Just One of the Guys

St. Patrick's Day!  A decently appropriate time to bring up this post.  It's something I've thought about with great frequency and something that I still can't determine my feelings towards.  I am a bro.

But not like, polo shirt wearing, popped collar, hat turned to the side kind of bro.  I'm a "let's just have some beers, guys" kind of bro.  The "I wear boxers and a sports bra to sleep" type of bro.  The "yeah, of course you can joke around with me, but expect it right back at you" bro.  The, "clean-smelling t-shirt?  Done." bro.  And I love that; I love being relaxed and comfortable and just chilling out with some close friends over a few beers.

But is that enough?

Future Plans

BLARGH I'm sorry it's been a week.  The past seven days have been extremely hectic, but I've been itching to just write again.  So now that I finally have the chance, let's get to it!

I went out to lunch with Zero and GoldenEye yesterday--we have a little tradition of grabbing some pizza between classes on Wednesdays.  The week before, I was unable to go with them so I had asked about what it was I'd missed.  Then, they exploded.

They explained their plan.  They have a plan that maps out the entire rest of their lives--they're to go into business together after they attend the same graduate school, formulating their mega-corporation the whole time while they are near and freshly educated.  Their corporation will do "everything.  Literally, everything."  It will have thousands of employees and hundreds of branches; it will be the biggest thing to hit America.  And every Wednesday, they would take all their interns out to lunch for pizza and discuss business, the future, politics, economics, etc.  They were formulating traditions for their futures, mapping out their lives, placing themselves years away with a crystal clear image.  It was wishful thinking and high hoping, but they knew exactly what they wanted and they were ready to go get it.

It hit me right then.  This is life, and it's coming at me way faster than I want to accept.  I don't have that clear picture, I don't have a direct path I intend to take.  I have no post-graduate plans.  The extent of my life is in school, and that's all I've got.  And I can't tell if I love that or hate that!  LIFE is so close... this is it.  This is the final stretch.  Everything is the final stretch... and there's never any stopping and going back.  Ever.  Life carries on.  It can end in an instant, it can last forever.  It can end up the exact opposite of how you always imagined, it can go exactly how you want it to.  It can take a million unpredicted turns, it can be mapped out any which way in the garden of forking paths.  But Life is facing me head on.  Whether I'm curled up in a ball or running at full-speed, Life is straight ahead.  Life is staring me down.

It's kind of terrifying.  It's kind of exhilarating, too.

This is a little spacey and a little out there--it doesn't really make logical sense.  It's just a stream of consciousness because I have a lot of difficulty channeling these thoughts and feelings.  So, I'm sorry about that.  But hey, it's what's on my mind!

"Contemplate" by TheSophiaPark (http://thesophiapark.deviantart.com/)

Rambling,
The A.S.S.

Dance it Out!

I'm in a bit of a phase.  Be it that I've had a good day, I don't have time to run to the gym, I'm too stressed and need an outlet, or I just need to stop studying and take a break to refresh my mind, I've been dancing a lot this week.  I'll blast Jet's "Are You Gonna Be My Girl?" or the Kanye's "Monster," maybe some Beyonce, the classic "You Make My Dreams" by Hall and Oates or Cee-Lo's "Fuck You" and just rock out.  Like, ROCK out.  And it's so liberating!  It's SUCH a good feeling and I highly, highly recommend doing so.  I know I'm not unique in this idea, I know millions of people do this, but I honestly can't explain how good it feels to just dance it out.  In the rare chance that you really want to do it right now, do it!  Maybe not at work, but as soon as you get home.  Let it out.  There's plentyyyyy of good music to rock out to--just pick your favorite and go at it.

"Rock out" by Citruspers (http://citruspers.deviantart.com/gallery/?offset=120#/d2jbkf4)

ROCK OUT,
The A.S.S.

Thanksgiving 2010

It was a quiet Thanksgiving.  We slept in, had some bagels and coffee, flipped through the channels, and never changed out of our sweatpants.  No extended family came, we never left the house, we didn't cook laboriously for endless hours, we kept it much more low-key than usual this time around.  And I was okay with it.  An hour or so after dinner, we put on a movie and tossed in some popcorn--we were feeling adventurous.

I adore Thanksgiving.  I think it is a beautiful holiday, including of everyone (when looking past the genocide aspect and focusing solely on the notion of being thankful), and a time that truly calls for some inflection.

A Spectrum-Spanning Mental Concoction

I'm in the weirdest mood imaginable.  There literally is no word to describe it--it's the biggest, oddest amalgamation of emotions, a concoction that veritably spans the spectrum.  I don't know what I'm feeling and I don't know how to handle it.  How to react to it.  My mind is literally so jumbled that I can't think.  I really can't.

There's denial, despair, rage, ecstatic elation, love, romance, hope, promise, inspiration, excitement, anxiety, anticipation, frustration, confusion, unrest, envy, sorrow, mourning, comfort, safety, cliffhangers, relaxation, ACK!  All swirling and tumbling around my mind--what the hell am I supposed to call that?  What kind of state is this!

Well, it sucks pretty badly.  I won't lie.  I wish I could tell you all the events that transpired and instigated these emotions, but they're incredibly specific and I rely on this anonymity so much as I write.  So I'm telling you how I'm feeling, even though I can't.

So if you see a girl whose face is saying nothing at all--or perhaps everything at once--it might just be me.



...what am I?
The A.S.S.

Just the Genetic Me

Several times within the past week, I have gone out with no makeup on.  I didn't have any blaring pimples, the runs were nothing of significance, and I was just too lazy to put on the few dabs of makeup I usually do.  And every one of those times this past week, I've either gotten compliments on the street I've never heard before--such as "DAMN girl, you sexy as FUCK"--or close friends like Volcano and Lavender asking "what's different today" or why I "looked so good."  And remember, the boys never compliment me.

Literally, all I wear on a normal day is mascara and cover-up where I have zits.  If I feel like jazzing it up a bit, I might put on some eye shadow or eyeliner as well.  No foundation, bronzer, blush, lipstick, etc.  Mascara.  Yet apparently, its absence makes me more attractive.  Who knew!

Moral of the story?  No matter how little you may do to impress the world, you're still doing something to impress.  You're not being entirely you.  Less is more and you may be more beautiful when you're simply the raw, bare you that your genetics coded for.  Now, that being said, I'm not going to never wear mascara again.  I like it, I like how it makes my eyes look.  And I certainly am still going to dab a little cover-up when I breakout, because I don't like people looking at my acne.  But if I don't feel like it one day or I'm not worried about impressing Drifter or someone, I probably won't wear anything anymore.  And I, my purely genetic self, just might be confident doing so.

Heidi Klum--SO beautiful!

Makeup-less and sweatpants-ed,
The A.S.S.

He makes me want to burst. Seriously.

I don't want to be alone any more.

I've been fine for the past few months after my last big rejection, and I decided, "Fuck it. I'm single and I can't change that right now."  And somehow, that worked and I didn't care about being single.  It was just what I was and that's how my life was.  No big deal either way.  But now, now that there is a prospect and there has been even the slightest form of reciprocation, I'm getting butterflies all the time.

I think about Drifter more than I should--we still barely know each other.  But we've had a few dates now and every time, the hours just fly by as we talk and tell stories and just laugh with each other.  Believe me, I know how corny and ridiculous I sound when I say this, but I honestly and truly feel that he and I have a deeper connection I've never formed with someone so quickly.  It was there as soon as I met him.  Right from the start, we understood each other.  And it took a lot of finagling and walking on eggshells to get the ball rolling, but it is now and I can't believe how I'm feeling.

I don't think I felt this way even when my first boyfriend kissed me for the first time!  He makes me smile constantly and I'm so incredibly comfortable with him--I tell him stories I would never tell a stranger and he reciprocates.  We're moving slowly, but there are definite steps being taken and my heart is flying.

I was fine being alone.  I was content.  I walked down the streets, singing the music in my headphones, and smiling for no reason.  Things were working.  But now there's this wrench in the situation--I smile wider, I play my music louder, I sing more strongly, and I dance.  I was fine being alone, but not anymore.  I just want to be with him.  I want to hear another story from him, I want to order him another cup of coffee, I want to hold his hands and turn them over as I trace the lines in them, study the way he sits in his own skin, laugh at his ridiculous stories, show him that scar on my shoulder, lose myself in his eyes, and I want to melt into his smile.  Even as winter approaches and the sun disappears into the haze, there's this new part of me that's shining so brightly I want to burst.

Yeah, he literally makes me want to burst with joy.  I won't say I'm in love, but I think this just might be the precursor to it.

Taken from http://porcelainteacup.deviantart.com/#/d2xkc2b

Dancing on clouds,
The Amplified Shadowed Side.

The See-Saw Effect

BLOODY HELL.

It's starting.  My life was going SO well for such a long run that I was thinking I was finally doing everything right.  But now, as per usual, the universe has turned and bad luck is following me everywhere.  I had a wonderful summer and the beginning of school was amazing.  Everything was great and grand and I felt just generally awesome about life.

But the shit started happening again.  It began with me losing my license on the subway when I brought it as a precaution to avoid problems.  Then, I poured expired milk on my bowl of cereal. Then, I go through a week of insomnia.  Then, something I've been waiting to buy myself is FINALLY restocked and as soon as I FINALLY get it, it breaks on the walk home.  Then, when out at a lovely dinner, I get this horrible headache that just will NOT go away and keeps getting worse and worse until my vision is blurring, I lose all appetite, become terribly lethargic and apathetic, and my entire body starts shaking.  Then, I lose my room key in class.  Then, I get violently ill for a few hours at home.  Then, I completely misread my midterm assignment and have to restart it all over again.  ACK!

It's what I can only think of calling the see-saw effect.  Life seems to go in these cycles for me--a bout of good and a bout of bad.  What's weird, however, is that the magnitude is generally always equal.  So, since I've been having such a good, decent time and lifestyle over the past few months, I suppose the universe decided that my time was over and I needed to be brought back down.  My good side of the see-saw had peaked and I needed to swing low, bringing the bad side up.  And quickly.

I just hope that the rapidity of the bad things--though each small but sharp pangs--will equate to the lengthiness of my decent months, and this down swing will lighten up soon.  I'm okay with an alright life.  I just hate this part right here where everything seems to suck ass.

Taken from http://jerzeykat.deviantart.com/gallery/#/d4dcp7

Waiting for my upswing,
The A.S.S.

Gratuitous Boy Talk

Time to talk about boys!  As much as I hate to dump this out on a blog, I promised to do just that.  And what blog of a college girl would be complete without boy talk?

So!  There are three I'd like to tell you all about.  One of them you already know!  You remember Peachy Keen?  Cool.

Let's begin, yes?  We'll start from what we know.

And NOW It's Rejection.

The weekend is over, so NOW it's rejection.  Here's the story:

I met a guy at a party a few weeks ago.  I thought we had really hit it off, talking extensively, enthusiastically, and understandingly.  I felt this deeper connection from the get-go, which basically never happens to me.  I couldn't help it, but there was this great sense that he actually understood me.  And few people understand me--hell, I barely understand me.  So when we hit it off so well, I was intrigued.

I wanted to talk for hours, but he had to leave.  So I waited a few days and my friend who had introduced us encouraged me to keep in touch with the guy.  My friend insisted he was one of the greatest guys he knew and I should absolutely go for it.  So, with the guidance of my friend, I facebooked him and waited a few more days to send a message.  The message expressed my interest but left it an open-ended question--I gave him my number and told him to contact me anytime.  The ball was in his court.  And then came the waiting game.

I sent it exactly a week ago.  I figured maybe he would be quick to send a response with few details but a clearly illustrated interest--nothing.  My guy friends said to wait it out over the weekend, because that's when you would actually do something, if anything.  So I waited.  I waited and avoided using the term.  Well, it's Monday now.  And not a single word from him.  The weekend is over, so now it's rejection.

And cue the standard emotional struggle!  Do I pursue further, do I try to just be friends?  Is he a douchebag for not even saying a damn word to me, do I just push him from my mind and move on?  Oh, the politics of flirtation.  I really just don't know how to play the game at all.  Another plunge, another rejection.

Put it on my tab.

http://silvermercury.deviantart.com/gallery/#/d10iyru

Alone once again,
The A.S.S.

Summer of New Love

Well, hello there! Fancy seeing you here! What has it been, half a year? Well, not quite. But, I'M BACK.

And I'm sorry that it took me so long to do so. The past few months have been a whirlwind or work, emotion, time, friends, family, everything. It all raced by and I'm still struggling to keep up with Father Time as he races onward. Who knew such an old dude could run so fast!

But, I know no one cares about this blog, so I won't dwell on apologies. I'll just pick it back up where I left off--sort of.

So where were we? Ah, yes, springtime in New York. Well, with lovely springtime comes not-so-lovely finals. So that was a black hole that I couldn't escape. And then came summer. And soon, I was completely enveloped with the fact that I ACTUALLY had FREE time to do nothing and NO responsibilities, and I was enamored. It had been so long! So I literally laid around ALL day, EVERY day, just enjoying the calmness of nothingness. But you can just call me a lazy shit. That works too.

And next? Well, what happened next changed my life irrevocably.

Like a Spring Phoenix

One day not too long ago, I stepped outside. I was shocked by what I saw.

Whistle Wonders

As I walk down the street, I'm frustrated and angry and upset and generally in a bad mood. Things are pretty shitty so I'm walking it out, storming down the street. My muscles are tensed up; if you'd said anything to me, I would've walked right by. I was NOT a happy camper.

Then I heard whistling. It wasn't a particularly nice day out, and Hall & Oates wasn't playing over loudspeakers somewhere, so I assumed that people wouldn't automatically be happy and smiling and whistling. But someone was. Who was happily whistling?! I needed to know who and why.

Good Wine, Great Friends, and a Kitchen Table

I've been gone for awhile, I'm sorry. A LOT of stuff came up out of nowhere, basically, and my life got flipped upside down for a few weeks there. I am now coming out of my spring break and hopefully, things will get back to normal. But t
hat's why I've been hiatus. Shit hit the fan; I didn't take it too well. Maybe I'll write about that stuff at some point in the future, but no guarantees.

Let's get back to business, shall we?

So, my mother decided to host a birthday party for her friend. Although her crowd's idea of a birthday party has included strippers in the past, the approach tonight was more subtle. Just a quiet night in with a few friends from the neighborhood, home cooked foods, a cake, and a lot of wine. No men, just the ladies. Since I'm home for break, my mother invited me to take part, apparently feeling guilty to not be spending time with me. Despite the caddy drama that ensued after the hanger-on decided to bring her 6-year-old child along with her, the evening was very lovely. Lots of laughter, good food, good conversation, stories and jokes were flying. Once the cake came out, the birthday girl raised her glass and made a toast so moving, it brought tears to my eyes.

Her back-story, she is finally conquering breast cancer. After fighting it for years, she is clear and about to have her port removed. She is turning 51 this year, but due to the cancer, she did not want to celebrate her 50th last year. So not only was this party a "Yay, you're 50 (belated)" party, but a "You beat cancer and we couldn't be happier" party.

Obviously, I don't remember the speech verbatim, but I'll do my best to put it back in her words.

"I just want to thank you all so much for this evening. After my whole ordeal, I've learned just how incredibly lucky I am. I've re-evaluated so much in my life and have realized that there is very little that is genuinely important to me. Besides my family, of course, the only other thing that truly matters is my friends. You girls. I can't say I would have made it without you all. I cannot stress enough how much you all mean to me and how much of a difference a few good friends can make in someone's life. So thank you all, thank you, thank you endlessly. For this party, for being there for me, for supporting me through this all, for just being my friends. I love you all, truly."

Everyone around the table nodded in agreement and I knew the sentiment was mutual.

Her speech was beautiful, impromptu, and so genuine that of course I felt it and believed it. And everyone has those few close friends they can go to for anything. But her speech got me thinking--who would these people be in my case? Do I even have these friends? Do I have anyone who truly cares about me the way this room cares for this woman? And honestly, I'm not entirely sure that I do.

When I thought about it, I can only think of two friends who would come if I called, but that's about it. Maybe three, but I'm not sure. I'm so used to being the third wheel in groups, being the one that doesn't really make a difference, that I guess I stopped trying and stopped caring. I've realized through the past few years that my groups of friends never really cared about me. If they made plans, I was never personally invited. I'd only be invited if I contacted the host myself or if one random person happened to remember me. Generally though, I had to ask to be included in anything. I was never missed. My absence was not an issue, my presence was not a pleasure--I was just a whatever. And this trend has continued into college. I thought for sure things would change once I moved away from home and was immersed in a new environment, but things are the exact same. While Malibu and Ritz go NUTS for each other and freak out when they're separated, they could care less whether I'm with them or away from them. My roommate never comes into our room to just sit and chill and talk, but always goes to Ritz's, where Malibu will always be too. They sit there for hours and I just wait to see if maybe they call for me or anything. And they just never do. There are a million examples I could share, but I don't want to dive into too much detail.

Have I not made an impact on the lives of my friends? Am I just not an interesting, fun enough person? What is it that I'm doing wrong that makes people completely apathetic towards me? I don't know. I don't know why my social life is the way it is and the way it has been for years. I don't know who would be sitting at the table with me forty years from now drinking wine and toasting my cancer survival. Perhaps I'm not meant to know yet and that'll all come with time and settling down somewhere.

It just makes me nervous to see the people around me all so deeply tied into relationships. I am the only single person left in my entire family. Many of my friends are dating and if not, they have that solid, core group of friends. I don't have either. Yes, I have my family, but I can't rely on them for everything. I need to break away and become my own person. It makes me incredibly nervous that I'm truly doing something horribly wrong. Don't get me wrong, I couldn't be happier for the ones in my life that have that security and those relationships. And I hope that my friends view me as one of those people, as someone they would sit at their tables and drink away with because I most certainly would go to the end of the earth and beyond for them if they ever called. I just hope that--when my time comes--I'll have a bottle of red, a bottle of white, and those amazing friends filling my kitchen table.

I'll come when you call,

The A.S.S.

I'm Singing in the Snow

Again, I've been slacking. My apologies once more, things have been pretty busy.


Music makes everything better. Truly. It's an odd phenomenon that happens when metered, rhyming words are paired with a melody. Something inside gets going, gears start churning, and an entire day can be turned around. A new mood can arise. A skip in your step can appear. A smile might sneak its way out. Music inherently possesses an incredible ability to make everything better.

The weather last week was frightful, but my music made it so delightful. Streets were sloshy and wind was howling and snow was pelting my face, coating my clothes and seeping through my jeans. NYC was being blasted by another round of February snow, as 2010 has seen all too much of. I didn't want to take out my mp3 player for fear of water damage, but decided I needed it anyway.

With it firmly tucked into my jacket pocket, my hand holding it securely as an extra safeguard, I stuck my headphones in both ears so as to keep the wind out. Usually, I only wear one bud so I can hear what's happening around me on the streets--because I'm safe like that--but today was different. I turned it on, set it to random shuffle play all, and pressed play. Immediately, as if my player knew, it put on the one song that can ALWAYS make me feel incredible.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2seAJsrtIbQ
Thank goodness I had both buds in. Instantly, I perk up. With the music completely enveloping me, I start dancing to myself, just like in that video (great movie, by the way. Definitely see it.). I'm singing along, twirling down the street, and things are great.

Next song to come up, "A Walk Through Hell" by Say Anything. Again, another song that can make me feel wonderful. And it was pretty applicable to the times, even if it was talking about fire rather than ice. I pushed repeat about three or four times on the way to my next class!

Once I finally let go of Say Anything, song after song of great rhythms, awesome bass beats, and catchy melodies were coming up. And yes, the two examples I gave are poppy, happy songs, but some sadder, sweeter songs came up too in addition to some harder, heavier rock songs. All of it just worked though. Instead of huddling and shielding myself, I was looking up and smiling at the snowflakes. Sometimes, the world is a lot prettier the more you get to look at it.

Once I finally got home and changed into not-wet clothes, I thought about what had just happened. I realized that I would have been completely miserable at that exact moment had it not been for my music. I literally danced the entire way home all because of some random songs. Out of thousands of songs, every one that came up put me in some new mood that made the outside world and outside weather just fade away. The songs seeped into me and I melted into them.

This odd blending of body and soul and mind and music is universal, I feel, when we let it happen. So many times, we seek refuge in our music. We seek solace or comfort. We seek inspiration or motivation. We seek confirmation or explanation. Music is more than just words or a tune. Music has a wonderful power to it that I fall so short of explaining. All I know is that music has helped me through many things in my life, as trivial as snow to as grave as deaths. I've gone to music for fun, for boredom, for love, for inspiration, for comfort, for help, for just about anything you can think of.

We run to it, we work to it, we dance to it. Music is all around us. Music is in us. Music can become us and we can become music. Music can create. Music can change. Music can embrace. Music can heal. Music is otherworldly. So next time you're having a bad day, just put on some Hall & Oates. I promise, you'll feel better.

Singing in the streets,
The A.S.S.

Insomniac Revelations

So lately, I've been having a LOT of trouble trying to fall asleep at night. I don't know why, but it's been pretty bad. I'd lie in bed for hours, struggling to fall asleep, watching movie after movie in an attempt to ease my mind. If I did sleep, I'd sleep for two hours, max, and then wake up for no reason. Then, I couldn't fall back asleep for at least three and a half hours, if at all. Simply terrible.

Why was this happening? I'm eating better, I'm being a much better student, getting all of my work done earlier so I'm not staying up later, doing little exercises while I have large amounts of reading, etc. I've been very pro-active and healthy and I've been very proud of myself. ...But I can't sleep. Lying there in bed for hours every night made me keep thinking, "What a waste of time. I could just get up and go write a paper or something, but I really just want to go to sleep." And it's SO FRUSTRATING.

So I got to thinking, there HAS to be a reason for this. It's not like I was drinking lots of caffeine right before I go to sleep, jacking myself up on sugar or anything. It wasn't anything physical that I was doing. I had finally gotten myself into a healthy routine, so why was it going wrong?

A routine. Maybe that was it. I sort of always lacked a routine--I like doing things in whatever way I so choose, rather than being bound to one strict method. Now that I had a routine, my mind was going crazy at night. I was using my time during the day to do all my work and just going straight to bed. Maybe this was a sign for my to stop the mundane. Stop the routine. Be spontaneous again. To not conform to the routine of the working world just yet. Be fun and do my work while still making time for me.

Do what needs to be done, but never forget about yourself. Yes, the rest of the world is out there and there are expectations for you, but don't dedicate yourself solely to them. You need your own time too. Don't abandon yourself at the price of your happiness and sanity. Even if it's just ten minutes, do it.

Yours,
The A.S.S.