #2
2. Always making time to exercise. It really sucks being cooped up in my dorm stuck in the throes of homework. That was the story of my life last semester. I think it put me in a mini-depression because I had nowhere to go and not many friends. Sucked. But the gym helps keep my emotions in check, anyway.
3. Stop using the scale. This is not a joke. I don't use the scale anymore. I'm hitting the gym almost every day and lifting weights like a beast, and obviously I'm going to GAIN muscle weight. But if I see the number on the scale going up, it's gonna piss me off. I know this because it's happened before. So I've decided to keep things on the basis of the way my clothes fit. If they fit the same way, great. If not, time to kick it up and eat lighter.
4. Getting involved in something I'm passionate about! I've auditioned for EVERYTHING this semester. I auditioned for the School of Theater's season, Leave Your Mark Production's season (I'm playing Clea in Black Comedy!! Yippee!!), Clutch magazine, and student films! There's auditions for Into the Woods in three weeks, too. After this play, something else has to come up for me. I've really been putting myself out there.
5. Quit comparing myself to other people. There's only one person who can be me, and it's NOT any of you! I have a lot to bring to the table that no one else can, so why would I rack my brain about wanting to look like or be someone else?
Needless to say, I'm feeling oodles better than I was a few weeks ago. I think after this show I'm going to cut my hair short and redo my headshots. Like one of those 1920's layered bobs. I'll not only feel new, but look like a completely new woman! ;)
1. Taking the time to get out! See #2
2. Always making time to exercise. It really sucks being cooped up in my dorm stuck in the throes of homework. That was the story of my life last semester. I think it put me in a mini-depression because I had nowhere to go and not many friends. Sucked. But the gym helps keep my emotions in check, anyway.
3. Stop using the scale. This is not a joke. I don't use the scale anymore. I'm hitting the gym almost every day and lifting weights like a beast, and obviously I'm going to GAIN muscle weight. But if I see the number on the scale going up, it's gonna piss me off. I know this because it's happened before. So I've decided to keep things on the basis of the way my clothes fit. If they fit the same way, great. If not, time to kick it up and eat lighter.
4. Getting involved in something I'm passionate about! I've auditioned for EVERYTHING this semester. I auditioned for the School of Theater's season, Leave Your Mark Production's season (I'm playing Clea in Black Comedy!! Yippee!!), Clutch magazine, and student films! There's auditions for Into the Woods in three weeks, too. After this play, something else has to come up for me. I've really been putting myself out there.
5. Quit comparing myself to other people. There's only one person who can be me, and it's NOT any of you! I have a lot to bring to the table that no one else can, so why would I rack my brain about wanting to look like or be someone else?
Needless to say, I'm feeling oodles better than I was a few weeks ago. I think after this show I'm going to cut my hair short and redo my headshots. Like one of those 1920's layered bobs. I'll not only feel new, but look like a completely new woman! ;)
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