Saturday, January 24, 2009

It Happens Every Day

My original intention with starting this blog was as follows: to write. I simply wanted to make sure that even though I was no longer in school, I kept myself active. It's so easy to slip into not writing, especially after spending the past 5 years doing nothing but. I certainly took enough time off to realize that it's just part of who I am, and as long as I have something to write in, I'll do so.

My first creative writing professor said the following:

"Allow yourself 20 minutes a day to write. Find a corner, a tree, and desk, whatever, and sit down and write. I don't care if it's a novel or a grocery list, eventually, something is bound to come out of it. If you take nothing else but this advice away from this class, then I've done my job."

Easier said then done, yes, but it does work. I get myself in the habit, and then it becomes a drug - I can't stay away. Granted, this is not my first online venture - we've all had the "Teen Open Diary", the "Xanga", and my personal favorite, the "Live Journal" - but I'd say this is my most symbolic and productive. I write what I can, when I can, and if only one person reads it? Then at least one person is reading.

I've also been trying incredibly hard not to write about what's been going on in my life, because part of me feels like it's no ones business. Part of me knows the second my relationship status on Facebook changes from "in a relationship" to "single", a flood of messages and wall posts will follow. Granted, it's great that people care and want to offer sympathy - but what about those people who I haven't spoken to in months or years, who simply message me because they want "the dirt"? As much as I love to hate/hate to love the social networking tool that has become our online lives, I can't stand how impersonal it can all become.

Part of me is afraid to change anything because it makes the situation more real, and seemingly permanent. I don't want to explain the story to every living being, because it's still far to painful and fresh. I'm not looking for sympathy, but friendship.

That being said, it's amazing how my close friends have truly rallied behind me. They have been so wonderfully supportive, listening to me cry, answering my repetitive and ridiculous inquiries, calling me everyday, texting with me nonstop, or spending their lunch break standing with me instead of sitting and eating lunch. I've been keeping myself as busy as I can, because every dull moment leads to spinning thoughts and images that drive me insane. Picturing him with her, having fun, living his life, while I'm stuck picking up the remains alone. Looking back, and knowing that the relationship may have been over in his mind for almost a year, and I had no idea, just wishing things had been handled differently, that he had just talked to me. I have these moments of complete desperation, feeling as though nothing will ever be right again, I'll never find happiness, not alone or with someone else, and just feeling so completely alone and rejected. I feel as though there is literally a hole in my chest, and if a heart could actually break, mine has done so.

I have actually gone two days without crying. Of course I say that now, who knows how tomorrow will be. It's hard just to get out of bed in the morning. I'm always sad. I am not a sad person, and all I feel now is sadness. Perhaps it's too soon, but considering what he did, I should be unbelievably furious and angry - yet all I can do is miss him and want him back. The way he was - not this new person who lies and cheats.

I spent a year knitting him a scarf. It turned out beautiful, and I gave it to him for Christmas. I put my heart and soul into that scarf, and I feel as though every stitch was filled with my love for him. I don't know if he will ever wear it now. I just hope every time he looks at it, he sees me, and knows what he did, and how he ruined something wonderful - and someone.

I told a friend how I felt it was so unfair that he could cheat on me and suffer no consequences, no fallout for the actions - he cheats, we break up, and I'm miserable. Her response was simple: The universe evens everything out, eventually.

I guess we'll just see. Eleven days and counting. This blows.

Sunday, January 18, 2009

All Over The Place

The past 7 days have been a surreal blur.

I don't think that's really the right way to explain it. Maybe, more like a horrible, horrible nightmare I haven't been able to wake up from. The worst part about it is that when I do, eventually, find my way out of this fog, nothing will be the same.

People have always said heartbreak is the worst feeling in the world. I never truly understood what they were saying until now. It's cliche, I know, but it's completely and utterly the truth.

A huge chapter in my life has just ended, and I'm not really sure where to start picking up the pieces. Here I am, caught in one of my very first moments of non-hysterics in the past week, and I'm pretty proud of myself just to be able to sit and write, well...anything at all, for that matter. This is a good span of moments.

To be completely truthful, I keep feeling as though my life is ending, nothing will ever get better, I'd rather die than feel this way, etc.,etc.. And even as I write this, I feel my spirits circling the drain again. But if everyone else in the world can do it? If Ellen DeGeneres can do it? Then so can I. Right?

Tonight was the first time I actually laughed all week, thanks to my spunky little kitten who tried to eat my moms face. Immediately after, I started crying, almost as if I caught myself in the act.

Tonight was also my brothers birthday. It was really hard because he was supposed to be here. I'm really mad at him for not being here.

Everyone is telling me that I'm a great person, full of life and ambition and everything that's good - that it's his loss, not mine, that I will do great things and go far and be better off. Maybe I'm just not there yet, but, to me? If I'm so "great" and all of the above? Why doesn't he want me? Why am I not good enough? If I'm too "good" for him as everyone says, then why am I being dragged through the mud? What did I ever do to deserve this? All I ever wanted to do was love him and make him happy, and receive the same in return - why, then, am I left alone, wadding through the puddles he left me in?

I know, the incessant ramblings of a girl who's going through a breakup, typical blah blah blah. My logic is this: maybe another girl going through the same thing will stumble through here and feel just a little bit less alone with her thoughts. And if not, maybe it was just therapeutic for me to write it out for a few minutes.

But dammit. This fucking hurts.

Friday, January 9, 2009

Yo Gabba Crappa

Over the summer, I was having lunch with my co-workers in the cafeteria, when I accidentally stumbled upon the scariest thing I have ever seen. Maybe ever. This "nightmarish monster", as I like to call it, takes it's form in a children's television show on Nickelodeon. It consists of a skinny male creeper in an orange jumpsuit with a giant German-type fuzzy helmet and extremely large glasses, an over-sized boom box circa 1982, and miniature puppets that come to life. Occasionally, Elijah Wood drops by to "Dancey Dance". What is this horrific monstrosity, you ask?

Yo Gabba Gabba. Yikes.

Created by the Aquabats (as in the band - WHAT?!), the show consists of 5 figurines-turned-giant-costumed-humans: Brobee (a green monster with arms too long for his body), Muno (a bumpy red cyclops), Foofa (a pink flower bubble, apparently), Toodee (the blue cat-dragon) and Plex (the yellow robot who lives in the closet). With their fearless leader, aka "DJ Lance Rock", they learn about manners, having parties in their tummies, and dancey-dancing, all illustrated through song, dance, animated sequences, and occasional rock-out performances by well known musical groups and bands, like The Shins and Supernova (double WHAT), and celebrities like Tony Hawk (teaching skateboarding), Mya, the aforementioned Elijah Wood (again, teaching the "Puppet Master" Dance). Wowzers indeed.

I give this show 2 thumbs up for creativity and being bizarre, and 1 thumb down for being the creepiest shit I've ever seen. On a scale of 1 to 10, 10 being the highest, I would give this show a Q. Remember when Nick Jr. supplied us with decent television entertainment? Does no one remember David the Gnome, Eurekas Castle, or the ever popular Elephant Show? Epic Fail.


Over-stimulated much? Not to mention the random bursts of dancing children, specifically (and he is my favorite of the bunch), Nathaniel? I can't tell if he's really angry, or pooped his pants. Either way, he's my pick for America's next William Hung

Monday, January 5, 2009

Real Life? Yikes.

"If I want to fly, I'll find a way to fly. Do what you love and fuck the rest."

When I was about 5 years old, my mom got me purple cowboy boots. I guess they were really cowgirl boots, since they were purple and suede, and made to fit a little girl, but either way, I wore them with everything, and I wore them everywhere. Then I stumbled upon the book Chesters Way by Kevin Henkes, followed by Lillys Purple Plastic Purse, where one of the characters, Lilly, always wore red cowboy boots. With the exception that Lilly was clearly a mouse, this character was me. Lilly was a carefree soul, who jumped and danced and sang as she strode through life, one simple day at a time, swinging her purple (though, I think it may have been violet?) pleather-synthetic purse through the air.

The other day I was sorting through books at work, and Chesters Way emerged through the pile, staring me straight in the face. I sat down and read the book. Followed by Lilly's Purple Plastic Purse. For those brief moments, I felt five and simple and wonderful.

It's getting hard to see through the fog of money and necessity. I'm starting to see how people so easily lose their hopes and dreams the day a diploma is placed into their hand - and it frightens me to think that I could so efforlessly do the same. It's so easy to get comfortable and settle, because money makes life a little bit easier, and things like food and electricity are pretty much essential to living.

My dad and I have had numerous arguments and fights about this very topic, and my school loan payments start in just a few days. I'm starting to see the things I want get further and further from my grasp, and the dullness of the everyday is now becoming the ordinary. How can you save for a life and a future if you are constantly stuck paying for your past?

A few weeks ago I bought a new pair of boots. They're not quite cowboy, and they're not quite purple - but it's certainly a start. Right? Post-college life is not the ideal dream I had hoped it would be. I'm not living in my own apartment on the Upper East Side. But I'm getting closer.