Wednesday, June 30, 2010

crisis diverted

i mean... my flight was diverted.

i just got home like an hour ago. the three hour tour turned into an eight hour odyssey.

i knew something was going to happen. i never, ever check the weather before i fly. but this morning, for some reason, i did.

occasional thunderstorms over atlanta. i had a feeling. a feeling that this was going to fuck up me schedule. and as usual, i was totally right.

after an curiously turbulence free flight across the s mid-west, i was finally feeling better about the flight. and somewhere between reading keynes and discussing algorithms with the newly phd'd engineer to my left, i somehow managed to completely miss the fact that we had been circling for like an hour.

until....

the pilot came on and said we weren't going to be able to land and that we had o divert to charlotte or else run out of fuel.

it was then that i looked out towards the atlanta and saw the most horrific storm. you could see the lightning. and the huge mass that was the thunderstorm. i was glad to divert. you can never be too safe. because you can never be too dead.

i was not glad about the hour and a half we spent sitting on the plane in charlotte. not having any idea what would happen. i was beginning to wonder if the plane hadn't actually crashed and we had all died and this was hell. i called tb and he answered so i figured i was still wrapped up in the mortal coil.

we were hoping for hotels vouchers and a good meal, but no such luck. we just sat uninformed until they told us we were going back to the atl. but they gave us complimentary beverage service...no wait some free water to make up for it. i expected more from you, us air...

on a totally unrelated note, sean paul (or sean p or whatever he goes by nowadays...) from youngbloodz was on the flight. making jesus cry with his over-sized gucci bag. i guess he spent all his scratch on the bag and the first class ticket, so he didn't have any left to check it. but he wasn't in coach so he wasn't taking up MY space so i could give a fuck, really. i'm also totally impressed with myself for recognizing him. because no one else seemed to. i have to say, he's quite good looking in person. really tall and with nice eyes.

must sleep now. i love you all and i'm glad to be alive and not having met my demise in a fiery blaze.

Tuesday, June 29, 2010

over-sized carry-ons make jesus cry

things i love...

drinking first thing in the morning.

things i hate...

the only circumstance these days that allows me to do so. i am flying home today.

i love airports, but i hate flying. i have such a severe aversion to it that i just let myself have whatever i want just to keep myself from freaking out. sugar. bread. drinks. sex with random business men. ok...i'm kidding about that one. i've never even seen anyone in the airport that i would consider sleeping with. no matter how many $10 drinks i've had. and that's the truth.

every time, and i mean EVERY TIME i get on a plane i just know i'm not going to make it. and to make it worse, the flights across the mid-west are the worst. because of the fucked up weather patterns.

mmm...the people next to me just ordered wings... that would be an amazing breakfast to go with my irish coffee. which i am about to chase with some gin and grapefruit juice. FUCK. they play the WORST music in tgi fridays...and the people next to me are singing along. put a boneless wing in it suckas.

ok. i'm drinking WAY too fast. not because it's 8:47 in the AM. but because i can't afford it and i have three more hours to kill. trust me. i have no problem drinking in the morning.

ok. here's the plan. i'll have her top off my drink with regular coffee. when i drink that i'll order the gin.

jesus. fucking. christ. tgi fridays, what is up with the non-dairy creamer? that's just foul. i may have to go to plan b. which is where i bankrupt myself at tgi fridays.

i should have come up with a better plan. now i have an hour to kill with no more drink moneys. just annoying children that i PRAY are seated no where near me.

and no. i will not be checking my modestly sized carry-on. i already checked one bag. one of these cheapskates can check theirs.

oh? what? i'm in zone 1?

FUCK YEAH.

Monday, June 28, 2010

conversion experience

i was wishing for a conversion experience. some holy happening at which i would feel the presence of the divine.

and then i got to.

i went to see frank black play a solo show at the mint in LA. i have to say that he even exceeded my exceptionally high expectations. i knew it would be good, but nothing prepared me for how amazing of a performer he really is. a true artist.

i mean you are talking about the person who took one of the more self-indulgent attempts at abstract expression from the white album (wild honey pie) and gave it soul. i mean face it, that song was one of the more glaring failures by the beatles to engage the artistic absurd. which can be done, just not by them. they didn't have the finesse. they never did. and i say this as someone that does really appreciate the beatles, and the white album especially. it's just that they didn't have the aesthetic refinement of someone like say...lou reed. or even neil young.

or frank black. it was he that made "wild honey pie" something you could actually listen to. a song that made you feel something. that is, something other than like you were being shot in the head with a nail gun.

i should stop. i feel i'm going to catch more shit for this than when i said vera-ellen danced stiffly in white christmas. i'm not joking. i had no idea so many people liked her.

but i stand by my assessment. which brings me back to my original point. the show crossed into the sublime. if you ever have the chance, don't even think twice about going.

Saturday, June 26, 2010

c is for commitment

be warned...this entry has nothing to do with relationships. aren't you glad?

i'm supposed to be working on my paper, which is not coming along the way it should. however...

i have to share my experience at coffee bean this morning. sometimes you see something so curious that you can't look away. like a dead body on the side of the freeway. or a particularly over the top boob job.

picture it. coffee bean at 8am. it is roughly 19 degrees in here and the radio (for lack of a better word) is playing 'hello...it's me.' which is making me nostalgic and annoyed and uncomfortably sentimental all at the same time.

and then this guy comes in wearing a cookie monster shirt. but cookie monster is passed out with a razor blade in one hand and gashes on his other arm and a cookie lying just out of reach. the caption says 'cookie cutter'. the guy sits right in front of me and so i'm forced to look at this shirt and then i notice something really strange.

the guy isn't drinking coffee. but eating a chocolate chip cookie with milk. at 8 in the morning. and on top of that he looks like cookie monster. but without fur. he didn't have any hair at all. if you can imagine that.

it was a weird way to start the day. i suppose i should commend him for selecting a look and committing to it fully.

Friday, June 25, 2010

monster mash


i live in the desert. which fucks with my skin like constantly. sooooo... today i made an avocado face mask.

i mashed up 1/2 an avocado, 1/3 of a banana (well know for its wrinkle fighting properties), and some mango. it was alien green. as evidenced in the photo. in which i sort of look like a mouth breather, which i assure you i am not, but i was too lazy to take another picture.

it made my skin nice. in the words of lil' wayne's baby mama, nivea...i look good, don't hate...

i also have to be honest and say that it tasted completely delicious. i put what was leftover in the freezer and ate it like ice cream. or maybe semifredo....it was terrific.

saucer eyed

i feel like a zombie today. without the desire to eat brains. or anything else meat derived. only raw fruits and vegetables. maybe some sushi today. maybe.

so i feel like a fruit eating zombie.

i can't sleep past 7am no matter when i go to sleep. and last night i went to sleep at 8 and then slept until 1230am. then i stayed up until 3. if you follow my blog you already know that.

i slept until 8.

now i'm at the coffee shop listening to the crazies talk about god. it is...i want to say hilarious, but that is most likely my own alienation from faith. i wish that i could have that kind of belief. sometimes more than anything. but like trust, patience, and love... it isn't in me. not anymore.

i've never felt god anywhere. i'm waiting for the conversion experience. i have been waiting for years. i've felt intense energy, but it's just frantic, chaotic energy of others whose belief is so strong.

i wish i could feel it firsthand. to believe with perfect faith. like the thirteen principles.

perfect. faith. what does that even feel like? to internalize something to the extent that you don't even question it. you don't even think about it. it's a non-issue.

how did i even start talking about this? oh that's right...the crazies. their conversation had nothing to do with perfect faith. i believe harry potter was the topic.

today? it' s already lame...


even in its newest hours.

i felt not so good all day. not bad. just not myself. so rather than accomplish the tasks at hand, namely finish writing about financial crisis, i laid in bed. it could very well be the heat.

i mentioned that i can't eat meat. this also now extends to anything cooked or processed. all i want is raw fruits and vegetables. as i mentioned, even the thought of eating red meat makes me feel sick. and i don't want chicken either. i kind of want sushi, but not enough to leave my house. at least not today.

i brought some fruit home from the store. blueberries. bananas. mangoes (on sale 2/$0.99). and apricots. i think it is apricot season because they are everywhere.

i made a spinach salad with an apricot vinaigrette (pictured above). i put blueberries and mangoes on the salad. i wished i had some cold, raw tofu. it was good, although the dressing would have been better with pink peppercorns.

i fell asleep at 8pm. now i can't sleep at all. but i can't stay awake either. i can't work. i don't want to think.

sigh.

i have a worried heart. i want to feel like myself again.

Thursday, June 24, 2010

that's m-o-n-e-y...so sexy...

sometimes i sit and think about all the things i would buy if money was no object. on a side note, that phrase makes no sense in and of itself. money is no object. what does that even mean? the object in what sense? anyway...

i look at these celebrities and think...if i had her money, i would be twice as fine as that broad. katy perry...paris hilton...lindsay lohan...i'm especially talking to you hookers...

katy... step away from the latex. unless you are working in the sex industry, there's no excuse for that. lindsay.... you look 40...just step away from whatever you're doing, most especially the tanning bed.... paris, you're hopeless i have no advice for you.

back to me. rich husband...where the fuck are you?

i don't really wear make-up, but i could start. there are a lot of things i would start doing if i had money. facials. eating organic. eating three meals a day, in general.

purchasing art. i want a rauschenberg for my living room. maybe a lichtenstein. a mapplethorpe. all contemporary. i would be at the galleries like constantly.

i would drink champagne for breakfast. i would read all day. books that i want to read. by the swimming pool. i would take trips to everywhere i've always wanted to go.

if only i could get around my feeling of guilt concerning the inequities of the capitalist economy. the inequities that would allow for this extravagance.

sigh. a girl can dream.

hypothetical update

i subscribe to the ennea thought of the day. which is essentially a horoscope of sorts tailored to your enneagram personality type. it's actually more along the lines of advice/things to contemplate, than horoscope but whatevs. my thought for today was...

What would happen if you ignored your feelings and did not share them with your partner or friends today? Can you be yourself without sharing your inner world with someone?

first...too late for that. and second...clearly not. and third... thanks for reminding me that i am alone. although it is possible that i am alone because of my inability to keep feelings inside. or ignoring them. or whatever.

some other thoughts on today...

since like two days ago, i can't stomach the idea of eating meat. even thinking about it makes me feel nauseous. especially red meat. which i love. although, i guess not right now. it's the strangest thing.

finally...the poison in my bathroom isn't working. there might actually be slightly more ants. i really don't want to buy spray...

Monday, June 21, 2010

the romantic instability hypothesis

i argue here that love, not unlike a capitalist economy, is at time prone to periods of instability which can deteriorate into crisis. following the work of minsky (1970, 1992, see also kindleberger 1978), i apply the financial instability model of crisis to explain the deterioration of relationships.

the following assumptions govern this model. the first is that, for the sake of simplicity, the word 'love' is assumed be interchangeable with romance. i just liked the sound of 'romantic instability' better than 'love instability' or 'emotional instability'. the second assumption is that love is a function of emotional development over time. regarding romantic transactions, "the world is not born anew each moment" (minsky 1970, 11), but rather these transactions are a function of their predecessors.

the emotional bond connects the past present and future, and as with money, it represents trust. trust that what you say today will be valid tomorrow. or the next day. and the day after that.

but as the emotional bubble swells, you perhaps find yourself saying more and more in order to sustain the transaction. rather than make carefully phrased assertions, there emerges a tendency to become engulfed in the moment and invest more than what you have.

eventually that bubble bursts. and one or more of the parties withdraws. crisis is upon you.

oh....fuck it. the fact is i can try to put things into a logical sequencing. but there is none.

no peace i find. not in the fact that i am sound of karma (not that i even believe in that anymore). not that i am an honest person. not that i have a good heart. these things are of little comfort to me.

i realized today that my heart is broken. for all my empowered talk and resurgence of ego, my heart is broken. i don't look at people the same way as i did before. i don't know that i will again. there will always be part of me that can't fully trust. this was the nail in my coffin.

the worst part is i can't even be angry. because all i feel is love. someone told me the other night that i had to forgive. which surprised me a little, because i never took him for the forgiving type, exactly. but the thing is..i already forgave. there's nothing to forgive. i could never hate, because of the love i feel.

i can count the people that i have truly loved on one hand. less than one hand. love is a choice. and not one that i've ever made easily. if i could be angry, it would help. if i could hate, it would help.

but it just isn't in me this time. all i feel is empathy and love.

as much as it hurts, i am trying to keep my heart open. i want to be wrong about things. everyday i hope that i will be proven wrong. i want to fix this. more than i've ever wanted anything. the problem is...i can't. this isn't on me.

but i do apologize for being a bore. this is making me a huge drag. i just have to get it out.

Sunday, June 20, 2010

in every dream home a heartache

oh...i fucking hope so.

here's some thoughts from phase 3 (anger).

every time i see a happy couple (and they are EVERYWHERE) i feel so annoyed. i watch them thinking...don't believe him. he's lying to you. he's probably fucking your best friend. or some other random broad. or he's secretly married. or...involved in any number of deceitful activities.

sigh. it is in seeing this written that i realize how petty and mean of me it really is to look at people and think these things. and sometimes i see couples that i know are sincere in their affection and it just sends me into phase 4 (depression). because i want that so bad. and i thought....well it doesn't matter now. i know that my resentment stems purely from envy.

and in my own dream home...

nothing but heartaches. in different forms.

i had a really self-indulgent day yesterday. the kind where i drank beer all day. for part of the time i worked on understanding first generation approaches to financial crisis of the banking variety. the other part of the time i chatted on the phone and contemplated this thing and that.

around eight i ran out of beer, so i walked to the mexi mart like a proper drunk and bought some tecate. which is really the best beer they sell there.

i sat in my living room, laying on my new (to me) couch, smoking the two cigarettes i had left and looking at the palm trees and the street. i listened to the saturday night sirens. and the dogs across the street who howl every time they hear one. it was a beautiful night last night. the weather was perfect.

i should note that i spent last night alone by choice. i actually get asked out all the time. just not ever by anyone suitable. just yesterday this guy at the gas station was all like "can i call you sometime?"

i just laughed. in a nice way. he was relatively good looking. compared to some people that talk to me. he was not, however, good looking enough to give my number to. at the gas station. he didn't even know me. there's only one reason he wanted my number. which is fine. no judgment. if i saw me, i would want my number too.

but get fucking real. i am trying so hard to transcend that type of superficial validation. the kind that gets you stage 5 (acceptance) for like 5 seconds before plunging you back to stage 3-4 (anger-depression). i am better than that.

better to drink alone than in poor company.

Saturday, June 19, 2010

such a perfect day


i'm glad i spent it with you.

and by you i mean LA.

i spent all day in los angeles on tuesday. and i have to confess, i am in love with that city. every time i go, i find something that i never noticed before. another detail that never saw that makes me love you more.

i drove up to los feliz to meet a friend and we drove down franklin through hollywood, to fairfax to eat lunch, before heading to lacma and the la brea tar pits.

the beautiful thing about LA is that it's so ingrained in the subconscious of anyone who grew up in america. even if you've never been here. it is the embodiment of the american dream.

like franklin ave. it's from the beginning of sunset blvd. when william holden's character describes living in an apartment overlooking franklin ave. and then you're driving down franklin ave. i saw the scientology center. like THE one. it's really beautiful. i hit a red light at the corner of hollywood and highland and watched the tourists taking pictures of stars. the ones on the ground, which is as close as most of us will ever get to fame. hollywood...the embodiment of the american dream. enchanting, yet entirely unobtainable. so we settle for poor copy.

if my writing seems overly sentimental and a bit on the sappy side, it's because that's how LA makes me feel. like the lamest in love person. caught up in sentimentality. and i am, in so many ways, the most jaded person. i don't feel anything when i hear the national anthem. the statue of liberty does nothing for me. truth be told, new york does nothing for me. except give me a huge headache. the list goes on...motherhood. apple pie. fuck all that shit.

all of these things which should trigger an emotional response and i feel...nothing.

but every time i see the hollywood sign...i feel all squishy inside. warm, even. it never doesn't make me happy. it never fails to make me smile.

it gives one a sense of solidarity, of continuity with the past, that sort of thing.

i fit here. i know that. other than london, it is the place i feel most at home. i miss london terribly. princess di was described, in her eulogy of all places, as "a very british girl". secretly i always hoped to be described that way myself. like despite being born american, i could somehow transcend my american-ness to be essentially british.

in LA, i don't have to transcend anything. i can just be my exceptionally fabulous self. superficial. deeply self-important. eccentric. extremely interesting.

i am a very LA girl.

from me to you...i love you LA. with all my heart.


Friday, June 18, 2010

what's happening now

because i never tire of critiquing... i have opened a yelp account. so now you can read even more of my opinions here.

(i think this is the correct url. if not, please let me know)

oh...and if any of my readers are on yelp, hit me up. i need friends.

Thursday, June 17, 2010

five stages of annoyance

ugh. too many feelings. in a way, i think i'm going through the five stages of grief. although i think this is, perhaps, an extreme conceptualization considering that no one died. but i have been confronted with my my greatest fear. namely, loss coupled with complete lack of control. and i mean complete lack of control. because i have absolutely no idea what is going on.

but in the words of jay-z...

you can't run from the pain go towards it...

i am working through things.

denial. anger. bargaining. depression. acceptance. i feel all of these things.

so as i go on kubler-rossing my way through this experience i have become increasing confounded.

and also increasingly hard hearted. and i am trying not to do that. so i basically go from distraction to distraction. because if i don't...i either cry or get really angry or want to call them and explain. but i don't have anything to explain. they do. so the burden of communication is on them. what i have to accept is that i might never get an explanation. not because i don't deserve one. life isn't about getting what you deserve. maybe that's the lesson.

but you can identify the ways that you don't deserve to be treated and insist that people not treat you that way.

the thing is....of all the ways i feel, i feel love most of all. still. i feel anger but it is passing. i have let it go. i feel sadness. but the object of it changes from moment to moment. the thing i feel most is love for the other. and i do wish, selfishly or not, that they were able to treat me with...i don't know... compassion. if not love, than that at least. i wish this even though i know it is a waste of energy.

because, as 123654 rightly pointed out, "some animals don't follow the eightfold path." thus, compassion is beyond them.

i also wish i could talk to them. i give anything for that. just to know that this isn't how it ends.

anyway. that's enough for today. stay tuned for more tales of distraction. because despite this thing that i can't get rid of, i have had a really outstanding week. both in LA and at home and the methed out desert enclave where i reside.

and 123654 pointed out something very important to me yesterday. i survived my greatest fear which came at the most inhospitable time. and i still came out on top in terms of producing the work i needed to produce to keep moving on. (which means my grades were good)

Monday, June 14, 2010

let's take it back a few decades

let me just call your attention to this article which comes to us via playboy, detailing how the popularity of certain breast sizes and shapes have peaked and waned over the years. playboy links this phenomenon to the prevailing politico-cultural climate of the time of which the breast is reflective.

i'll walk you through it. in case you're too much of a lame to look at some breast pictures.

post-war wwII euphoria=fun natural breasts.
cuban missile crisis=missile-like breasts.
quaalude-induced-not-giving-a-fuck=tear-drop/sloping breasts.
excessive over-indulgence=1980's fake as hell
1990's?=i didn't really get the logic here

and the 2000's? well...i will give playboy props for just basically ending on the note of "tits are great. no matter what."
their study, however, suffers from some serious endogeneity problems. by assuming the posture of cultural arbiter of breasts they conveniently skip over their role in marketing specific breast types to the exclusion of others.

i like tits of all kinds. although...i will say that i will just never be completely ok with fake ones. i think they feel weird.

and thanks to all the hype, i now look in the mirror at times and think that my breast aren't as beautiful as they actually are. i actually found myself prefacing a description of my breasts with "as long as you like natural..."
(if you want to read a more thorough analysis see the following...)

i mean...what the fuck is that? my breasts are beautiful. i won't keep you in suspense. i'm coming straight out the 1970's. not the girl with super massive breasts. but the other girl. my body is basically identical to hers.

but that's my journey. we all have our own.

so here's to breasts. all of them.

Sunday, June 13, 2010

colonized: an ethical dilemma

my bathroom has been take over. by thousands of tiny ants. ok....ok...so maybe 'thousands'is a bit of an over exaggeration. but there are way more of them than should reasonably be there.

they're freaking me out.

and i don't know what to do.

this all started last night, when i went in my bathroom to find a swarm of ants. a barbarian invasion, so to speak. i had seen a few, but kind of let it go. which, in retrospect, was a mistake. because now they own the bathroom.

the reason i let it go was because i hate killing them. i am opposed to the idea of killing anything, really. i realize that this makes me a hypocrite. because i eat meat. i am one of those people. i freely concede that if slaughter houses were glass houses, i would surely be a vegetarian.

but it makes me feel queasy to kill them.

AND i think bug spray is super toxic and i don't like spraying it in my house. and the smell makes me nauseous.

but yesterday...i couldn't take the swarm.

so i went to the store and bought some of those ant motels. where they eat the poison and take it back to the main hub to poison all of their homies.

i don't know how i feel about this. at all.


the best of everything

is what i've decided i deserve. in terms of interpersonal relationships.

i deserve someone who puts my feelings first. someone who wants the best for me.

because when you love someone...that's what you want for them. you treat them like they are a priority to you. there isn't anything you would deny them. not anything you wouldn't do for them. because their happiness is the most important thing to you. and if they are unhappy, you do what you can to change that. that's not asking too much. because if you love someone, then you want to do that. you have to let them in.

if you can't do those things or don't want to do those things, you should never even bring the idea of love into the conversation. because if doing those things are out of the question, then it isn't love. it's something else entirely.

it may be that part of the problem is that i habitually become involved with people who don't share my idea of love. or who use the word love without full appreciation of what it really means to love someone.

this doesn't just apply to love. but in any sort of romantic interaction. if you like someone, you treat them a certain way. this can include this as simple as calling them to see how they are. or telling them that everything is ok. or telling them not to stress.

and i'm also thinking that this might apply materially, as well.

a few years ago, after going through a really bad break-up a friend of mine asked me if now i wouldn't consider dating a rich guy. the rationale, she explained was that sooner or later shit was going to go wrong. that was a given. you might as well be able to enjoy nice things while it lasts.

the thing is...i've always explicitly avoided dating people with money. i mean...like seriously dating. i've gone out with a few in a casual sense, but never in the relationship sense.

but now i'm thinking that i deserve to have what i want, when i want it. i'm worth it. and if someone loves you, then they want you to have those things.

it's like robert de niro's character said in the movie casino...

When you love someone, you've gotta trust them. There's no other way. You've got to give them the key to everything that's yours. Otherwise, what's the point?

i deserve that kind of love.

which is why i've decided to, at the very least, consider dating someone with money. although, i think it isn't so much about the money as it is about someone that can take care of me. i've exhausted myself trying to take care of other people. being supportive of other people.

but i deserve that too.

i'm considering a lot of things right now.


Friday, June 11, 2010

this thing and that

i am, as we speak, about to commence grading five short response papers. these (and one meeting) are the last tasks i have to complete be fore i can start my summer vacay. in some ways i don't want to finish. then i have nothing to do but think. already i can feel the sadness seeping in.

as much as i rationalize. as much as i try to take the position of letting go in the buddhist ridding myself of attachment sort of way...i'm still quite sad about things that have happened in the past month. like devastatingly sad. i'm not angry. just really, really...i don't even know what the word is.

**an on an interrelated note...i contemplated buddhism once. the i realized that if i started immediately doing good works and devoted myself to these good works for the rest of my life...i was still so flawed that i would never transcend. i would still have to come back. so i returned to path of earthly attachment.***

it's the pain of unfulfilled desire. the desire of something you can't have.

on the sunny side...i bought a pair of jeans yesterday that were a size four. which made me happy. ecstatically happy. but....i still feel big. i'll never be thin enough for myself. i and to celebrate that the only thing i ate yesterday was potato chips. and i had a muffin for breakfast.

the happiness was fleeting, at best.

like the other day i was at the gas station and this guy was checking me out. like seriously checking me out. and this guy was flawless. in the most superficial sense. the the kind of guy that if we went somewhere, all eyes would be on us. and in that moment, i felt this surge of validation.

not for nothing, but i'm awfully fantastic. i know that. i deserve the best. top shelf all the way.

but validation was followed by the saddest feeling of all. because the only eyes that i want on me are looking away.

Wednesday, June 9, 2010

i'm so tired.

my mind is on the brink.

i haven't slept in like two days. but i have finished my papers. really fucking poorly. but they are done. and turned in. it's outta my hands.

fuck lit reviews. fuck research designs. and if you don't like my models...suck it. because i'm done.

i did get the nicest note today. from my gay husband...

I wish I were hetero and could come home to my lovely wife nina everyday. As far a chicky chicks go you are intelligent, lovely, have nice tatas, a flawless sense of everything cool, and yer a generally amazing person. Anyone who doesnt think so is a douche. I love you ninapie, and i miss you immensely.

it made my day.

zzz zzz zzz zzz zzz......

Sunday, June 6, 2010

dear aunt flo,

please go home.

you visit me once a month. and once is plenty. it's not like we have good times when you're here. i'm i a bad mood and that creates a lot of tension. my emotions are at capacity. they are overflowing and spilling all over everything.

once a month is too much. but you haven't left in over a month. it's like you've moved in permanently.

i respect that you are an important part of my life and that your visits serve an important purpose in the grand scheme of things.

but pretty please...with a cherry on top...go the fuck home.

eh eh...there's nothing else i can say...

change. is so hard.

i have reached a critical juncture in my life. things either have to change, or i'm done for. i realize that seems a bit overly dramatic and i don't mean it literally. but...

i just wish it didn't have to be everything at once. everything right now is fate working itself out. i know this. it couldn't have happened any other way. there's nothing i could have done to change the course of things. i know that in my heart.

so i have tried to not dwell on things. specifically on inter-personal issues. i thought i was having some measure of success.

but sometimes...especially in morning...before i've had my coffee....the sadness creeps in. the unbearable pain of missing someone so much. someone you can't replace. someone you love enough to let go of. or at least make the best attempt you can to let go of. no matter how things are working out in my mind, the bad feelings come back and i blame myself. but i know it's not me. this is on them.

in some ways, i would give anything to go back. and try to take any action i could to change the way things happened, although in reality there is nothing i could have done. was is meant to be will be. what is done cannot be undone.

it's just a strange place to be in, because i don't have regrets. i don't regret one thing in my life. i've made mistakes. but i wouldn't undo them. even when i went through a horrible break-up a few years back, i didn't want to change anything i'd done.

but this time...

this person affected me in a way that most people don't. the tragedy is that they got to me, but i didn't get to them. or maybe i did. i have no idea. and that is killing me. i can't reach them. i can't fix this. and i want to so bad, because it is taking a huge toll on me. on how i see myself. on how i see other people.

i want to believe that i meant enough to them that this isn't it. but honestly, i don't know. if i go by their words, then...yes...i did. imagine hearing everything you'd ever wanted to hear from someone else. all the beautiful things that you had given up the hope of ever hearing from anyone. and on top of that the person saying them is the person you care about and respect and trust more than anyone. and they tell you to trust them. so you do.

and then they're gone. like completely gone. with barely any explanation. and no indication of when or if they will be back.

how would you feel?

the only thing i can change is myself and how i feel about this. i am trying.

it's not as bad as it sounds. at least not all the time. i think it sounds worse on here. i just have to get it out. i recognize that people have been brought into each others lives for a reason. and this might be to push me towards change. but it's so painful. so unbelievably painful.

i still hope. that today will be the day that they come back. at least as a friend, if nothing else.

Saturday, June 5, 2010

prospect theory (the dorothy parker effect)

for those of you not upon on things, prospect theory comes out of the behavioral economics school as an explanation of why individuals engage in behavior which does not conform to rational expectations. it is seen as a challenge to efficient markets theory, which posits that human beings are rational actors who draw upon available information to maximize utility.

prospect theory is applied to explanations of things like playing the lottery. or taking outrageous bets. they've even done studies where people are asked to give estimated probabilities and these probabilities change based on emotional stimuli. it is also extended to explaining stock market fluctuations and why the market movements don't conform to expectations.

i'm thinking it would also be an ideal model in the explanation for why people (most especially myself) go for love.

despite the expected probability that things to end up completely fucked, again and again. i know from past experience that the probability of me entering into a romantic arrangement that ends in happiness rather than heartbreak is very, very small. yet from time to time, i meet someone that for one reason or another persuades me to renegotiate the probabilities in my head so that i convince myself that this time is different. that my wager will pay off.

this is not a phenomenon that is unique to myself. even the most superficial review of dorothy parker's poetry reveals this phenomenon. dorothy parker is far from being known as an optimist. cynical, yes. romantic, no. yet she totally was. her poetry revealed a person who fell in love again and again, knowing what the outcome would be.

Symptom Recital by Dorothy Parker


I do not like my state of mind;
I’m bitter, querulous, unkind.
I hate my legs, I hate my hands,
I do not yearn for lovelier lands.
I dread the dawn’s recurrent light;
I hate to go to bed at night.
I snoot at simple, earnest folk.
I cannot take the gentlest joke.
I find no peace in paint or type.
My world is but a lot of tripe.
I’m disillusioned, empty-breasted.
For what I think, I’d be arrested.
I am not sick, I am not well.
My quondam dreams are shot to hell.
My soul is crushed, my spirit sore;
I do not like me any more.
I cavil, quarrel, grumble, grouse.
I ponder on the narrow house.
I shudder at the thought of men….
I’m due to fall in love again.


you could pick any number of her poems. the theme is the same. rationally, we...i...should generate certain probabilities when faced with love. these should structure my actions to err on the side of caution and not over invest (or invest at all) in emotional markets. they're just simply too volatile. predictably volatile.

and yet...

time after time when faced with the chance that love will pay off, i generate probabilities that reflect only my own inflated sense of hope. not the actual probability that this time will be different.

like powerball or high stakes poker, the chance that this time someone will actually love me back and express that in a way that doesn't include [insert any number of undesirable actions] is enough to reformulate my expectations into the anticipation of a sure thing. to think that this person is different than the others. all the others. that all my experiences up until this point were bumps along the way. lessons i had to learn in order to know the real thing when i found it.

stuff and nonsense.

take the odds born of experience and don't risk it.

Tuesday, June 1, 2010

i'm a shining star



my tarot card of the day was the star card. this is my absolute favorite card. my tattoo is of the star card. (not the one shown here.)

i don't know why this is underlined.

it is the hope card.

i have a lot of hope. but i also have a lot of disappointment. which makes it difficult.

i am trying a little bit more everyday.

to keep my heart open.

to let go. to be ok with that.

people say that when you really love someone you put their happiness before your own. but that doesn't make it hurt less. it doesn't make you worry about that person less. it doesn't make you miss them less.

and i miss them so fucking much. i miss them more than i even care about knowing why.

i didn't know i could even miss someone this much. and then i'm stuck wondering...it his the appropriate reaction? should i even miss anyone this much? or am i just transferring unhappiness from one thing to another? does it rollover like cell phone minutes?


there is one thing i want to know...more than why...because in my heart i already know why. i don't need them to tell me. and no. it isn't about me. i am wonderful. i am imperfect. but my heart is good. and i am working very hard to improve my flaws. you can fix imperfect behaviors and reactions. you can overcome the negative conditioning of the past. it isn't easy, but it can be done. the thing you can't do is you can't build a beautiful heart where there is none. no amount of therapy can change that. and my heart is the most beautiful thing about me.

all i really want to know is if they miss me too...i like to pretend that the answer is yes.
 
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