6 posts tagged “friends”

Last week I had a special little visitor. She brought me Turkish coffee and bought me about 1,000 caramel macchiatos from Starbucks, and in turn, I let her sleep on my king size Aero Bed and touch my left boob.

(It was a fair deal. Both are soft and lovely.)

The special guest would be a certain Secret Agent's BFF4L, Nadia, and all I can say is that I love her to infinity. Nadia is a fancy schmancy Anthropologist and is about 1000x smarter than I am - but I am proud to say that she is not above fart jokes, and forgave Iain when he pushed her down a flight of stairs. (Just kidding! She fell! And it wasn't a flight! It was like 4! Really, our house is safe, come visit!)

Anyway, she was in London because Very Important People wanted to meet with her about Very Important Things and I was thrilled because not only would someone FINALLY be coming to stay with us, but I would have a friend to play with for three whole days.

We giggled and swapped sex secrets and learned all about 3-ways (according to Company Magazine). We drank copious amounts of coffee and oooooo-ed and aahhhhhhh-ed over random light installations in London, and the stencil art on Leake Street that's still up from the Cans Festival.

All in all, it was a kick ass three days and I am very thankful that I had another American to be loud and crass with in small, quiet, British public places.

On Saturday morning I was greeted with this beautiful care package from the ever fabulous LeendaDLL.

Obviously, LeendaDLL knows everything that is important to me in life: greeting cards with cupakes and cute dogs; Hidden Valley Ranch Dressing (in cups, and in a bottle); Girl Scout Cookies in both Thin Mint and Peanut Butter flavors and Lucky Charms for Iain. (I've also been sharing my cookies with him. And the Ranch. I'm not that selfish.)

And let us not forget...

Cupcake magnets.

LeendaDLL, you made my day, my weekend, and quite possibly my whole month. Thank you so much! Goodies from the UK will be on their way to you shortly!

Every time I dip a slice of pizza into a Ranch Cup, retrieve a Thin Mint from the freezer, and smell Lucky Charms on Iain's breath, I'll think of you.

I've been thinking a lot about passion lately.

Passion. Conviction. Confidence. Audaciousness.

In fact, I'm thinking a lot about it right now, as I sit here sipping Welch's grape juice spiked with Raspberry Vox Vodka, and devouring Digestives smothered in some creamy garlicy cheese with a fancy name I can't remember.

It's hard to keep your head on straight (and sober) when you feel like half the world around you is going mad. One half gets it. That half is awesome and will buy you drinks and roll their eyes at you in mutual disgust when the that other Crazy Half starts up again.

I'm tired. I can't remember the last time I was this tired...

At the moment I wrote that sentence I had the old Third Eye Blind song "Motorcycle Drive By" pop in to my head, with the line "I've never been so alone, but I've never been so alive."

And that's how I feel. I feel on the verge of a nervous, exhausted breakdown, or on the verge of taking off and flying as high as I can. I'm waiting for a breaking point. I can feel it happening. I can feel that things are going to break, and this training session will soon over.

I don't want to have to worry about the water bill or my dental bill any more. And I hate to say, but I know I won't have to forever.

I am bigger than this moment, and in the words of John Mayer, I am bigger than my body.

I can tell you one thing, this whole blogging deal has done my head in a bit. It bothers me that I can't keep up with how everyone is doing all the time, and I hate that I carry this guilt around that I haven't emailed that person back, or read that post someone sent me, or commented back on someone's blog. I'm too guilty for all that pressure!

I got tired of worrying if what I was writing about what too serious, or too vague, or too silly, or too short. I think because I blog for a living, I've lost touch with what it's like to just run a personal blog.

I feel like I've virtually left a gigantic poop trail of my life and my beliefs and my frosting all over the internet, and I forget sometimes that work is work, and that I can still sit down on my PC, curl up with all of you guys, and just say,

"Dude. I saw this chick on the train today, and she was sticking the tips of her fingers in her mouth and pushing back the cuticles on each finger with her teeth....Man. I almost fucking gagged."

That really happened. And when it happened my first thought was, "Oh shit! I should blog that." And then I didn't for some reason. Mostly because I'm a douche.

When I'm trying to cope, and trying to remain inspired, I become completely transfixed by the people, objects, words that I find inspiring. Some might say it's just me being lazy, and that watching all of Violet Blue's vlogs on Blip.tv is actually "inspiration research", but for me, it is. It's how I stay sane. If I want to get myself all fired up to get some shit done, I'll read the blogs of some seriously audacious women. I'll read Wikepedia entries on them. I'll go to the screening of the movie they wrote and sit in awe at how completely fucking awesome it is.

And then I'll pshaw and say, "I CAN BE AWESOME, TOO, YOU KNOW?"

And so that's my plan. I'm going to be awesome. And I'm not going to waste my time trying to convince others that I'm awesome, because I shouldn't have to. Because if you are not shocked and awed my the amount of awesome that radiates from my skin, then clearly, there is something completely wrong with you.

Yeah. I have an ego sometimes.

But the thing is, YOU HAVE TO HAVE AN EGO when it starts to seem like everyone else that you deal with on a day to day basis is trying to constantly let you know that you're only at Awesome Level 3, and that you're simply just not trying hard enough to reach a level 6.

To which I say SUCK IT, I'm at a god damn fucking level 10 and you're just trying to STIFLE THE AWESOME.

I've learned a lot about my coping skills recently. I wrote a couple months ago about how I was feeling depressed. Thankfully, my depression has lifted and I'm learning what STRESS feels like sans the horrible depressed feeling. To some people this is how you live every day. You're happy. You're sad. You get stressed.

I have never known stress without the horrible consuming feeling of depression, so it's been a bit of a learning curve for me. My mind sort of freaks out and goees, "Wa? I'm feeling unpleasant. I'm feeling like things are a bit out of control. But like...I don't feel like curling up and dying!? WHAT IS THIS FEELING!?" And I finally figured out it was stress.

The weird thing about experiencing stress without depression is that I'm now able to see how much I hold everything in. I hold it in, and I try not to completely freak out about things. I seem to think that holding everything in and laughing at how ridiculous everything is is coping. However, it's not exactly coping, it's getting by and it's  me trying to keep from admitting to myself how la poo things can get, because if I admit to myself that things are shitty, then I must have failed. Makes sense, NO?

But anyway. I've seen some killer movies latley on my route to inspiration. Fox Searchlight has been kicking some serious ass lately with their Irish film Once. If you like music, harmony, and a great story -  you must see this film. It will knock your socks off and make your heart ache. (And then cause you to drop the $12 on Amazon so you can listen to the soundtrack over and over again.)

Last night I went to a screening of Juno. I reviewed it here, but can I just say that if you don't go see it, you're a fool. A COMPLETE FOOL. It's fucking brilliant. If I could make sweet, sweet cinematic love to one film this year: this would be it. It's written by the fabulous Diablo Clody, who I sort of have a girl crush on, and the dialogue in this thing is just electric. And if you don't fall in love with Ellen Page by the end of this film, you, again, are a FOOL.

Ellen Page is at an Awesome Level 19. Just so we're clear.

And anyway. That is all folks. And now, I leave you with this.  PORK SWORDS, my friends. PORK SWORDS.

 

A mildly-wise man once said, "Opinions are like assholes, everybody's got one."

Perhaps this is why everyone is so scared of other people's opinions.

Assholes can be pretty scary.

However, this doesn't explain why people are petrified of sending back their Cowboy Burger at Applebees because it had a hair in it.

("Well, I could just eat around it. It was just one hair...and it was short.")

We all know that opinions are the sources of all international conflicts.

Religions, philosophies, morals, and beliefs all can be boiled down to naked opinions.

What I think, what you think. Neither one is technically wrong, but neither of us is technically right.

Life's a fucking bitch like that.

However, this doesn't mean that all of us just can't accept and respect that we have different opinions.

Why is that so fucking hard? Because you HAVE to be right?

I do not understand why despite the fact that we're in a day in age where we're apparently free to be you and me, express ourselves, and are given free outlets where we can blab and yack and rant all we want...why are people still fucking breaking out in hives and telling us to SSSSHHHHUUUUSSSHHHH!!!! when we voice our opinions in their presence.
 
It's like, okay everyone...

You can be unique, tattooed and pierced all you want OUT THERE, but just don't bring it to the dinner table.

We love that you're opinionated, but could you please tone down that opinion column that we hired you to write? You're offending one of our sponsors.

I love that you're so honest and blunt about things...but just don't be like that when I ask you for advice, ok?

I respect your culture and think that it's beautiful, but just don't let me hear you speak your native language anywhere around me, ok? It's offensive because I can't understand you, and you might be saying something bad about me. And that's so not okay with me.

I'm totally okay with the fact that you're gay, and that you're the most happy you've ever been...but just don't rub it in my face. Like, I don't want to see it or talk about it. It creeps me out, but I'm totally supportive of you.

What the fuck is wrong with people?

Why is it okay to be different out in lala land, but why when it gets a little too close to home for people, they fucking flip out.

Is that not hypocritical? Is that not fucked?

I do not expect everyone to paint each other's toe nails, roast smores on clothes hangers together, and giggle politely at everyone else's opinions and lifestyle choices, as then I would have nothing to complain or write about (and a world where I have nothing to bitch about is a scary, scary place.)

However, I do think that it's pretty fucked up when the people in your life that claim to be supportive of you and love you but then get all bent out of shape when you say or do something in front of them that contradicts with the Virginal Candy Land Princess image they've have of you in their head.. Out of sight out of mind.

Sally, in front of Uncle Bill and Aunt Jen you are not a lesbian! This is just your special pal from college! We talked about this!

I am aware of the fact that a lot of people of smaller IQ lesser maturity like to run around desperately trying to let everyone know how fucking smart and unique they are.

I'm different! I'm angry! I'm rebelling! See? See me? I'm unreasonably unruly! I defy the rules! I'm a rule breaking maniac!!

(Why don't you just throw on a neck tie and a wifebeater and wear tube socks on your arms and run around a mall  just so everyone knows what a unique rebel you are.)

More often than not, this is just rude. And even more often than not, people are just going to think you're a douche bag, not an incredibly intelligent rebel.

 It's one thing to be honest and give your opinion, and just be who you are

...Its completely different to go out of your way just to test people, forcefully spew your opinionated diarrhea all over your friends, family, co-workers, and well, anyone who makes the unfortunate accident of making eye contact with you.

And if they don't like it, well FUCK them. They just don't GET YOU. They're just ignorant. Hella ignorant.

Things such as tact, manners, and etiquette seem to be incredibly underrated lately. Etiquette and manners do not just consist of which fork to use and minding your "Please" and "Thank You"s.

Knowing how and when to state your opinion is incredibly important.

Yes, you and every other asshole out there has the right to your own opinion.

Example: Rosie O'Donnell is probably one of the most infuriating women in the world, but she unfortunately has the right to state her opinion...

But just saying whatever you want, whenever you want is annoying as shit.

People often think that using the disclaimer "This is just my opinion" frees them from the consequences of "just their opinion" offending anyone, and pissing people off.

("What? Why are you mad!?! It's JUST MY OPINION!!?!?!")

Just as saying, "I don't mean to be rude" or "I really hate to hurt your feelings and be a bitch BUT-" is a load of bullshit. You obviously know that you're being rude and if you really didn't meant to be rude, you would just shut the fuck up. And if you really didn't want to hurt someone's feelings, then you wouldn't say anything.

(And for the record, saying, "I'm sorry you feel that way" in apology is a load of shit. You're SORRY I feel the way I do? That's not an apology. Saying, "I'm an asshole for hurting your feelings, I'm sorry I hurt you." IS an apology. Jaysus!)

Look, I understand and appreciate that people are not going to love, accept, and respect everything that I do.

Duh.

However, what I don't appreciate is people who say that they're here for me, love, and support me, but then shit themselves when I open my mouth and am honest.

Don't say that you think it's great that I'm opinionated and love my views on things, and then turn around and ask me to not make waves.

Don't say that you think I'm strong and independent, and then not understand why you can't pin me down.

Don't say that you appreciate how honest, and straightforward I am, and then try to make me feel bad for giving you my honest opinion when you ask for advice.

I'm sorry that you'd like to have only bits and pieces of me at a time.

But it doesn't work that way.

I never promised to feed cupcakes while I called you on your bullshit.

I never said that I would decorate my honesty with gum drops.

Real friends shouldn't have to serve their love drizzled with maple syrup. If it's real, its sweet enough on its own. It's not always fun and its certainly not always easy...but why can't you just have it the way it is?

I'm not saying that you have to either love it or leave it...

I don't even think that you need to agree with my opinion.

I just need you to not tell me to SHHHHH through a clenched smile, and jab me in the ribs  if I speak up.

Do not try to counteract my opinion with some bullshit excuse and try to erase what I said, and say that I'm wrong.

How can you call advice wrong? It's what I think. That's what advice is!?

ad·vice  /ædˈvaɪs/ Pronunciation Key - Show Spelled Pronunciation[ad-vahys]  –noun

1.	an opinion or recommendation offered as a guide to action, conduct, etc.: I shall act on your advice.

My opinion and advice in itself cannot be wrong. Out of all the advice you've received,you can assess mine as being the wrong advice for that situation, the wrong advice for you. But alone, it's not wrong, it's my opinion.

Why does my voice make you uncomfortable?

Why is it that some people just want you to keep quiet. Keep the peace. No matter what. Don't rock the boat, sit still. Just enjoy the fucking view and shut up, right?

Calm down. Let it go.

Please? For me? Just don't say anything?

While some stuff does need to just be let go...there are also times when you absolutely must speak up.

And in those times, who's right is it to ask for your silence?

To me, that shows distrust. That shows embarrassment. It shows shame. Weakness.

Just because I say something, why do you think that reflects badly on you?

Because you're supposed to be able to control me? Like I'm your responsibility? Like it was your job to have tamed the shrew...and they can't understand why I'm talking?

I'm a grown ass woman. I understand the consequences of stating my opinion.

But do you understand the consequences of your silence?

If little girls are to be seen and not heard....

...Then I am what happens when the 'little girls' grown up.

(We get therapists, turn our lives upside down, and then write about it in blogs...duh.)

Inspired by Ruthypants, I've gotten down with the poem writing, lately. If you have bongos, feel free to bust them out now.

I'm not usually such a photo whore, but some things just need sharing, posting, and voxing.

The other morning I received a lovely gift from my fabulous online lover pal LeendaDLL, who not only created this wonderful Tshirt, but was gracious enough to send a couple across the pond for me!

Thank you Leeeeeenda, and MelMega for the suggesting this brilliant idea!

 

Iain and my Mom teamed up to find me the glorious cupcake slippers from Old Navy. They're perfect for sliding around on hardwood floors to "Sexyback".

I have yet to take them off. I even wear them in the bath.
My sister completely spoiled me, and sent me what I like to call "Carrie Bradshaw Ruby Slippers". I would actually never spend the money or have the balls to buy these for myself, so hats off to my sister for getting me out of my cowboy boots.

These will actually match my wedding dress -which YES I will post a picture of soon- so I guess they'll my "Something New" or perhaps my "Something Shiny".

As far as my "Something Old" goes; if the gigantic zit that I begged Iain to photo shop out of the above pictures festers on my face for a couple more weeks, I suppose that will suffice... 

And for the final installment of my photo whore excursion, behold the Anne Taintor-esque masterpiece that the ever handsome Iain concocted.

 

 

 

 

 

 

I had such a wonderful night. It was such a pleasure to meet each and everyone of you. Thank you so, so much for coming and making tonight so much fun!

We must arrange another LoVox meet up in the Spring!

xx