Candid

1. I love knowing that some friends will always be there, no matter what. Weeks, months, years can go by without their presence in your life, but when you two meet up for brunch or breakfast or dinner or drinks, it’ll be like you just saw them yesterday. No one makes anyone else feel guilty about anything, they’re just there, and they will always be there when you need it, no questions asked.
2. Sometimes, all you really need is wine, good company, and lots and lots of chocolate.
3. I hate it when guys say, “I’m Different.” Cause they’re not. They’re almost all the same. I want to hear a guy say, “I’m just like any other guy, but here’s why you should still be with me.” On the other side of the spectrum, I hate it when sweet talkers say I’m different. Cause I’m not. I’m just like any other girl. I don’t put you on a pedestal, you shouldn’t put me on one either.
4. I wasn’t prepared for this Christmas. I kind of ran away from my obligations for a while because I was trying to deal with some things, and then suddenly, I was back at work, only having enough time to eat and sleep everyday, that I didn’t have time to get any presents or make myself feel any kind of Christmas cheer. December’s always been a tough month for me.
5. I wish sex meant something more to me than just sex. It’s never meant love or affirmed a relationship for what it is. It’s always just been the act of a penis in a vagina several times. That doesn’t mean I whore myself out. It’s never been about love, but it’s also never been about pleasure for me. Fireworks never went off. The fuse just kind of, stopped. Sad, huh? 
6. I like Dunkin Donuts better than Krispy Kreme. 
7. I didn’t realize how much pride I had til it got kicked to the curb. For all my claims of independence and she-woman-ness, I am a very proud female. And what sucks is it only took two weeks for it to come crashing down. For the wall to fall apart and for me to revert back to a sense of frailty. I gotta work harder to build a tougher wall next time.
8. I hate hate hate it when people say things won’t change. I hate it even more when people promise me nothing is going to change between us. That’s a lie. Change is inevitable. What you have to do is prove to people that you’ll work when change comes. Don’t promise me you’ll be here forever (whether we’re just friends or something more). I’ve learned people leave. But while you’re here, make our time together worth it.
9. I have offered many people the chance to visit me at work. It has surprised me to see who has taken me up on that offer.
10. Some people don’t understand that, just because I am frustrated with the male sex, doesn’t mean I hold girls up on a higher standard. Girls suck just as much as guys do. Some girls are crazy, some are out to break your heart, and for all you fools who continuously go to the same kind of girl to see if she’ll be different than the next, good luck. That goes for the same with girls who continuously go for a certain type of male hoping “this one will be different” (including me). Stay away from sweet talkers and heart breakers. They’ve done these things one too many times and they know how to get you.
11. I’ve never had anyone to kiss when the clock struck midnight on New Year’s Eve. I’ve always been with family, and the first person I probably turned to was my mom or dad. I’ve also never kissed anyone under the mistletoe. I wonder if/when that will change.
12. I’ve stopped trying to explain my schedule to people I’ve explained it to many times before. Either you get it or you don’t. I work weird hours, I can’t socialize on weekends (all I do is sleep, eat, and work. Seriously), Sundays & Thursdays are kind of my days off, I go to sleep at 4am. Oddly, when I am off, I do like to go out. Because I know when I eventually leave the bubble of Virginia Beach, I won’t see anyone again for a long time.
13. If you’ve read the Twilight series, can you tell me when you started crying? I’ve been gushy and mushy and girly with all the other parts, and now I’m on book two and I can’t seem to find myself feeling anything. I’m as numb as she is. Oh, and Edward Cullen has ruined all other males for me.
14. Don’t keep me on a leash, even after we’ve ended whatever it is we had. I hate knowing that I am the type of person who will always be there for you, for every beck and call. But as much as I hate it, I am that person. And everyone who knows me knows that fact. I will be there for you no matter how much you dicked me over. But I hate it when people use that knowledge to their advantage. Please, don’t abuse that power over me.
15. My back’s been bruised for almost a month now. My doctor says all I need are 2 Aleves twice a day. I dunno… Sometimes it hurts to be in/get out of bed, stand, sit, walk, laugh, and drive. This probably isn’t a good thing.
16. I’ve learned to do everything for myself instead of for someone else. I used to think maybe the more I did for them, the more they’d want to stay. They never stayed. So now I’m finally learning to act selfishly and do what makes me happy first. You next. Maybe someone will come along and prove to me that’s not how life works. You know where to find me.

2008 revisited

When I wrote my 2008 Year-In-Review, I thought, what more could happen in the next 19 days? The year is almost over, I’ll be on vacation for a week, and then work for 10 days straight. I’ll be so immersed in enjoying DC and then working nonstop that I won’t have time for stress or worries or any end-of-the-year nonsense. Lies. I’ve just been kicked and tossed to the curb. It’s a fairly simple act, not much drama involved, and yet, ouch.

It’s not something any guy or girl enjoys admitting, but there it is. Bare and naked and out there like that Madonna photograph where she’s standing in the middle of the street, naked, trying to hail a taxi. That kind of naked. Naked and dumped. Right before the holidays. Right before all the mushy gushy Merry Christmas gift exchanges and Happy New Year First Kisses. Granted, it was partially my fault. I listened to those sweet nothings and thought maybe they were true. I let myself believe in them; let myself hope for truth behind those worn-out words. 

I am writing the first draft of today’s ramblings on the balcony of the apartment of the friend I’m visiting. It’s cold and windy and I have nothing on but my pajamas, a jacket and socks. I can see the white dots in the shape of a triangle through the slats of the blinds across from me. It’s the last day of my Northern Virginia Adventure, and I’ve loved every minute of it.

I had planned a December getaway months ago so I could visit my cousin in Spain. When the price of a plane ticket cost me as much as a semester at ODU, I ditched those plans. San Francisco was next, but there’s another dicked-over phase in my life I really shouldn’t revisit.  So when that didn’t work out, I decided Northern Virginia was my soluton. I had not seen Aimee or Raymond in months, and I didn’t want to miss out on anymore of Eleena’s growth, so I made up my mind. At first, it was to relax and get away from work. Then it evolved. Now I’ve been faced with thee task of nursing a bruised ego. Trying to repair what semblances of pride I once had.

All throughout the trip, I would distract myself from thinking about the situation back in Virginia Beach — what I had to eventually come home to and face. Amidst the scenic Potomac River view of the obelisk and dome from the subway train, the beautiful butterflies fluttering inches from my face, the 30-foot wide Master Control monitors from the Newseum, the 9-11 documentary that had me fighting back tears, the amazing paintings and statues that had my heart hurting and craving for creativity at the Art Museum, the faces that stared out at me at the Portrait Gallery, the art&trinket-filled sidewalks of DC, and the beauty and allure of Shirlington and Busboys & Poets — the thought of what I had to get over always lingered in the back of my head. 

There is something to be said about the power of sleep. You knock out, with every worry of the world and your life on your shoulders. When you wake up — nothing. Just the comfort and fresh-linen scent of fluffy pillows and, in today’s case, Rolfie’s saliva on my sweater. Normally, I make it my conscious decision to start worrying again when I should just let it go. Release. Today I sit here, wide awake at six in the morning, watching the sun slowly peek through the abysmal gray clouds, and I think to myself, It’s done. I’m over it. What’s the use of dwelling on this insignificant chapter of my life? The ego hurts, sure, but the heart is still intact. It was on my sleeve, but slightly covered and protected. I didn’t let this one snag a piece of it just yet, thank goodness. I saw him recently, and he approached to say hi, but I wouldn’t have it. I was rude, I’ll admit that, but I was done being humiliated; I wouldn’t have let it happen again. Another lesson learned, another name crossed off my list of potentials. 

While on the Metro yesterday, after a long and freeing walk around the National Mall, I saw a man do push-ups in the middle of the subway carriage. As soon as the doors closed and people cleared the aisle, he got down on his knees, placed his push-up bars on the ground, and began to exercise. As awkward and entertaining as it was for me watching it, I’m sure the people sitting by his bobbing head were even more perturbed. As soon as the train slowed down, he got up, shrugged and stretched his shoulders, and followed the flow of commuters out of the train and onto the platform. During those odd five minutes, I had my phone in my hand — capturing the strange turn of events unfolding in front of my eyes. And that’s when I realized — I didn’t have anyone to share it with. Raymond and I were sitting together watching this, but I wanted to be able to text someone and say, Hey, guess what I saw! Moments like this have to be captured and spread… but there was no one on my receiving end. And that’s all I want, really. Someone who would enjoy casual ridiculousness that occur in my life.

I go back to work on Monday, and I work straight for the next 10 days. I’m pulling a double on Christmas eve, and I get off work around 10:30 on New Year’s eve. I will be distracted enough to forget what’s been done to me, distracted enough to let the wounded ego heal itself. January 1st will be my official first day off, and I plan on enjoying it. Once again, I’d like to be there for the first sunrise of the New Year (maybe we’ll actually wake up to drive to the Oceanfront). I’ve got everything I need in life right here, right now. Everything else is just superfluous wanting. There are ten days left in 2008… Let’s hope this really is the end of my year in review.

Goodbyes

I think that is the theme for the outgoing year of 2008.

Hovering thought of the moment:
“There are some people who live 70 years, and there are some people who live one year 70 times, repeating what they’re doing over and over in the name of the gold watch or whatever.” – Dr. Wayne Dyer

Last year, at the end of 2007, I wrote about everything I went through, everything I longed for, and everything I wanted to change. I still don’t believe in New Year’s resolutions because we should always be trying to better ourselves every day we’re alive. Just because it’s 2009 doesn’t mean you should automatically change your habits and your actions. It’s a gradual process, at least for me. When you know you don’t like a small part of who you’re turning into — why wait until January 1st to do anything about it? Anyway, at the end of 2007, I told myself, If I’m going to be reckless and thoughtless and haphazard, I will do so of my own free will. And I have.

This year, I got to see a very different side of me. This year, my heart was like some kind of party favor: anyone who ventured in to take a sneak peek at the celebrations got a little something to take home with them. It was on my sleeve, for whoever wanted a go at it. Many tried, and most got away with a bloody little piece. But, just like a party, it had to end at some point.

2008 was the year I learned to say goodbye.

I know I was haphazard with my emotions this year. I was on some kind of rush for feeling and passion, with an “I’m in it to win it” attitude that I didn’t see (refused to see?) the proverbial light at the end of the tunnel. All the relationships I engaged myself with were inevitable to fail. Not because of me or him or a lack of chemistry… it was because the situation was already mapped out before we even met. Everyone was already on the road to their new life when I met them. Their bags were packed, their cars ready to go, and the only thing left to do was give the high-five of goodbyes (okay okay, the most anyone ever got was a goodbye kiss). While they moved on and made a new life for themselves, I stayed here, waiting for my turn to go. So, I had to learn to say goodbye — and deal with it. There were a few trivial ones, a few that left me frog-faced at the end of the day, and then, there was the big heartbreak.

I wrote this last year, as a precursor to what I had hoped 2008 would bring me:

One day – a day that a ticking clock or a flipping calendar can’t reach – I want to love utterly and completely and I want to be engulfed in a romance that might lead to another breakdown. Tomorrow, next month, next year, five years. I want another one. One that impacts me just as hard as last one, if not harder. You learn from it, you know? You will be able to get up from bed one day, mascara-streaked cheeks and puffy red eyes, and you say “Fuck it.” You say it with conviction and confidence and one day you just know you’ll be good again. Great, in fact.

And once again, you tell yourself you’ll take it one day at a time. You love one day at a time, you hate one day at a time. When it begins, it begins, and when it’s over, it’s done. You say goodbye and you move on and you make goals for yourself about how the next time is going to be better and lovelier and how you’ll be stronger and tougher and you’ll know how to fight it out when it ends.

Well, it happened. I became engulfed, engrossed, entrapped — go ahead, pick any “en” word you can think of. I was submerged in it. And it was the worst situation out of all the ones I had been in. It was beautiful from day one… it was also inevitable to fail from day one — we both knew it. But I jumped in, head first, not worried that it was only two feet deep; not worried that I would hit the bottom of the pool so hard I’d be left with a bump the size of Brooklyn. 

But you know what was the best part about it? When it finally ended, I woke up with mascara-streaked cheeks and puffy red eyes, and I said “Fuck it.” I said it with conviction and confidence and I knew I was going to be alright. I’m proud to be able to say — I said goodbye, I moved on; I’ve made goals for myself about how the next time will be even better and lovelier and how, if ever confronted with that situation again, I’ll know how to fight it out til the end.

 

All throughout this process of self-evolution, I like to see that there are some things that haven’t changed completely. I picked up a copy of Twilight last week to see what the hype was all about… and I loved it. I squealed and giggled and swooned and made ridiculous noises anytime Edward and Bella were even mentioned in the same sentence. I like to know that there’s still that side of me, the quintessential hopeless romantic pre-teen who still wants to be swept off her feet. The girl who dreams of romance and love and the possibility of soul mates. I still get pointless crushes; I still love to drive my car (Sam!) and go on road trips (even though I had to halt it for a bit after the accident); I still don’t know how to put make-up on (although hopefully with the help of some friends I’ll know what to do with all the stuff I splurged on from Ulta); I still love the holidays and the Christmas cheer (no matter how commercialized you think it’s gotten) and my favorite song is still Last Christmas; I still get tongue-tied and my stomach braids itself into knots whenever I hear Yumeji’s theme; I still can’t swim. 

So where does that leave me as 2009 begins? Well, I’ll continue on this path of self-discovery. I honestly have enjoyed everything I went through in 2008, no matter how ridiculous the situations had gotten. I’ll continue to explore the possibilities in front of me. Maybe I’ll date someone normal who doesn’t plan on leaving me just yet, who isn’t holding a ticking-time bomb at the end of the tunnel. I know some people are seeing me change and they might not necessarily like it. They’re used to the old me — the girl who wasn’t so vocal about everything, who kept her opinions to herself, who was still meek and unsure of what she wanted to become. But, if it’s any reassurance, she’s still there. Just a little more confident at times, a little more daring, a little more willing to raise the stakes and risk what’s on the table. Yeah, I might come out dead broke in the end, but I also might double up. And if anything, it’ll sure make for a helluva blog, right?

Happy New Year’s everyone. I hope your journey in the next 365 days (or whatever time-keeping agenda you use) is one of success and hopeful ventures. Good luck and God bless.