Simple Kind of Life

I've been doing a lot of analyzing of my life recently as far as what I want for myself and what I want for the future. There are just so many options, so many alternatives, that sometimes, I wish I was just a simple girl.

"I think your either born simple or you're not. I want to be the person who gets happy over finding the perfect dress. I want to be simple because no one holds a gun to the head of a simple girl." - Dr. Christina Yang, Grey's Anatomy

I know it's kind of immature or un-PC to think of people as being "simple", but there really is a difference when it comes to the way people choose to live their lives. There are the over achievers, the perfectionists, the want to get ahead-ers, the need to control situations, be the best, be the most successful - and then, there are simple people; people perfectly content with where they are in life. With never climbing any higher up the ladder, never leaving the towns they grew up in, no interest in furthering their careers or wanting more for themselves than what they already have, no desire to see the world. People who see the world through rose colored glasses, with blinders on, who live a pre-prescribed life that has been set before them. Who live a blissful life in a world of naivety.

I saw Blue Valentine last weekend. There was a pivotal scene in which Ryan Gosling & Michelle Williams, while trying to have a weekend getaway to save their marriage, have a conversation over dinner. Michelle Williams' character asks Ryan's why, since he has such potential - he can sing, dance, play the ukelele, draw, etc. - he doesn't try to do more, to live up to that potential. His response to her is that all he wants to be is her husband and their daughter's father and why isn't that good enough? And I sat there with tears in my eyes thinking, why is she pushing him? She was right, but he was right too. Her character was in college when they met, on track to one day go to medical school until she got pregnant. Ryan's character didn't graduate high school and was working as a mover in Queens and came from a broken home. To him, to be a husband and a father, something he had never envisioned for himself - to him, that wasn't simple - that was him overachieving.

I know plenty of people in my own life who have the potential to be better, do better/be more, do more and yet, don't bother to live up to that potential. My father is an excellent example of this. I saw so much of him in Ryan Gosling's character - from the pack of Marlboro Reds to his aviator sunglasses to his dashing, full mustache to the way Ryan interacted with their daughter, Frankie; it was completely reminiscent of the interactions me and my father had when I was that age. (Especially the way Frankie favors her father over the cold, distance mother character that is Michelle Williams.) My father grew up poor in the Bronx, was the only male in his family to graduate from high school, he went into the Navy and sailed all over the world yet didn't get a passport until he was 45 and doesn't really want to travel overseas now; he became a husband and a father at 23 - and that's always been 100% completely satisfying for him. He has his little projects that he does around the house, his own hobbies and interests, but he has no real desire to do more than be completely content with where he is in his life right now. That works for him and I can't blame him for that. And if that makes him simple, at least he's happy doing it.

Sometimes, I think it might be easier. To not have to worry about getting a good job or paying my bills on time or finding a nice apartment in a good area that I can afford and still live comfortably. To be happy just being someone's wife and having kids and taking care of the house, doing the laundry, driving the car pool. To raise my family in the same town I grew up in and go to all the same stores, eat at all the comfortable, familiar chain restaurants and the occasional local Italian place. To take our vacations in tourist trap places while toting strollers and diaper bags and screaming toddlers who we neglect to yell at when they're clearly irritating everyone within a 5 foot radius. To not watch my weight constantly and wear sweatpants everywhere and let my roots show.  To just be a simple girl and smile.

Dear Jon...

It's been a long time, huh? Glad to see you're happy and doing well.

It's funny - I found myself thinking about you lately. Just this past Saturday night, I recalled the time you set a blanket on your lawn on a sunny Sunday afternoon and you read my fortune with tarot cards, looking up to see what each one meant from this book you had. Your spirituality was always one of your biggest passions and one of your most endearing qualities.

Remember our first date? Where we got bad Chinese food at that place on Mass Ave with the orange tables. Then picked out 2 movies at Blockbuster - Friday & Minority Report. We never did make it to Minority Report. We went to sleep in my dorm and in the dark, under the covers, I tickled you. You squirmed and then we kissed under my navy blue blanket. Our first kiss.

I think most of the reason I've thought of you lately is because I've met someone who reminds me so much of you. I see so many of your traits in him. You both are gentle and kind and well read. Sensitive. Smart. Caring. Comedic. Lovers of obscure bands/DJs and clove cigarettes. You both love animals and make funny faces and are skinny and fun to hug. You both have dimples with amazing smiles. You are both free spirited, yearning to travel, to see what the world has yet to hold. You march to the beat of your own drums and, in doing so, make the most beautiful kinds of music.

We were young and foolish at a time when it was great to be young and foolish and in love. Alas, distance always gets in the way. The physical distance between us, as well as the distance between us physically.  It makes me sad the way things ended between us, but deep down, I think we know it was the right thing. Our paths had crossed and then one day, my path shifted, but we shared some great times along the way.

I remember the last time I saw you. October, 2005. Club Shampoo in Philadelphia. You came up to me and gave me a hug, stepped back, holding me at arms length and said, "You look great."

"Thank you.", I replied, smiling.

Those were the best kind of words we could have parted ways with.

xoxo

Plan of Study

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Reflection/Reinvention

I decided to log into my old Live Journal today. (I'm pretty sure no one over the age of 20 uses this thing anymore.) My last entry was from June 30, 2006. Four & 1/2 years have gone by and I pretty much could have just written that last post word for word today. Not too much has changed except the passing of time:

.........

and while im not sure yet what i want to do with my future, i think part of me is just struggling to hold on to the past. i walked by a bunch of little kids today and thought to myself, oh to be young again. to not have any problems - no bills, no boyfriends, no stress, no aggravation, no job, no one constantly asking you "So what are you gonna do now?", no one nagging you to save your money, pay your bills, your student loans, this, that, do the dishes, pay the rent...

i cant take it. once school is done, im saving up a bit of money and just getting away for a while. i really need it. ive seriously burned myself out physically, mentally, and emotionally in the past five years...

i really wanna go to japan for a little while. maybe wander around ala scarlett johannson in Lost in Translation... Let myself get lost in a city of rushing people whose language I don't speak. Maybe then no one will be asking me any questions...

i admire my friends who pick up and move around at whim. they're ability to adapt, to change, to accept change... and i want so badly to do that. i want so badly for that to one day be able to be me. to say "hmm, im getting tired of living here - im gonna go there and start over". id love that kind of freedom, but im so so scared.

everyday is getting to be a struggle sometimes. the past six months i was so overwhelmed i thought my head would explode. now, its only slightly overinflated. ive just been working, schooling, everyone else is gone, ive been cut off from all my friends and my passions and it has been driving me seriously insane. ive cried pretty much almost everyday or every other day just because i feel so alone sometimes. i go to sleep at night, i plan out my week in my head: work 11-5:30, home, sleep, start over. work 5:30-12:00, home sleep, start over, school 9:00-12:30, 1:00-4:30, work 5:30-12:00, lather rinse repeat.

my writing has been slacking as well. im not nearly as eloquent as id like to believe i used to be. if that's what i want to do with my life, im starting to think im fucked. but maybe its somewhere in there. its just not ready to come out yet. its like ive had writers block for 5 years... no thats not entirely true. i did do a little writing 2 years ago. yeah, so then only 2 years of writers block. the rest, emptiness.

and its like, sometimes i cant decide if its the drugs or if its the post traumatic stress/post 9/11 thats caused this change. i never used to be so cognizant of certain things - at least not to extremes like now... my social anxiety disorder creeping back slowly, slowly... i dont want the medication. i just want to be normal. i just need someone who i can have close by all the time, who will listen - and really listen, and care. i know theres a few of you out there, but damned, cant i just keep you in my pocket?

alright, its late, im done rambling. i hope i got you up to speed.
xoxo
.........

Isn't it weird to look back sometimes on that person you once were? As much as you want to think you've changed, are changing, can change - you can never completely shed your past. There's always going to be a part of you that still falls into those same patterns and habits.

Reading further posts about the tumultuous "courtship" between me and my ex (dating, falling  for him, not being completely in a relationship and wanting more, afraid to tell him how I feel), I can relate all those same feelings even right now to my situation with Emmett. Sitting around contemplating how he feels, afraid to ask, afraid to tell him,  crying, fretting, worrying, waiting, wishing, hoping...

.....
maybe i shouldn't be too quick to rush this. something deep down inside keeps telling me this is meant to be... take it slow... let him figure out what it is he wants. it's just so hard for me to hold back the feelings. i mean, im not good at expressing them to begin with really, esp. when it comes to him, but everytime those blue brown eyes look into mine, i just wanna tell him i love you. 
 ........
what if hes just using me? that im just some plain ugly stupid girl who he knows likes him and so he takes advantage of that, mistaking my kindness for weakness, and walks all over me? hes probably got all these other girls that i dont even know about that are way prettier and skinnier and cuter and stuff than me and what does he want to hang out with this nerdy fat ugly girl with a big nose and a fat ass for?
........
i know theres nothing i can say or do to make him stay, but i want to at least let him know how i feel... find out if he feels the same, felt the same? would feel the same?... if things would have worked if he were staying...
.........

It's like history is repeating itself - and maybe that's why I'm so terrified to just let myself go in this situation. I know that Emmett is nothing like the POS person that attached himself to my life and sucked all the fun and beauty and happiness and independence out. I just spent five amazing wonderful days with him and know well enough that he's leaps and bounds above that asshole mentally, emotionally, psychologically, spiritually, intellectually. I just don't know how to separate him from these feelings of fear, these severe trust and abandonment issues, the lack of self worth that are attached to personal relationships that I have had recently.

It's a new decade. It's been 10 years since I graduated High School. It's time for me to really start living my life the way it was meant to be lived. I want 2011 to be everything that I wanted my grown-up life to be when I was 17 years old. I want to start my career and have my own cute apartment and trendy clothes and fashionable friends. To feel free and powerful and beautiful and happy and in love. I don't want the record to keep playing on and on. I want to rip the Band-Aid off and stand up for myself and conquer these insecurities once and for all. I want that to be my resolution this year.

So, I'm going to do it. I'm going to tell him how I feel. No matter how hard it is to get the words out, to fight the lump in my throat, to feel the fear and dread of rejection in the pit of my stomach - I'm going to do it. I can't live in fear for another 10 years. I can't spend the rest of my life worrying about the "What ifs" or being afraid that people are going to say "No" to me or get mad when I ask them simple things.  (Thanks for that special kind of fear, Mom.) And then I am going to apply that to the rest of my life. I am going to hold my head up high and ask and demand and fight my way to get where I want to be - and instead of cowering in fear, I am going to politely respond "Thank you for your time" and walk away with my head still high.... And on to the next one.

A New Me: That is my New Year's Resolution.

The Passing Lane

An ex-boyfriend once told me that he loved driving on what he called, "his stretch of highway", this certain little corridor of road near his house that encompassed all the places that he would normally go. It's the part of the road that you most feel comfortable on, where you know all the twists and turns, the potholes, the speed traps; the part of the road that you know like the back of your hand, that you could drive blindfolded.

Today I drove home on my own stretch of highway: It is comprised of the entire portion of I-95 in Westchester between Connecticut and the Bronx. I grew up learning to drive on that stretch of highway, driving with friends, racing cars, getting tickets and flat tires, sitting in traffic, passing accidents - I drove that stretch at all hours of the day and night and in all kinds of weather.Whenever I hit that stretch of highway, it just feels like I can put myself on auto-pilot and always find my way home.

Regardless of the year and a half I've spent in Pennsylvania, and as many times as I have driven on it's various highways, I am still unfamiliar with the pavement, with the construction zones, with the exit numbering, the toll plazas, the merges. I drove home this week for the holidays grasping the wheel, nervous and sweating the whole route from PA, through Jersey until I had finally hit my stretch of highway and could relax.

Your life when you're growing up is kind of like that familiar stretch of highway: you know what's coming around the bend, you have all your expectations, you know where to slow down and when it's safe to let it rip and rev the odometer well beyond the speed limit. Everything is set out right there for you - all the familiar exits and road signs and landmarks. You know where you're going and you don't need GPS. But as you get older, you start to venture out beyond that stretch of highway. You maybe go one exit further then you've gone before, get off and explore an area you've never been before, get lost and have to turn around or stop and ask for directions. 

That's kind of the perfect metaphor for adulthood for me. I'm still trying to navigate this new stretch of highway leading into adulthood. There are so many twists and turns, traffic stops, areas to slow down, exits that are few and far between. I have found myself turning around on several occasions, and even ticketed on a few. I've gotten off exits in bad parts of town and found myself struggling to get back on the highway, to get back on the road again. I know that one day I will get used to it. I will be able to recognize those bumps in the ground as my tires run over them, to be able to tell people how to get to those places that I can't remember now without a map, to know where it's safe for me to push the pedal all the way down and floor it. I'll be able to close my eyes and feel my way through the lanes to get to where I'm going. It will feel just like second nature. 

One day, I'll be able to call this new stretch of highway my own. 

Dear Santa...

When you're a little kid, Christmas is a magical time of year. All the lights and the big tree with the ornaments. The fairytale of Santa going from house to house leaving presents and eating the cookies and milk you've left out for him. The excitement you feel ripping the paper off your new favorite toy - "JUST WHAT I WANTED!", you cry out as your parents take pictures and smile.

But not everyone gets that same kind of Christmas. Many families can't afford to get the name brand toys or the video game systems or the expensive clothes that you want. (My grandparents were barely scraping by, but they still managed to have piles of presents under the tree and in my stocking. And while at the time I found myself sneering at the generic dolls, no-name toys and the homemade trinkets, I realized later on that they were just trying to do all they could with the little that they had because they wanted to see me happy.) Some people can't even afford to get their kids more than one or two gifts, especially the way the economy is now. Obviously, in some cases, people rack up hundreds of thousands of dollars in credit card debit just trying to make sure that Christmas is a happy occasion and that everyone gets what they want.  And in more extreme instances, sacrifices must be made - even if that means disappointing little Johnny or Judy on Christmas morning.

That's where Operation Santa Claus comes into play. Each year, a group of volunteers receives the letters that children (and sometimes even parents in need) write to Santa Clause. They do their best to make Christmas miracles come true. This year, because people have fallen on such dire straits, Santa's letters aren't just asking for Nintendo Wiis or Justin Bieber T-shirts - they're asking for diapers, blankets, even money to keep the electricity on. Many of these kids who write to Santa have never had much, so they're not setting their hopes too high. Some children however, make excessive demands and even include price points. Everyone wants to believe that there's someone out there that will hear their pleas and help them. Everyone wants to believe that Santa Clause will make their Christmas wishes come true. The volunteers do their best to accommodate those that they can - but there's only so many letters that can be answered, only so many prayers that can be answered, only so many people that can be helped.

I have seen Christmas become so commercialized over the years. People become greedier; asking for unnecessary things, trying to satisfy these materialistic desires. I have had friends who only wanted to exchange gifts so that they could get something in return. People pushing and fighting for the last hot toy, trampling Wal-Mart workers to death on Black Friday just to get deep discounts on TVs, video games, etc. What happened to the spirit of the season? The spirit of simply giving and sharing and enjoying those special moments with your loved ones?

Maybe I've been a bit of a Scrooge the past few years, but since I've grown up, Christmas has just lost its appeal to me. Once you enter into adulthood, should you really be berating family and friends with a list of Christmas demands? I have shifted from asking for silly things like TV DVD box sets that will just collect dust or hundreds of Hello Kitty trinkets to useful things like luggage or supermarket gift cards. Anything that I really want, I make enough money now that I can just buy myself; I don't need to ask people to get me things. I used to get upset when people would buy me practical things like an emergency roadside kit for my car or a lunch bag, but now, I see that these are the kinds of things I can really be appreciative of.

Reading the stories about the kids who are writing to Santa has really touched my heart. I wish I wasn't already living paycheck to paycheck so that I could truly help people and change lives and make a difference, make children happy and make them feel like Christmas miracles really do happen. We did a toy drive at work this year and I wish I could have gotten everything on that list and personally distributed the toys and games so I could see the smiles on those kids' faces; so I could feel their joy in knowing that someone cared enough to think about them and get them things that they wanted and wouldn't have been able to receive because of their family's financial situations. So they could rip the paper off those presents and cry out "JUST WHAT I ALWAYS WANTED!" and smile so, so wide. And I would be smiling too while hiding the tears of joy in my eyes as I reveled in their excitement, knowing that I helped make their dreams come true.

I have always had this inner Philanthropist just bursting to get out. I remember coming up with a proposal when I was 16 about setting up housing for the homeless on Governor's Island and finding them jobs and helping them get back on their feet; I told my parents about it and they laughed at me. Whenever me and my friends would fantasize about what we would do if we won the lottery, in my mind I would always set aside a generous portion of my money to use for charitable purposes. I envisioned driving through the streets of Manhattan and handing out $100 bills to homeless people and picking them all up in a limo and getting them cleaned up and well fed for the night - even if they were only going to eventually use the money for booze or drugs or some other degenerate purposes.

I am not a greedy person. My parents came from poverty and always taught me the value of money and of things and making the most of what you have. We lived very comfortably and I never had to worry about having clothes or food for dinner or a roof over my head. Moving from the humbleness of the Bronx to the decadence of Westchester County, I grew up truly understanding the difference between the haves & the have-nots. While my classmates lived in mansions and got brand new cars for their 16th birthdays and wore expensive jeans, I knew that my parents couldn't afford those things and were doing the best that they could. I never took that for granted. Sure, I was jealous at times, but money doesn't buy you happiness.

One day, I am going to be rich and successful. I will live a modest and comfortable lifestyle (possibly splurging a little on expensive shoes & purses), but I will never live beyond my means. I am going to keep good on my promise to use my wealth to do great things. I will walk down the streets of New York and instead of passing over the vagrants with their empty coffee cups extended, begging for change, I will shove in a fist full of large bills. I will start charities to give back to those who really need it. One day, more of those letters to Santa will be answered and more Christmas miracles will come true.

I promise.

My Favorite Things

Well, it's that time of year again when Oprah does her famous "Favorite Things" show; known to cause heavy breathing, bouts of fainting, mild dancing, excessive screaming and even some "OH LAWD!"-ing. She's given away everything from video cameras to phones to clothing, books, food, cars and trips. But why should Oprah have all the fun? Why are her favorite things so important? I've got some pretty awesome favorite things too and I'm gonna share them with you RIGHT NOW! (Of course, I mean sharing in a totally 'over the internet' kind of way. You will not be receiving any of these items - unless you like, steal them from my house or something.)

I now present to you, in no particular order, my 10 most favorite things:

Old El Paso Gordita Dinner Kit

Gorditas are pretty much the most delicious thing you can cook that comes out of a box. They're quick and simple. The spicy ranch sauce is unbelievably addictive. A gordita is kind of like a sexier version of a taco. Here's a personal tip: put cheese on the bottom of the gordita shell first, melt, then add your meat and toppings!






Converse All Stars

Just about the most comfortable sneakers you will ever wear in your life. They're versatile; you can dress them up, you can dress them down. Pair them with skinny jeans. They're iconic! Just remember how cool those red ones looked on Tom Hanks in the movie, BIG. I own them in three colors: black, grey and cobalt blue.







St Ives Apricot Scrub

This is one of the best exfoliator and facial cleansers around. The pain you feel from rubbing this gritty scrub that feels like wet concrete on your skin is masked by its deliciously fruity apricot scent. See how red and raw your face is afterward? That's how you know its working!







Beverly Hills, 90210: The Complete Series

If you grew up in the 90s, you've seen at least one episode of this show. You might not have watched willingly, but you got sucked into the trials and tribulations of the Walsh kids and that catchy theme song was stuck in your head for a week. BH 90210 taught me so much about life and I still, to this day, can relate real life situations to some of its episodes. Like that one where _______. And then there's the time ________. See? You try it now!



Essie Nail Polish: Marshmallow

YOU PICK COLOR!, The nail technician yells at you. You gravitate towards all the bright, shimmery, tantalizing OPI blends. Suddenly, this tiny white bottle catches your eye. It's simple, it's subtle, it's perfect. It's MARSHMALLOW! An almost sheer white polish that doesn't look like when you were going through your "alternative phase" in High School and used to paint your nails with White Out! It's also great for French Manicures.




Britney Spears: The Singles Collection

I fucking love Britney Spears. Sure, she may not sing live, but the legendary, Miss Britney Jean Spears has brought us hit after classic pop hit throughout her career. Now, you can own them all in one timeless collection. Recall all your favorites like "Hit me Baby One More Time", "Lucky", "Stronger", "Toxic" - and even those smash hits from her crazed and shaved head years like "Gimme More". Put on your tightest black v-neck, pop in one of these fierce tracks and pretend you're at the hottest Gay club in WeHo.



Olay Body Wash with Tone enriching ribbons

I am obsessed with this body wash. It is smooth and luscious and leaves a little trace of shimmer all over your skin. You feel moist (not in an awkward way) and sexy all day. And did I mention the SHIMMERS!? Who doesn't want be be sparkly?

Pretzel M&Ms

Let's say you love pretzels, and you love M&Ms, and you love chocolate covered pretzels. Well, guess what? M&M just did you one better and put a pretzel inside an M&M! They're horribly addictive and delicious - a perfectly blend of sweet and salty. Once you pop, you can't stop! (Oh, wait, that's that other snack food...)




The iPod

Remember when you used to make mix tapes back in the day? You'd wait by the radio for your favorite song and quickly press play - then repeat on both sides of a blank Memorex? Then, remember when you were in college and used to download music illegally from Napster and burn it onto a mix CD? Gone are those days. The ipod takes stolen music to a whole other level. I have 120 GBs on my ipod. What do I have on it? Everything. Anything I want. It's full of 60 GB of nonsense right now. And to me, that's pretty fuckin awesome.




Scrubbing Bubbles Toilet Cleaning Gel

 If you're like me, you hate cleaning. You hate cleaning the toilet even more. You hated have to choose between the lil Toilet duck that you have to pull your whole toilet tank apart to get to function, or sticking that gross little clip on to the side of your tank & removing it when the blue disc is gone and the plastic hanger is all covered in piss.Gone are those days. You load up the Toilet gel plunger and stamp a lil flowery disc of scented cleaning amazingness right onto the side of your bowl. It lasts at least two weeks (depending on if it makes it through Chili night or not) and then BAM! you just stamp on a new one. Just sit back and let those cute little bubbles do all the hard work for you.


Well, I hope you enjoyed my favorite things. If not, then I don't really care because I'm sure the first thing on the minds of people in Oprah's audience was "How much can I sell this for on eBay?" when they saw half the shit she was giving away. You can't win em all.