My Messy Mind

Monday morning meetings

Wed, 23 May 2012 23:08:06 -0400

No thanks.

———-
I thought this was a great idea for a blog post yesterday. Just that, nothing else. I forgot to post and it’s irrelevant on Tuesday. I also cannot use it next Monday because… Wait for it…. I quit. I finally did it. The problem is, I’m poor! What the hell am I going to do now??

Blanked out for a minute and just stared. This is happening more and more frequently. The bucket list is somewhat happening, and not even intentionally.

——

I wrote this 4 weeks ago. 4. I guess I got distracted?
In a nutshell, I quit, been broke, got a new job, smiled a little more in my days. Met someone new. Became somewhat smittened. Got annoyed. Realized “someone needs to take a good, hard look in the mirror.” Decided to relax and roll with the punches. I’m pretty laid back, kind of lazy, but i seriously judge too often. It’s never anything major. I will start to just hate someone’s face if they simply agree with the fact that Jennifer Lopez should have a singing career. Easy as that. I don’t know what it is I’m looking for, and realize that I don’t want to be looking for anything at all, I’m just in that stage of my life. I can try and convince myself, but I’m waiting for the connection. The surprisingly intense passion, but the laughing for hours at the most ridiculous things, while a lifelong exchange of witty banter and brief moments of serious, intellectual conversation on non-retarded subjects.

For now though, I’ll continue to be young and moronic. Except Monday through Friday. I’m a real person now.

I usually title at the end of writing. Today? #whatever

Tue, 08 May 2012 01:58:00 -0400

I have nothing more to complain about. The kid has landed a new job. How you like me now? Although, the misery and bitching is what keeps the writing constant, I realize I just complain for the hell of it, along with the entertainment and laughs it brings me. Screw ya’ll. I guess it’s time to laugh at actual, funny things. The self deprecation thing is getting old. I’m growing up. It’s scary as shit, but I’m pretty psyched about it. I’m sitting in a very awkward position.

After leaving my place of employment, I went a little cray- casually decided to dye my hair “ombre”. Welp… I’m a blonde bombshell. Naturally, my next step was to get a tan. Sure, I’ll go to Florida, Dad. My parents live a lavish life of traveling the globe. They seriously effing deserve it though. Retired P.O.’s going hard these days. Since, I’m in between jobs, why the hell would I not join? (Fo’ free.) So, now, I’m in the Fort Lauderdale condo, lonely burnt Puerto Rican, listening to the kid upstairs opening and closing his closet doors. I have yet to meet this mystery manchild, but I know he drives a black Camero, that I’m pretty positive, is in fact the Bat Mobile.

My sunburn has completely amazed me. I am enviously brown-skinned year round in comparison to my Caucasian friends (no offense, guys) yet somehow, even after applying SPF 30 I have grown to be a blotchy red ROCK LOBSTER on my chest, top of my arms, the line right below my tits and along my bathing suit bottom. Ok. Along the line of the bathing suit can be explained by careless application of sunscreen, however, my dark, brown, tan forehead is completely offsetting my rudolph the red nose reindeer (not to mention inflamed and red along the sides of the nose, as if I fell asleep for months with a Biore strip on my face) and still very pale and white cheeks. This looks awesome.

I’ve decided that there seriously are only a small number of people that entertain me. Seriously, and truly, ENTERTAIN me. I will always be kind. I will always be polite. I will always be nice. If I do not find you funny. I do not apologize for that. At all. Is that bitchy? I seriously find a handful of people funny. I may find some of the things others say funny at times. That doesn’t mean I find you funny enough to be around or talk to on a consistent basis. Although, I do find traits in people that amuse me, but I get bored easily. I either sound like a horrible human being, or I make no sense at all. It’s late, I’m tired, and hot. Very hot. Sweating.

I don’t have much to say. Partially because this has become less of a private diary since I have told too many people I blog. I’ll get back into the swing of being awkward and ridiculous, I’m sure.

Tiny dancer’s new blog literally had me in tears laughing #cerealthinking

Photo

Sat, 05 May 2012 00:29:28 -0400

Sent from my iPhone, please excuse typos and/or retardness

Wed, 11 Apr 2012 19:44:00 -0400

“Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer.” …That sounds like a horrible idea. Why do people give awful advice like this? Only mean girls and mobwives would partake in such misery. I understand the concept but my thoughts are why do you have enemies at all? You’re not a superhero nor is this medieval times. (Although, I would be intrigued if invited to a jousting duel.) I just mean, if people don’t like you, cut your losses. If people are inevitably going to screw you over, take them as a lessons learned, just don’t dwell on it. A lot of time and energy can be wasted over petty bullshit. I’m guilty of it myself, like millions of others. Maybe they are the things you have to go through to come out stronger. Which brings me to my second cliche quote of this post, “if I knew then, what I know now.”
I honestly have no rhyme or reason to be writing these things, I’m just letting my thumbs do the talking I guess. My mind goes on tangents and I just let it wander. Maybe some day I’ll have a point to at least one story.

Just..... No

Thu, 05 Apr 2012 09:25:00 -0400

The girl in front of me is reading “Chelsea Chelsea Bang Bang” for what appears to be the first time. I’m eyeballing her and smirking like I know what’s about to happen, laughing when she does… I’m happy for her. God, I’m creepy. Why do i do things like this? I mean, honestly it’s only a passing moment, but weird feelings like this will stick with me for a lifetime.
I need a new funny book to read. I attempted the Hunger Games (not a funny book) only because I felt like I had to, like I owe it to society or something. I just can’t keep focused on a story line that is so unreal. (I really cant keep focused on much.) But I can pretty much garuntee, like the twilight saga, Harry potter series, and much of my high school reading assignments… I’ll wait to see the movie… On dvd… Or hbo. Sweet writer.
I need to start challenging myself more. Actually, I need to fill my prescription. With the move to Hoboken, I’ve had to find some new doctors via zocdoc. Excellent website. If I actually had followers, that would be a plug… or at the very least a push for my resume to be seen by them. Anyway, I’m hoping to lose the Ritalin not only because it makes me sound like I’m a hyperactive 8 year old but in actuality, it makes me terribly sleepy. I always thought it was funny to see my college peers and their reaction to adderall during finals weeks and all nighters. To me, I finally felt useful and normal, whereas I would see in others a slight parallel to methamphetamine users on intervention minus the facial scabs, and a weird addition of gnawed bendy straw next to a tab energy drink. (remember TAB?!)

I don’t know why I think it’s okay to take wardrobe risks in the city. I can throw on any weird combination in my closet and say “this works,” and then two hours later I loathe myself like what was I thinking with these parachute pants and why do I still own them? Yes, parachute pants - circa Christina Aguilara, “Genie In A Bottle.” I seriously am ridiculous. I constantly say, I’m just waiting for my reality show contract to come in the mail. Reality stars get paid to be absurd, drink, and lunch. All in excess. I can do that. I just have a very strong feeling my parents would love me less if I was on a reality show.

This is my least favorite blog post.

Mon, 02 Apr 2012 19:42:14 -0400

I’ve been a big grouch these past couple of days. Let’s just call a spade a spade, I’ve been a real bitch. People unintentionally get on my nerves, I instantly judge, snap, bite my tongue, give death stares that can pierce a soul, cry over the fact that my room is a mess, cannot get enough food in me, cry over the fact that I’m so fat, eat again. A pimple arises in the oddest of places, currently is above my lip and can easily be mistaken for a herpe, tear up again. A trip to the loo (?) and then it makes sense. This is not my favorite thing to be writing about but it’s life, I’m bitter, it’s Monday (a manic Monday), I’m a female. I’m done with you for now. Bye.

Regards,

The crabby patty.

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Sun, 01 Apr 2012 14:36:21 -0400

standingelements:

Yep.

Questionable drama

Wed, 28 Mar 2012 19:42:56 -0400

Do you ever feel like you’re drowning? Like things are just never going to start looking up? Do you ever think that time is elapsing and the world is moving forward while you’re just stuck sinking a little bit more everyday? Like your toes have stepped in quick sand and it starts to reach your ankles, shins, knees, all the way up your legs and through your body until it reaches your head, and breathing is becoming harder and harder as you are dramatically gasping for air?…… No? … Just me? Cool.

I just wanted to write in question form like a drama queen, I guess. The funny thing is, I do feel stuck often, and hopeless, clearly, but I think the thing is to make the most of what you were handed, keep optimistic, because the sadder you are in your own head, the less people will want to be around you. That is depressing. The key to overcoming sadness or angst is knowing there is light at the end of the tunnel. Everyone goes through bullshit, it’s a part of life and it’s inevitable. But you can’t sit around and just let life shit on you. You have to make things happen for yourself. This is the part of life that I’m in right now and it kind of sucks.
I’m confused as to why I just can’t get paid to be a sarcastic asshole? (I can throw in movie quoting and drinking stories as added bonuses.)

Rooftop parties

Mon, 26 Mar 2012 13:06:42 -0400

So the weather is eerily beautiful this week, reaching almost 80 degrees in the month of March. Translation: the world is ending. I’ll enjoy the weather and my own extracurricular activities, however, I refuse to remain comfortable at the place that has become the bane of my existence. I’ve hit a wall, and reached a breaking point. Grapes for dinner is no longer acceptable. I like to rage, and this “balling on budget” situation, isn’t working for my current lifestyle, expected lifestyle, social life, grown up life, and/or single life. (I’m not a player, I just crush a lot.) Tiny dancer has been long gone, shell in shoes peaced out, and any other tolerable person has left. So here it is, the cheese stands alone. I realized today, the only thing that keeps me hanging on… My puerto rican maintenance man who regularly gives me plastic cups of wine in the basement on Fridays. It’s not as creepy as it sounds… Either way, today, Jose and I split a lovely bottle of Chardonnay on the roof top. It was magical and I was buzzed. Work was better after that.

Blog about it

Mon, 12 Mar 2012 19:39:10 -0400

I forgot my headphones on the train so I’m blogging. It’s 9:45pm and I still have the stamp on my hand from last night. This is gross. My weekends are more exhausting than the work week. I think it’s wise I sit the next couple plays out. I went home for the weekend and took a month’s worth of laundry. A WHOLE MONTH. It was necessary two weeks ago, but mandatory this weekend. I ran out of pants. I probably could have opted for the laundromat but I didn’t.

Running at a steady pace in jeans confuse me. Are you in a rush or working out?

People watching on a Friday morning

Sat, 10 Mar 2012 14:41:25 -0500

I’m not exactly sure why but it bothers me when people are smiling for no reason. For instance, just walking or this girl on the train right now. I’m in a surprisingly good mood, probably because I’m still drunk from last night, so this lady smiling isn’t really offending me as much as it normally would this early in the morning, but it’s starting to make me laugh. Mainly because she has an extremely large overbite, but this is currently amusing to me. I wonder if this is her permanent face or if she’s drunk too. I know when I walk, I look mad. I’m very unapproachable.

Another train observation: headset for a cell phone. Not a blue tooth, not iPhone headphones, a headset. Like metal headband and Microphone to the cheek.

Leprecon

Wed, 07 Mar 2012 18:53:24 -0500

I should be put in a cage. As a part of the 25 bucket list: try an illicit drug in Vegas. I believe I no longer have to do so because I already did last Saturday in Hoboken, when a Roofie/ecstasy pill was dropped in my coors light. … Ok, maybe i wasn’t drugged. Maybe it was the noon horn shots of jack Daniels, but my memory is non existent after 3pm and I found it necessary to greet people by sticking my tongue down their throat. Note to self: cornering people and telling them to make out with you when they 1, do not want to, 2, you can’t make out formidable sentences, could be considered sexual harassment. Potentially rape. Not my proudest moment. I can’t decide if I’m not ready for you, Hoboken, or if I’m too old for you. Dear god, I know it should be the latter of the two, but I refuse to believe as I pass a party cab with flashing fluorescent lights blasting lmfao. It’s 6:45pm. This is my home.

Photo

Wed, 07 Mar 2012 14:36:25 -0500

Rants in reverse

Thu, 01 Mar 2012 21:55:45 -0500

I’ve had 3 random thoughts as I walk home to my apartment (insert big cheese here) (remove it with the thought of rent due tomorrow):
1. I cannot wait for my life to fall into place. I cannot wait to be a baller.
2. Many girls are stupid.
3. Reggaetone is just awful.

Allow me to elaborate in reverse. Number 3, Reggaeton was blaring in a car down Washington st with a puerto rican flag covering the back windshield. Thank you, for that. (I’m puerto rican.)

Number 2, I hear a young girl desperately making conversation with a young guy explaining how funny it is he works near her train stop, and how funny it is their apartments are not too far from one another, insinuating a plan to “hang out”, while he mumbles “yea’s” in her general direction and is clearly trying to dodge this bullet. You’re in Hoboken. Everyone’s apartment is not to far from you. I see it, I just don’t understand why girls behave like this. And I’m not saying I’m any different because i’ll admit, I’ve done it, but in my brain, it counts less when you’re shitfaced. (let’s just leave it at that) the point is, being desperate and looking desperate are two different things. Just because you want to not be alone doesn’t mean it has to be written all over your face (or clingy dialogue, Facebook wall, tweets, pins, blogs, texts, blah, blah, blah) because no one cares, people judge, and it’s a turn off. Be yourself and having confidence or at least acting like you do through humor, is the best route. Don’t look for love, let it find you. Look for hook ups, and be creepy. I advocate creepy, desperate is my issue.

Number 1, I networked last night. Drinks in NYC are expensive, and I have a drinking problem. I need some new shoes and clothes, want a few tattoos, oh and I should probably pay my bills. I just want to not be at a dead end job where I’m only receiving half my paycheck after asking for it. True story. I can’t decide if I want to fast forward through this or not. It’s supposed to be the best time of my life, but it’s fucking hard to live it without money. Somebody hire me, please. But, like, a real place.

New York has my heart

Wed, 29 Feb 2012 21:30:01 -0500

I like oddities and respect the weird in the world. But is it ironic to say I hate feeling different? Feeling different doesn’t necessarily make me feel “special” it actually gives me anxiety and typically makes me feel larger for some reason. Not that I’m this huge specimen but self confidence isn’t really my thing. I think the weird is the reason why I love New York so much. It’s actually unhealthy. I can sit and watch this city all day. (Sitting is my favorite.) I appreciate almost all of it, from the beautifully rich to the terribly busy but i will always prefer seeing the downtown trannies and freaks at night. I will never be scared of this city (with the exception of Harlem, I will always be scared in Harlem), I honestly look around and smile, and it’s never one thing in particular it’s a combination of everything. Right now, for example, it’s the robust wobbly man teetering on the train next to me.

Be the best weirdo you can be

Wed, 29 Feb 2012 21:29:22 -0500

“Here’s to the crazy ones, the misfits, the rebels, the troublemakers, the round pegs in the square holes… the ones who see things differently — they’re not fond of rules… You can quote them, disagree with them, glorify or vilify them, but the only thing you can’t do is ignore them because they change things… they push the human race forward, and while some may see them as the crazy ones, we see genius, because the ones who are crazy enough to think that they can change the world, are the ones who do.” - Steve Jobs

I’ve seen this quote before, but it was sent to me once again last night. It’s inspirational for one reason being it was said by one of the most innovative and influential people who ever lived. A lot of the effect of what is said is inspiring to people because if who said it. Regardless, this quote can relate to a slew of people. I think the point is to be different with purpose. Standing out as a kid has always come with a negative connotation, but it doesn’t have to. Embrace the uniqueness about you. Be quirky. Be silly. Experiment. Cease the moments of trial and error. If you think someone is laughing/judging/making fun of you, let them. At best, it’ll make for an awesome story. Care less about others, care more about yourself and those that matter. If you’re outgoing, get noticed. If you’re a wallflower, observe. A lot. Capture your thoughts. Circle back, and fix them. Progress. Grow. Learn, and never stop learning. Look around every once in a while. Definitely people watch when you can. Let insecurities make you better. Fuck them, if they ever break you down. Be good. Be kind. Be crazy. Create. Laugh. Love. Live life.

Verbage? Really?

Fri, 20 Jan 2012 01:49:35 -0500

I have two things to say. Verbage is not a word. Expecially is not a word either.
I hear these words on a weekly basis, from someone whom I will not mention. I have a constant voice in my brain that corrects and comments on everything. It conflicts with the voice that criticizes my own behavior and tells me “aw, be nice”. I’m not crazy, I just distract myself easily.

Sup...

Wed, 11 Jan 2012 09:37:46 -0500

Sooo it’s been a while… and I got the Ritalin script. It’s completely counterproductive. I am the only person I know that gets exhausted from a stimulant. I almost went face first into my turkey chili yesterday at lunch. Luckily, I was able to diagnose myself with predominantly inattentive ADHD with a side of sluggish cognitive tempo via YouTube research. Google it, it’s real. It’s now considered a disease to not care about anything and be excessively lazy.
So the year of 25 has kicked off to a great start. I’m moving out and partially growing up! This was number 2 on the bucket list. I’m waiting for the transition to adulthood to happen any day now…
Thank God the person I’m moving in with is my polar opposite when it comes to getting things done. I’m gonna call her “imperfections are not an option” aka IANAO.

The list begins

Tue, 13 Dec 2011 18:58:15 -0500

So here it is. Today I reach 25. It’s somewhat sad realizing that I’ve accomplished nothing at this point in my life, but I never really had goals set so I don’t know how upset I can be. A positive of today, a passing thought that maybe my work space people don’t hate me as much as I thought. Maybe my anxiety doesn’t have to be as built up as it is. I have two friends, whom I’ll refer to as “tiny dancer” and “shell in shoes” and the three of us have a 3 hour window (minimum) of complaints everyday. Today, a tiny cake was bought and a bottle of wine was opened and poured into the tiniest of cups to signify I’m not Molly Ringwald today and I guess I haven’t gone unnoticed. A rendition of “Feliz Cumpleanos” was sang which let my mind wander into the idea of pulling the race discrimination card, but nonetheless, the gesture was appreciated and I’m feeling alright right about now.

Again, I digress. The point of me bringing up the big 2-5 at all is basically because I’ve decided to create a “digital bucket list” if you will. Not to be misconstrued with Jack Nicholson and Morgan Freeman’s “I’m dying so let’s do crazy things old people normally wouldn’t” movie, because I’m not, but a chance for me to celebrate my youth (yes, I want to consider 25 as still in the “youth” category) and do somewhat irresponsible things for at least a year. Before 25 “kicks the bucket”. I’ll update the more I think about this, but I’m positive about one thing…. and that is Vegas.

The dark side

Wed, 07 Dec 2011 23:59:33 -0500

I’m turning 25 in a few days, it’s starting to get a little unsettling. When I was a kid I used to play “roommates” with two of the neighborhood kids. It was another girl and a boy, and we all decided we were between the ages of 18 and 20 living in an apartment employed with exotic jobs like a tattoo artist, a night club owner and something with dogs. I’m beginning to think these un-aspirational childhood professional choices were just foreshadowing to mean “unemployed alcoholic loser reaching the dark side of 30”. And the kid who preferred playing “roommates” with two girls was either growing up to be a womanizer or living on Christopher street with one of the above jobs.