Mental Wonderland

Tuesday the 14th.

Tue, 14 Feb 2012 17:02:30 -0500

I love your love for the day of love, but for the love and sake of the notion of love, stop commercializing love, Love.

Happy Valentine’s Day , the most pointless holiday on the calender besides groundhog’s day.

p.s. I’m not a cynic, just not a fan xo

Here’s a soundtrack for the essay you might below. It...

Fri, 16 Dec 2011 03:11:40 -0500

Here’s a soundtrack for the essay you might below. It might help you understand it better, it was what I was listening too when I was creating it. But if not, it’s at least expanding your appreciation for Mac

Such a Magical Time.

Fri, 16 Dec 2011 03:08:00 -0500

No, I’m not talking about the upcoming holidays, although they are pretty magical too- holidays are the only time I really feel genuinely happy, no matter what is happening in my awkward life.

I’m talking about that time at night, you know- where you want to be asleep, so very badly, and you can’t reach the REM. That time of night when you read something, listen to your Ipod, wander around aimlessly and start flicking lights on and off. You could be like me, and when you can’t sleep you try to make yourself tired with exercise (I prefer dancing; cardio with some sass). But inevitably you know what’s coming, and you know what you’re avoiding. That time of night where you begin to think.

Thinking, it truly is a gift of God (or of highly evolved genetics through science, whatever you believe). But any time after 1 a.m., thinking becomes my own personal purgatory where I go through my past. It doesn’t matter where I start in thought, it always leads back to my bad habit of dwelling.

Tonight, for example. After reading half a novel, hunting for my Ipod with no luck(curse you Steve Jobs for making it so much easier to be a music addict these days!), turning my fan off, then back on, then back off, then back on and grabbing a jacket, waking my dog up for no apparent reason other than to annoy it by trying to force it to play ball at 2 a.m., and trying to memorize the lyrics to johnny cash’s “I’ve been everywhere”… I just gave up and gave in.

I started thinking about what I witnessed at family dinner. Started with a laugh, because what I witnessed was a spectacle, that’s for sure. Here I am, enjoying a nice Spanish meal with my parents in a classy establishment downtown, and I see a fat, loud, old, drunk woman dancing in the middle of a restaurant. Good Lord, that is the last thing I want to become- age is inevitable, and so is loud for me apparently, and I like a drink now and again… but fat and desperate for attention? No. I draw the line.

And that’s where the downward spiral began.

…Oh Lord, I have really put on some weight this semester,like that woman. Not as much, but a start, and lost my tan.Well, it’s not like it’s completely my fault… I had my heart ripped out savagely at the beginning of it. I bet he doesn’t even care, though I don’t blame him, I did scare him. And to be fair he was just a rebound from a rebound from a rebound from my ex. What would I be like had I not broken up with my ex? What would I be like had I been more extroverted in high school? Had I joined in on soccer a few years earlier? had I not been in advanced classes in middle school? What if my second best friend hadn’t stolen the kid I had a crush on in elementary school? What if my real best friend hadn’t moved away when I was little? …

If my thoughts continued in this process, I would legitimately think myself back into the womb I’m pretty sure. But don’t worry, my little spastic, spacy brain has built its own self defense system to stop that time warp!

ENGAGING- SECOND GENERATION OF THOUGHTS.

…You know this would all be easier if I was just filthy rich. Rich people are always prettier, even if they are dumber, cause they have the money to blow to fix all their problems. betches. Or if I was just born in another generation? what if I had been born in the 50s? I’d be married by now, probably with 1000 children. well hopefully not that many, I’m not a child cannon. But I’d still be wearing these sick nasty rayban glasses. and a poodle skirt, hell yeah. what if I was born in another country? Not Iraq, mmm mmm, negative. No way am I wearing a burka in 10000 degree weather- stone me to death, it’s not worth it. Maybe Canada, but they’re kindof pansies.AUSTRALIA. definitely Australia. EW AND what if I had been born a boy? that’s disgusting, I don’t want my genitals flailing around on the outside of my body, always thinking about banging, well, everything. What would it be like though? No idea, but if I had a boy name no way would I accept the name my dad always claims. Ferdinand. pfft. Ferdie? really dad?…

In the period of 30 minutes, I hated on myself from now back to the age of five, and also lived out the life of an airhead heiress, a 1950s housewife with too many children, a foreigner, and a boy named Ferdinand. 99 problems and my mind is one.

So now that I’m almost absolutely sure that you must think I’m completely insane from a casual cruise down my head highway, I want you to think about what you think about when you can’t sleep.
&& I hope, mostly for my amusement but a little for your sake, that it’s just as crazy, at least some of the time, cause they lead to conclusions like these:

1) I’m not crazy, although I do have an overactive imagination (but I know someday that’ll help me in the bedroom. you’re welcome future husband XO)

2) I don’t want to be an heiress, or a foreigner, or a boy named ferdie, or an oppressed 50’s housewife with a litter.

3)I don’t want to change the fact I got my heart broken this year, or that I broke his heart last February, or that I was reserved in high-school, or that I was fat of in middle-school, or that my first crush was stolen, or that my best friend moved away. When I first look at that it looks really depressing, maybe I should be upset. But if none of that happened, I wouldn’t be so driven, and extroverted, or caring yet sassy. I wouldn’t have my hipster girl swag mixed with my firecracker loudmouth that gets me in trouble. I wouldn’t have my wonderful parents, and a sister that I admire, and friends that I truly count on today. And quite frankly, I wouldn’t give any of that up knowingly.

2:26 A.M. is a beautiful time, and now that I’ve made peace with tonight’s magic hour, it’s time to sleep.

P.S. You thought this was going to be some big epiphany didn’t you? I go through this every night I can’t sleep. Yeah, now I KNOW you think I’m crazy. But don’t worry, it’s different thoughts every time. Sometimes I’m an oppressed 20’s wife. Seriously though, the thoughts are always different. As Ferdinand would say-
“Get off my dick.”

accurate.

Mon, 12 Dec 2011 23:12:55 -0500

accurate.

So. Well. Hmm.

Sun, 11 Dec 2011 22:18:00 -0500

I really messed up lately and I’ve lost my idea of being an individual. So I sat down and thought, okay, it’s time to just be myself again for a while, get back to the basics.Then, as I was thinking that, I realized I’m not exactly sure what that is anymore. A few years ago, you wouldn’t have caught me dead with a drink in my hand or up past 11. Now I’m stumbling in drunk at 3 a.m. wondering what happened to my night and what exactly his name was again.
I’m the country princess, and stuck in the 30s, and I want to build street cred. I want to be married by the age of 27 and single until I’m a spinster. I want two little boys, or maybe two little girls, or a boy and a girl, or no children, just dogs. Or no dogs, just me. I want to see the world and stay in the comfort of what I know ‘til I’m old and grey.
I want to live in New York City in a loft and in the woods of Alabama with no one in sight, on the beaches of Mexico and in the snow of Alaska.
I want to be in perfect shape, and not care if I gain 15 pounds. I love it when its sunny, and adore the rain. I still feel like a child and yet I want to be treated like a respectable adult.
Career? You mean I’m being educated to go to work? Okay, surely I know this one. I want my own talk show. And by that I mean I want to be a music producer. No, I actually meant an Advertising creative. but that actually means I’ll be a politician. But by politician I mean own my own bakery. and by own my own bakery I mean be a lawyer. Lawyer means Indian chief? Indian chief of the free world fools. President of my children as a stay at home mom. homeless on the streets at this point with the amount of direction I seem to have here.

I’m almost two decades old now, and have absolutely no idea who the hell I am.
So for the next question that I need an answer to, I turned to the only fool-proof guide any sane and respectable being would turn to in their time of crisis;
The Magic 8-Ball.

Magic 8-ball, will I find some direction? Ask again later.

…

Damn toy is about as decisive as I am, I respect that.

Mac, I love you.

Thu, 28 Jul 2011 23:06:37 -0400

Mac, I love you.

If I had a feather for everytime I thought this I’d be...

Thu, 28 Jul 2011 23:04:49 -0400

If I had a feather for everytime I thought this I’d be this parrot.

music that feeds the soul

Wed, 06 Jul 2011 00:55:45 -0400

music that feeds the soul

mad parenting skills.

Tue, 05 Jul 2011 19:29:40 -0400

mad parenting skills.

Disenchanted and Uninspired.

Tue, 05 Jul 2011 18:50:45 -0400

I need a muse, or a partner in crime; not enough spontaneity in my life lately.

Mr. Cud, I love you.

Tue, 05 Jul 2011 18:48:39 -0400

Mr. Cud, I love you.

"Dear Sex Educators- Abstinence is only 99.99% effective. Sincerely, the Virgin Mary."

Fri, 01 Jul 2011 14:46:31 -0400

“Dear Sex Educators-
Abstinence is only 99.99% effective.
Sincerely, the Virgin Mary.”

Princesses and Pirates

Fri, 01 Jul 2011 14:38:00 -0400

otherwise known is Greek life.

PRINCESSES:
Sometimes I use “princesses” in different ways. Like the girls that walk around talking about their spray-tans and tiffany’s necklaces and how guys are only attractive when they’re driving around in their daddys’ audis and all dress the same (like total tools if you ask me, so don’t ask me). Get over yourselves, princesses.

But normally when I use the term I mean it in a nice way. Every girl should be treated like she’s royalty greek life or not; not that I’m saying spend tons on her. No. Wrong. That’s stupid, don’t spend anything on me I’m serious. Every girl should be treated like royalty in the sense that you respect her, even if you’re not attracted to her, or better yet- even if you are.

Exhibit A: “Colin”- You may have thought you were being nice to me when you were being “honest” with me when you told me : “Yes. You’re really weird. Most guys don’t like that. But I can teach you how to be normal.” But you weren’t respecting my personality, I like to think I’m more unique then I am weird.
p.s. my mental response despite the fact we’re still friends and I don’t hate you: “You’re a dick. Most girls don’t like that. No one can teach you otherwise, sorry.”

Exhibit B: “Liam” - I have no idea what you were thinking when you word vomited: “I mean, you guys aren’t top tier sorority or anything, but I like slumming with you guys cause like you’re more fun normally.” Dear Liam, you’re an asshole. I know I’m not in a top tier sorority. But in my mind there’s not tiers, there’s just different types of princesses. Sorry I’m not your type, not that I ever wanted to be cause I was never attracted to you, and good luck finding anyone who is with that attitude.

Exhibit C: “Major” - as in you’re a major freak. When I say I’m not going to sleep with you and that I’m a good girl with traditional values, it wasn’t a kidding moment. So when you kiss me and I say no, stop. no means no. Not try again so I say no again. Not force yourself on me so I get mad and scream no again. Not try to hold me down (you drunk rapist) so I viciously injure your wrist and you freak out like a big baby and I storm out. I hope you enjoyed explaining to your brothers why your wrist was swollen for the next week. sorry ‘bout it, dear.

Expectations as a Princess:

1) You get to know me if you really are interested in me

2) Typical chivalrous behavior (doors held, car door opened, jacket offered if I’m cold [even though I won’t take it from you ‘cause lets face it, its my fault for dressing inappropriately], etc.)

3) A date actually being acknowledged as a date, not some awkward sequence of events you strung together to confuse me so when I ask if it’s a date you say “I don’t want a girlfriend.” I didn’t ask for a ring, calm down.

4) Keep your dirty thoughts to yourself.

5) Be yourself, stop fronting. And if the whole world of men actually is all about sperry’s/weightlifting/megan fox’s body/how many shots you can take/flexing/grinding/ignoring me when I respond to what you said or what you call a “conversation”/brotime/backwards hats/how rich you are
well then I’ll gladly except my role in life as the single crazy lady.

…not too much to ask right?

PIRATES:

why are the Frat Men pirates and not princes?

1) Their rooms in their houses are dingy dark and creepy, how I’d imagine all of pirate life to be
2) Yargh, they’re always after booty and the treasure buried in the princesses’ jeans.
3)They like to drink. like ALOT.rum and coke for the win?
4)Their actions aren’t typically that enchanting (see above rude behaviors)
5)sperry’s= boat shoes. You need to be on a boat to need boat shoes that bad.
6) I’ve met some that like to pillage. No joke they just take stuff that isn’t theirs.
7) They’re romantic nomads, too rough to just settle down (in their minds)
8) Girls are always attracted to the bad boys, doesn’t it seem that way?
9)This is my extended comparison, not yours.

All frat men aren’t bad, just some of their egos are.
And although all boys have the potential to be jerks ( just like all girls have the potential to be horrible bitches), it seems a large amount of them really have congregated under the symbols of alpha, beta, gamma, delta, epsilon, zeta, eta, theta, iota, kappa, lamda, mu ,nu, xi, omicron, pi, rho, sigma, tau, upsilon, phi,chi, psi, and omega.

&& I’m looking for a prince, not a pirate- so hello introverts, comedians, total nerds, baseball players, artists, thinkers, hidden romantics and motivated movers of the non-greek variety, please don’t judge me for joining the symbol wearing princesses. Or if you are greek, show me who you really are, not what letters you’re wearing today

GREEK LIFE:

doesn’t matter in the long run. I’m glad I joined because its a fast way to meet a lot of people at once, which makes me happy. I’ve made some friends and learned some life lessons. But after four years of college, it won’t matter what organization I was part of, and has the potential to work against me for future career paths. Just as annoyed as it makes me that people in greek life act like people who aren’t are worthless, it annoys me that people in greek life get judged for being in it.

“We have one rule here. what is it? thatssss right. E.L.E.- everybody love everybody.” - will ferrell is golden.

happy.

Thu, 30 Jun 2011 22:24:15 -0400

happy.

The Universe is an Ocean.

Thu, 30 Jun 2011 21:38:01 -0400

A serious component in what I believe spiritually/religiously. Maybe I watch too much shark week or something, but I’ve believed that since I was really young.
&& if you’re curious about what I believe in or why I believe in it? Just ask me when you have the time. I’ll tell you. plus whatever you believe is right, I’m not challenging you.

But for the love of God and the metaphorical natatory expansions of energy in the universe- STOP handing me flyers, you downtown jesus-terrorists, that say I’m going to hell unless I read the rest of this flyer you just handed me and go to your church for the facts. As if Jesus actually wanted you to cut down the Rainforest (which probably holds the cure for cancer and secret doors to Narnia) to make paper that tell me he saved me for nothing. So what you’re saying is Jesus thinks I’m a POS? solid, his sass really did just make me respect him more, no joke.

but in all honesty, those flyers inspire a fear in me similar to chain-emails that tell me a clown (me from a past life) will come out from under my bed and stab me at two AM or that I wont find another boyfriend for another 17 years if I dont wish on twelve stars twenty times and send it to fifteen of my closest friends; a fear, SO GREAT, that is causes me to….

put them in the trash.

p.s. haven’t seen the clown yet, but I’m really starting to believe the boyfriend one was real .

"‘You only live once, but if you do it right, once is enough. "

Thu, 30 Jun 2011 20:05:21 -0400

““‘You only live once, but if you do it right, once is enough. “”

- Mae West.

Why can’t I ever sleep. Why doesn’t anyone else have...

Thu, 30 Jun 2011 02:35:01 -0400

Why can’t I ever sleep. Why doesn’t anyone else have this problem.

Just in case we all forgot how to use a toilet.

Thu, 30 Jun 2011 01:33:55 -0400

Just in case we all forgot how to use a toilet.

Past Lives

Thu, 30 Jun 2011 01:17:00 -0400

6. A Decepticon.

5. That annoying ray of sunshine, the one that particularly wakes you up in the morning no matter how tired you are, how hard you close your eyes, how much you try to block out your window with curtains and your face with covers. It’s climbin’ in yo’ window, its wakin’ yo people up. OHH yeah, its there. I was there.

4. Rosa Parks. I don’t like sitting in the back of the bus either. It’s too far of a walk to the front door, I absolutely agree with her on that.

3. The Chinese woman that discovered cinnamon. My reasoning behind this one:
i) I cannot get enough cinnamon, I bet she couldn’t either
ii) Chinese people discover everything cool. FACT.
iii) a woman had to have discovered it because the woman’s job is to make everything delicious in the kitchen, lolzasaurus!

2. A lolzasaurus.

1. A circus clown. I convince myself every time I have bad luck, in any situation, its because I picked a career in my past life that creeps everybody out.

The Final Straw.

Wed, 29 Jun 2011 13:51:00 -0400

So I didn’t just decide to start blogging, for the most part I like to keep my life to myself. Everyone has their own problems, so I don’t feel like throwing my problems on top of theirs is really helping anyone out. But this was my breaking point:

I’m back home for the summer from college. I intentionally came back home for the summer because I was felt my life has become unsuitably dramatic, I’m too caught up in my own problems and I need a break from all this drama (I’ll cycle back around to that drama in a few posts, you’ll probably get a kick from it). I come home, get a part time job working for, in lack of a better term, the biggest douche of a boss I’ve ever had, and just decide to work on myself. Keeping to myself, I find I don’t cause drama. But that never lasts for long because I’m a very social person and myself+ ANYONE ELSE IN THE WORLD = drama will eventually follow (apparently). I get invited to a beach day with one of my old friends from high school, lets call him Jarred, and he brings along a new friend I have never met before, which I will also rename Jack. When I saw Jack, I just knew things wouldn’t be good for me. Immediate attraction always turns out bad for me. But I ignored it and let myself get caught up in it really. No big deal, its not like I’m going to see him again, I can have fun and just enjoy the beach today right? wrong. because the next thing I know I’m spending every waking moment with Jack and Jarred practically. It’s fun, guy best friends are always better than girl best friends because they’re not catty. FACT. I decided to let my crush on Jack to just grow into what its going to grow into, since now I’m spending every moment with him.

Eventually Jack starts asking me to do stuff away from Jarred. Movie dates, dinner, lunch, beach. You name it. I’m excited ‘cause the more I hang out with Jack, the more I realize he’s perfect for me. But somehow Jarred always finds a way to ruin it. Ways of finding out what we’re doing, showing up, with friends, or just by himself, to ruin my life. I’m really starting to resent him, which is sad because we were pretty good friends. I’m also concerned he has a crush on me, or something awkward; I always end up in those triangles of I like someone their friend likes me and the person I like is like uh whaaaaaaa? Anyway, me and Jack finally have a day to ourselves. I’m excited, everything is all flirty and datelike. he tells me he feels really comfortable with me (red flag) and gives me a hug (redflag.), talks to me about his past problems with girls, and a boy (REDFLAG) and then he drops the bomb on me:

Jarred is gay and using me as a cover up while he’s been hitting on Jack. and Jack is straight, he thinks, likes me but is starting to like Jarred.
…

uhhh, what? 1) you’re not straight then, Jack. 2) I realize I am typically attracted to gay men. which is a break-though for me, because now I realize a source of my unhappiness with my relationships. Wanting something you really, honest to God cannot have.

I love the Gays (they deserve capital letters) obviously, because they are the most real people you meet. They are not afraid to be themselves, which is flamboyant and colorful. They have the best sense of style and even better advice because they’ve had to take crap from everybody. I believe in gay rights, love is love no matter where you find it. but I’m 100% straight. The thought of being anything besides a sister to another woman makes me physically ill. and I cant really be attracted to someone when I realize my competition isn’t only from my own team, it makes me paranoid! and not only does jarred like jack, but I have to hear about every sexual moment between them from both of them because I’m their friend and “give the best advice on everything.” Awkwardddd.

What I want to know is when it stopped being boy meets girl. or boy meets boy even? Now its become a complicated mess: boy meets girl who meets boy who then boy meets boy who met girl but likes boy and boy likes girl but isn’t sure if he likes boy too. AND WHY DOES EVERYTHING HAVE TO BE SO SEXUAL-Let’s take it back to simple days people. Take it slow. Why don’t you try to learn their first name before trying to hop into bed with them. stop staring at their boobs (or in Jarred’s case his crotch) and actually get to know them. Let’s get away from Lil Jon’s “aww skeet skeet mother f*cka mother f*cka” and back to the Beatles “I want to hold your hand.”

So I’m over dating for a while, that’s for sure. maybe I’m not attracted to gay men, maybe I’m the one actually turning them. but this was the final straw, I needed to open my mind.

oh and Jack, if you do happen to stumble across this and read it? I realize I’m the idiot here, and I have no right to sound mad at you. I should’ve realized you were playing for my team the moment you looked at my shirt color and said “coral looks good on me too.”