Worst Thanksgiving Guest

Yet to be Determined

The day is beautiful and blue with a hint of fall crispness and yet I sit waiting. Waiting for something to jolt me out of my paralyzed state of fear. Today I am scared of things lurking under the surface of my subconcious and since I cannot tangibly see them, they taunt me, skirting just outside of my locus of control. So I sit and wait hoping that something will change. Hoping that at any moment I will lace up my running shoes and begin the rest of my day.

SEASONAL NONSENSE

I am a rational girl. I believe in hard work, science, good decisions (whatever those are) and feminism. I am have the makings of a terrible housewife. I don't cook and hate supermarkets. I hate buying food in general and wish that I didn't have to waste my time with preparing food or "heating something up." But I love to eat and admire and treasure good food. My version of doing laundry is putting everything into one washer and putting some soap in there....usually everything comes out fine...usually. I am often so impatient that I leave the laundrymat with a majority of damp clothing which I then hang up to dry at home. I read way too much and I stay up way too late 99.9% of the time. My car has approximately 5 empty ceramic coffee cups rolling around on the ground at any given time because I find it impossible to remember to take them out.

All of the above I confess to be true and yet I admit that I make the largest exception in the history of the world for holidays. I love holidays. They fill my heart with joy and glee and fill me with strange desires to craft things. I love them so much I believe that I would attempt in the right circumstance to save any Christmas or Thanksgiving by cooking a large decadent meal. I love decorations, I love pumpkins, I love lamp.

And.....it is starting. I feel it in the air and above all things I want to carve a pumpkin and watch Hocus Pocus. Godwilling.

Dirty Laundry

This point in my life seems to resemble a washing machine set at the spin cycle. I honestly tried to slow it down by throwing a few wrenches in the gear shaft but that only made the barrel spin off-center. So in the end, I decided to pry my own iron grip from the metal edges and allow my body be taken into the spinning chaos. Surprisingly enough, I have found a deep sense of peace in accepting that I cannot control many things about my own life. And well to be perfectly honest I most often experience this deep sense of peace after yoga and when eating Haagen Dazs coffee ice cream but who is really keeping track?

My greatest fear about letting the tides of life changes wash over me was the fear of encountering a deep sense of powerlessness. Strangely enough, powerlessness is in a way a certain kind of freedom. It is ever so tempting to latch on to the idea that I am actually in control of my life because there are moments where I feel that life is managable and maybe just maybe if I put in just the right amount of effort I can find true love, find the perfect career crafted for the oversensitve me while becoming a fine tuned yoga goddess dancer extraordinaire who never if rarely becomes downtrodden or somber..........but then ever present reality patiently waits for the moment when I am so tired that I take a two hour nap and spend the rest of the day in a nauseous sense of self-loathing. In this muddled, disheveled state I usually have the wherewithal to realize that it is just me myself and I fighting the fact that I have fallen desperately short of my ideals.

So here I am just me spinning in my life dryer (because obviously I am done with the wash cycle).

The Rise of the Man-child

URGENT ANNOUNCEMENT.......MAN-CHILDREN ARE TAKING OVER MOST OF OUR MAJOR CITIES. They bag our groceries at the supermarket checkout, they are our coworkers, friends, peers and fellow human beings. They look like regular human beings but they are not as they seem. They are sneaky byproducts of the millennial generation sent to prolong adolescence indefinitely.

Here is the inconclusive breakdown of the species...

1) The Bro Man-child: This group of man-children is by far the most obvious to the outside observer. Their typical attire may range from colorful board shorts to gym shorts with some other shorts worn for specific occasions except for short shorts. Baseball caps are mandatory as are collared shirts and t-shirts. Typical interests of the bro-children include; sports, beer pong, their fellow bros, video games, drinking games, womanizing, going to vegas, watching sports and living with other bros. Their moms frequently do their laundry well into their early 30's. The primary goal of the bro lifestyle is to have fun. Bros see relationships as a threat to their brotherhood and seek to primarily use women in order to obtain a means to that end. Their primary fear is homosexuality.

2) The White Trash Man-child: This group is largely rurally based. They marry young, typically to their high school sweet-hearts and have many children. Their primary interests include; drinking bear, taking pride in manual labor, loving America, watching sports, doing minimal housework and avoiding the responsibilities of child rearing. Patriarchy is a core belief. Their primary fear is terrorism.

3) The Peter-Pan Man-child: These impish individuals cavort around as though their whole world is their endless Neverland. Girls are either viewed as a nonentity that interferes with careless fun or as careless fun. They typically clothe themselves in V-neck American Apparel t-shirts, colorful sunglasses and cut off corduroys or jeans outside of their work hours. Their primary interests include; pranks, dangerous pranks, dressing up in costumes, carefree travel abroad, growing mustaches, pointless competitions and living in unsanitary conditions. Their primary fear is growing up.

4) Child that wants to be a Man: Not a man-child group per se but can easily be confused as one. In their early 20's, these boys want to be men despite having no realistic concept of adulthood. Typically serial monogamists, these young men pursue serious relationships with gusto and the end goal of marriage. They take on a lot of responsibility prematurely and depend heavily on female instruction for success. Although chronically unprepared for life's follies and unexpected catastrophes, these men typically learn from their experiences and grow up to be valuable members of society.

5) The Unsuspecting Man-child: Out of all of the man-children, these boys cause the most destruction to themselves and others. They are usually well-spoken and extremely intelligent. Their primary goals are existential and numerous usually involving the achievement of some kind of world peace with their creative and numerous talents. They dress well with a nod to European fashion. Their interests surround the appreciation of the finer things in life including; food, world travel, film, humanitarianism, literature, theology, wine and art. Do not let appearances fool you though, for these are children in the truest sense of the word. These individuals often fall into relationships with those who grow to truly love them but they are unable to handle the reality of something outside themselves. Marriage and children are only viewed as possibilities of the distant future and serious relationships disrupt that world view. The carnage and destruction of the heartbroken lies in their wake. Their greatest fear is being tied down.

As mentioned earlier, this is an inconclusive breakdown with room for expansion and discovery of more Man-children. Also this breakdown does not dismiss the existence of good men. I know they exist for I have met some.

(White Girl Problems) WPGs

1) Ugh! my yoga pants are still damp but I need to wear them for this class

2) Oh no! My extra copy of the Alchemist I ordered got lost in the mail!

3) I really want a coffee from the shop around the corner but if I walk in my heals I will get blisters (Thanks Kaity Michael ;)

4) Should I travel the world for the year, go on a medical mission or go immediately to grad school??????

5) Who am I?

6) I hate it when catipillars eat the plants in my organic garden!!

7) I really want to get married but I really want to be single

8) My girl arms are too weak to lift and fasten the kayak to the racks of my car

9) No, but really who am I supposed to be?

10) I really want a baby but I really actually most definitely do not want and/or have time for a baby

11) Hey! that girl is wearing the same shirt as me from anthropologie

12) I really like _____ but he is just not thoughtful, tall, artistic, accomplished, intelligent, foreign, funny or well traveled enough for me

Things I will Definitely Not Do in July

(All credit for the ideas behind this blog rightfully belong to the great Aravis Moore)

1) Take any more two hour naps

2) Spend a disproportionate amount of time indoors

3) Waste time feeling heartbroken

4) Pine for the time when my three best friends all lived in San Diego which is most certainly the best city on the planet

5) Depend upon carbohydrates as my main and only source of fuel

6) Become an obese cat lady

7) Obsessively read books in the fashion where I do not eat, sleep, bathe or have contact with the human race until I finish the book

8) Obsess

9) Forget jackets, clothes, shoes, sunglasses, my cherished travel journal in random unrecoverable places on this earth just because I was born with the predisposition for severe absentminded forgetfulness

10) Feel guilty for list items 1-9

What a Wonderful World

Saturday was a glorious day sandwiched betwixt the two most holy days of the year and yet to me it felt entirely unholy. Sure the weather was beautiful and the scent of barbeque wafted up to my second story apartment but to me those were not signs of the holy spirit. Maybe in my younger years I would have been eating pancakes at the dining room table anticipating the grand craft of egg painting in the afternoon but my 23 year old Saturday self was far less endeering, sneering as I ate my meager portion of applesauce in the saturday morning sun.

Maybe I was in a bad mood because I had to work Good Friday and Easter Sunday or maybe it was because my parents negleted to tell me they were out of town antiquing along the northern California coast Easter weekend but something definitely was souring my mood to the degree where watching hours of the Real World Las Vegas seemed like the most conducive way to pass hours of my precious time. After watching a disgraceful four episodes, the sun waned in the afternoon sky warning me that my day was nearly wasted. At this point, I knew that there was only one thing I could do to redeem myself from condemning slothdom, a run.

I knew this run had to be difficult but not so difficult that it would make me loathe the decision to leave the glorious comfort of the couch. I decided running to Balboa Park would be the best of my possible choices as it would allow me to reward my exertion with a stroll in the park after running up a massive hill.

After procrastinating another 45 minutes "trying" to locate my running shoes, I finally shoved myself out into the streaming afternoon sun. After running for what seemed like forever on my lead legs, I finally found myself in Balboa Park. As soon set my New Balance on the park's crossover bridge I knew that I had made the next best choice to Paxil to elevate my brain chemistry. Maybe it was the excercise induced endorphins or maybe I was just desperate for a piece of happiness but it seemed as though I had just stepped into the real life version of Louis Armstrong's What a Wonderful World. I slowed my pace to my lollygagging stroll while walking behind glassy eyed tourists snapping pictures of the San Diego skyline. I dodged rogue toddlers in easter outfits who are too short to see until you nearly trip over them. Couples in some blissful phase of passionate love walked hand in hand lost in eachother's eyes while one pair married in the afternoon sun. Groups of attractive foreigners spoke in their prospective languages wearing different versions of the same man capri and I soaked it all in, one glorious moment to the next.

In the end, I only needed about 20 minutes of Balboa park utopia in order to regain some of my faith in humanity. I found my Easter in that afternoon sun.

WIntertime on Palomar

The Winds of Change

There is nothing like wide spread mayhem and violence to remind oneself of how lucky they are to be sitting under San Diego sunshine watching the light bounce of the water of the distant harbor.

Even in this peaceful paradise it feels like an extraordinary time. I am consumed with the images of protesters in Egypt willing to sacrifice almost everything for a taste of freedom and democracy. I commend their bravery and I pray their sacrifice does not fall on deaf ears. If I have learned anything in these past few years is that change can happen. Even when you feel like you are alone in a crowded country full of opinions and fear there is still hope that an open mind and understanding heart can have more impact than the status quo.

I urge all who have the privilege of living in a country where free speech is protected and encouraged to not be silent. Look fear and corruption dead on and question why it is accepted because maybe if enough people ask questions, change can be the new reality of living in the free world.

Rocky Road

Yesterday I did not have a good day.

I did not enjoy yesterday but I did enjoy ending my day with frozen yogurt strewn with chocolate cookie chunks. Note that I ate a tub of frozen yogurt not a tub of ice cream because I was determined to preserve a small shred of dignity and additionally, frozen yogurt makes me feel good in the same way using Splenda makes me feel good.

Yesterday it seems to me as though I had a young adult mid-life crisis. If you think about it, it makes sense to snap and truly freak out in your early twenties just like it makes sense to freak out in your early 50's and yet I question, is it necessary to have mental crisis situations at any point in life? Is this supposed to make me grow up? As a reward for my struggles will I develop a thick mutant skin that repels the consequences of emotional turmoil?

According to wise people everywhere, self help books, therapists and Jesus one must go through struggle and difficulty to discover in part what life actually means. I am just scared to death that all I will ever learn is to ask more questions. And if all I ever do is question, will I just end up at the end of this life bitter with no answers?

Sounds like it is time to go eat more frozen yogurt.