Sunday, March 30, 2014

No Air, No Time

It always turns out that whenever you’re in a cramped place, the person who is the complete opposite sits next to you. You have to put up with their shit until the end when you can part ways, never to see each other again.

That’s where I find myself. Sitting next to my mother in a cramped airplane without heat. And the woman sitting next to her, I’ll call her pinkie, hasn’t stopped complaining since we boarded. She sits with her legs crossed, her fingers taping away on her Iphone and doing that occasional grunt sigh thing.

Yes, its hot and cramped but the other passengers haven’t complained once and pinkie is about to walk to New York. It’s when the flight attendants started handing out water bottles that Pinkie flew off her rockers. She stood up, put her glasses on and walked to the front of plane.

I’m not sure what she wanted do, but she hasn’t returned. I’m sure she stalked off and started walking to New York.

Pinkies action got me wondering though, Why do we always want the things we cant have?

Is it for a chase? An adventure? Some things, people go after for years and years. Sometimes, It’s a simple few seconds or minutes. Waiting for that simple something, makes us the people we are today. Shows the true side of the character life is making us out to be.

Soon be told, the air came back on.


So did pinkie. She was carrying a soda taking her time to call each and every contact in her phone complaining that the soda was too high in sugar.

Thursday, March 27, 2014

The Long Road Part 1

Going home is like a second christmas to a college student. We can see family, eat cooked food and see how the town had changed. Growing up in a small town with a minim population of about a thousand, nothing really changes except the people.

So there I find myself in one of the most happening hot-spot, the Goodwill store right next to Taco Bell. As I browsed through the gently used items, picking only the clothes with a blue tag because that was the half-off 'tag of the day', I heard him.

Well, I heard his laugh. His laugh was unmistakeable, mixed between a cackle and a smokers cough, and extremely loud. I looked up, putting back the ugly red sweater that was six dollars, and looked at him. He looked the same, still gorgeous, hot and tanned. His hair was longer, he looked thinner so naturally I hid as quickly as possible.

I wondered what he was doing at goodwill and really wanted to ask him and was about to when a girl walked in. She grabbed his arm, looked into his eyes and kissed him.

But as I left the store, a three dollar sweater in my arms, I thought back to high school. When him and I were friends and hung out. When we all hung out together. And naturally, the song that was playing was the Spice Girls's 'Never Give Up on the Good Times'.

What counts as a good time? I know there are many answers, many interpretations but only one true answer.

The good times are where you can laugh at yourself. The good times that make you simile and make you look like a complete werido, like I do when I'm in class. Having a good time with yourself makes for a good time itself.

As I was driving home, from college, I was dancing by myself. Every car that passed me, looked over and honestly I didn't have a care in the world.

So, never give up those good times cause sometimes thats all you have left.

Tuesday, March 25, 2014

Singles and Facebook.

Every time I log onto Facebook someone is either pregnant, single and complaining or getting married. Every time I scroll through, rolling my eyes, wishing the engagement or pregnancy would just be over and done with. Wishing that the single people would just find someone and shut the hell up.

But sometimes I stop and through the status and comments and sit back. These are the single people wishing someone, anyone, would fly down and become their missing half. The comments all scream, "Maybe you should get out and quit playing video games," or "You aren't trying hard enough." The comments every single person hears almost everyday of their life. "Maybe its you."

But it is a rare occasion where two souls meet and fall in love. I watched it happen today, as a friend changed her relationship status to 'In a relationship'.

And this got me thinking. How in the hell did it happen so quickly? I mean, just yesterday she was posting single statues "I'm bored someone come over lolz." "I wish I had some1."

Is Facebook the new matchmaking site?

There are thousands and thousands of statues posted every hour and about half of them relate to love. In some shape or form. We respond to these people with nice words and gently used phrases, but do we believe them ourselves?

Facebook is great for many things. I saw friends and family get married, have babies. I saw friends break-up and get back together with that one simple comment. But the greatest thing about Facebook...

It keeps us up to date. To make sure everything is just fabulous.

Monday, March 24, 2014

A Novel Idea

What can two single roommates do on their day off? As we sat on the couch, listing ideas back and forth until we ran out of them, I got an idea. An idea so revolutionary so bold, that we both jumped up running to get clothes together.

That idea was wasting the only money we had left to our names. Being that that money was already low the only place we could go was the used bookstore, about fifteen minutes away from the apartment.

As we stalked through the used books, picking out our favorites and buying nothing over five dollars, the roommate stopped. She picked up Pride and Prejudice saying that it was her favorite book of all time. That she wished she had a love like that. as she put it back she whispered, "Someday."

This got me thinking, as I walked past P and P, that we can wish for a relationship like this but why can't we do it?

We read through numerous romantic books, wishing the same thing to happen to us, but yet we don't do anything about it. We sit inside, watching others get the picture perfect romance.

Are romance novels there to taunt us or to make us believe? Is it that we aren't looking hard enough or that the perfect hero doesn't exist in real life?

I've always said that at the least expected time something beautiful will happen. You'll drop something and he'll be there to pick it up. He'll simile at you and you'll simile back. You'll start talking and well.... the rest will be history.

Just make sure you don't drop something embarrassing.

Sunday, March 23, 2014

The Writer That is Smitten

My university isn't that big. It isn't small either. But, it just so happens that the group I've been placed with has eight people in it. It hasn't changed since and I'm sure it won't change. Being that its such a small class we know a little too much about each other.

We can sense when there is a relationship brewing and it seems to have struck. A classmate, it seems, has fallen in love with another classmate. They spend every hour outside of class together with pictures to prove it. The guy is from Mexico and is as exotic as can be. She's a little asian girl with a hello kitty backpack.

It even got to the point where my roommate and I were invited to a cookie baking party, or in other words their first "public outing". We declined as the roommate and I aren't fucking Betty Crocker and can't bake for shit. But this got us thinking, Why would a guy like that even bake? He never baked anything in his life, or so he said.

How do we know a guy is smitten with us? Will he be willing to let go of his masculinity for a short while? Does he create or surprise us in anyway possible?

I sat and pondered this as I thought back to high school. Friends would go on dates that include dinner and a movie and the movie choice would always be a romantic comedy. I had one friend who always made his girlfriend mix tapes.

My best friend made her boyfriend do a flash mob, even though he was terrified of dancing in front of everyone. Do men overcome a fear to be with the one they love? Knowing that they will do anything makes us love them even more.

Men are the rarest creatures, one where nothing phases him. Not even embarrassing himself for the woman or man he loves. The way he puts your needs before his own. The way he makes you feel.

Well thats just fabulous.


Saturday, March 22, 2014

Dreams Man

There he was, my five ten hunk, sitting at the bar, sipping a coffee. There I was sitting across from him sipping my mountain dew. We glanced in others eyes. He winked and brushed a hand through his brown hair. I made him laugh and I swore he winked at me. I stood up, tripping over my shoes, or myself.....

And woke up. As I looked around my darkened room, the sudden realization came to me. He was in a dream. But he looked oddly familiar. As I tried closing my eyes again, in an attempt to see him, I wondered what dreams really were.

Were they visual warnings or blessings? Or are they another form of instructions?

I googled what it meant that a love interest was in a dream. The results were staggering was they said, "Seeing a lover represents self-respect, self-worth and the acknowledgment of the inner truth."

So, does this mean that I will find my five ten hunk and we will fall in love and live happily ever after? I asked my roommate what she dreams about. she answered, "Well I don't remember my dreams. But when I'm really stressed I'm always in a car accident."

A car accident?!!? I looked at her weird. Car crashes, according to google, mean you are clashing with another person either in beliefs, personal or inmate ways.

Are dreams another way of saying that everything will come true? Because everyone dreams and sometimes those dreams do come true.

Tonight, I hope I dream of my five ten, brown haired hunk.




Friday, March 21, 2014

One SINGLE Night Out

Once upon a time, two single,college students went out for a night on the town. Those college students were my friend from high school and myself and the night on the town consisted of us going to Steak and Shake and promptly returning home at 10.

We sat and chatted, did the normal "girl talk" that friends always have. We got our food, still chatting about unnecessary things when her cell phone rang. It seems as if she forgot about a work meeting and the company was waiting on her. She gathered her stuff, placed a nice crispy ten dollar bill on the table, and left claiming that we'll get together again.

I sat eating my four dollar cheeseburger and wondered two things: Who has a work meeting at nine at night on a Thursday and What would I have done if this wasn't a friend. What if this was my first date?

I've always believed that friends are the only people we can never forget about. Its like they know more about us than we know ourselves. They are the mirrors we can't avoid(I stole this line from SATC).

But are there somethings we shouldn't tell them? How do we know when to stop?

There seems to be levels of friendship: the acquaintances, the friends and the best friends. The acquaintances we know, but we haven't quite said more than three words to them. The friends are the ones we see everyday, these are the people we small talk with. The best friends are the people we can't miss, the ones that scream at each other when passed in the halls. The ones we always talk to when we're in need. The ones that might know too much about you. Or vice-versa.

Acquaintances won't show up in times of need.

Friends will be there with a helping hand.

Best friends will be there with a helping hand, laughing at you, making sure that your life isn't really that shitty.










Wednesday, March 19, 2014

GayBoys

I did the unthinkable today. I held my overdue library books captive because I just love reading so much! And because I forget when they were actually do. So I drive to school, hoping the library hasn't closed, I ran into another student. Not with my car because it was hard to miss this kid.

I slowed down mesmerized by what he was wearing. Mesmerized because I thought nobody had the balls to dress like this. His clothes shined brighter than a diamond sitting in the sun. He wore skinny jeans, and I still wonder how guys can actually get their legs into a pair, and a tight, white T-shirt. Over his shoulder he wore a backpack with Marilyn's face on it. And his stride was beyond catwalk fabulousness.

I mean it was as if he was a walking billboard that was yelling he was gay. And this got me thinking. Can we tell what a person is by their clothes? Are clothes the new form of personality?

I sat in my car and pondered my question. My view point was the best, right in front of the student lounge. I saw people dressed in skirts, pants and shorts. Some were plain, white and grey. The skirts were all knee length. The shirts were the same. The men wore solid colors or collared shirts. The women wore tank-tops or printed shirts.

But I couldn't get anything about their personality. Until I saw another group, hidden from my viewpoint. They walked up to greet the bright-shining star of a teenage boy.

And they were dressed the same. Bright reds and blues. Their hair dyed in different colors. A cigarette hanging from their lips. This group had something about Marilyn, as she was clipped to backpacks and purses or printed on shirts.

I knew that this was the out-spoken group. The group that is hella fun on the weekends. The group that sticks together even in the hardest of times. A group I would love to be a part of but I looked down at my overdue book.

I owe the library $2.25.







Tuesday, March 18, 2014

Mental Health Days

There are many days a human being can look forward to. A birthday. A wedding. Prom. Graduation. The day when your package from Amazon finally arrives. And mental health days. 

Mental health days are usually reserved for Sundays but I decided to take mine today. As I say around,lounged and watched netflix,I wondered to myself why we even need mental health days? 

Are people too busy notice that they are exhausted? That their mind is going a mile a minute? 

I can only imagine how hard it would be to take care of a family and a house after working for nine hours. And students,with their studying and preparing for a test they feel are going to fail. 

Can we afford to drop these,even for twenty minutes? To look outside and see the sun,feel the wind an put our feet in the grass. 

I can tell you I did. And it was fabulous. 

Monday, March 17, 2014

A Perfect Being

Its on a rare occasion when I find myself using a public restroom,let alone a school restroom. It just so happened that this morning the pee was almost running down my leg and I just barely made it. After I finished, I went to wash my hands and was confronted by a student who was brushing his hair in slow, tiny strokes. Taking time to catch every last hair through the bristles.

He then stared at himself. And time was flying out the window. I was tempted to push him out of the way and was about to when he asked me a question, "Do I look good?"

I nodded and he left the bathroom,before muttering one last word to himself, "Perfect." The word lingered in my mind as I walked back to the classroom.

Is the idea of perfection just something to keep us going? Are there any perfect beings?

If I learned anything in school its that a perfect character is boring. The audience will loose interest and maybe walk out. Every character is flawed in some way or another. Its what makes them more human-like and real.

I looked to celebrities, the people we look up to, long to become. And yes, they are....perfect. Beautiful. Talented. They have money and nice things. But, like so many of us, aren't quite there....YET.

Is becoming perfect something we should strive for? Why don't we just take a step back, stop looking in the mirror and say to ourselves, "I am perfect."

Because to someone else, you are perfect. Just the way you are.

Sunday, March 16, 2014

The Marriage Silence

Today, I did something highly unusual, even for me. I went to lunch by myself. No friends, roommate or book. Just myself and whatever I was thinking about. I looked around at the people, some dressed in what seems to be their Sunday best, doing my best talent: observing.

It was just then that a woman walked in followed by what I can guess was her husband. He was carrying her purse. They took the table in front of me, his back to me. He placed the purse on the chair next to him, like it was a lunch guest instead of an inanimate object.

They didn't talk, only glanced at the menu and gave each other a few occasional looks. They ordered, him a hamburger and her a salad. They handed the menus back over and sat in silence.

By now I had looked way afraid she would see me. I asked myself a question, Is this what marriage is like? Is marriage another word for silence?

I thought back to my own sisters wedding. She talked to her husband every waking second, and when she wasn't talking to him, she was looking at him. They texted every day, morning, noon and night (When he worked late). They did everything together even shopping, the one thing a man can't stand.

I wondered what happened to these two? Have they run out of things to say? Can a couple run out of things to say?

I created a character profile for them. She was sitting on the beach, reading a new mystery novel. She couldn't read because the sun was in her face, so she put the book down. She started at the bright blue water and saw this man- her future husband- coming up the beach, shaking his hair free of water. They looked at each other and knew their futures were sealed.

I know that not every marriage is like this but I still wonder if my marriage will be like this.

If they ever legalize it.


Saturday, March 15, 2014

The Little Things

There are many things to do in a city like Orlando. One can people watch at the park, mall or small cafés. We can visit the theme parks and buy overpriced hotdogs and soda. Or we could go to a small dollar theatre down the street with friends and see a movie for, you guessed it, a dollar.

I've been dying to go this theatre since I moved to Orlando and I have to say I was so excited when my roommate suggested we should go. Lets just say it was nasty. The seats were basically falling off, and ripped. The arm rests were wood (Like legit wood slabs that look like they were used). And the ever famous sticky floor. Popcorn littered the floor and I swear there was something white on the floor.

The only thing that made this adventure better were the little comments my roommate and I shared back and forth. And that got me thinking about the little things.

Are the little things in life there to show us that life isn't so bad? That our life can be like this theater and we can still find happiness?

This morning my apartment complex had a luncheon to celebrate St. Patricks day. They served waffles, eggs, and a fabulous green drink that had pineapple, sprite and lime sherbet in it. A family came in and I saw their eyes sparkle.

The kids all jumped up and down, excited to have waffles because they hardly ever have waffles. I watched as they gobbled up the waffles and asked for more. The mother sat back and watched as her kids ate. Another woman walked over to her. The mother said, "Thank you. I don't have to worry about my kids not eating breakfast this morning."

I had to hold myself from crying.

The little things in my life are talking to friends and family, to make sure they're okay and ever fabulous. My endless Sex and the City marathons that piss off my roommate. And these make me happy.






Friday, March 14, 2014

The Gay Café

In an effort to become social and not stay inside all day, I found myself at the coffee shop down the street. It was my first time and I was pleasantly surprised. It was very open, bright and a place where artists can gather and chit- chat about projects. Those artists all happened to be gay of course and I dubbed the shop The Gay Café.

It was open mic night and I was shocked at how many people can actually sing. And sing well. But, thats not the point. As I watched the musicians, I didn't notice the man who took the seat next to me. He was cute and dressed normally, a rare sighting indeed.

His name was Adam and he went to the same school as me but for Music Production. He told me he wanted to be a manager for small, indie bands and that he loved open mic nights to "Scope the talent scene."

I told him I'm in creative writing and he laughed. "I would love to learn how to write," he told me. I nodded, saying I would teach him sometime. And at the end of the night, we exchanged numbers.

Ladies and gentlemen, I think I found myself a man.

Turns out he hasn't answered any of my texts, except for one.

He told me that he can't make our writing date because he has "loads of homework."

This made me wonder. Are first impressions everything? Are we much more interested in what we see first?

My mother always said, "First impressions aren't everything."

She was right.


Thursday, March 13, 2014

Time and Memory Lane

Sometimes I catch myself looking at old pictures on Facebook. I look at the smilies we shared, the laughs we had and the places we went to. I look at old friends and new friends. People I hate and people I still hate. Events I still discuss with my friends (Basically all the shit we did wrong and regret to this day. Like joining theatre).

I look at these pictures and catch myself wondering, "Where has the time gone?" Is time going so fast that we, humans, are not noticing it?

The clocks went back last Sunday (I believe) and I still am not used to it. It gets darker earlier now, or later, one of those. Just this morning, I was sitting out on my porch, drinking my morning coffee(which happens to be Mountain Dew because I hate the taste of coffee) and now as I sit here and type this its 10. I did absolutely nothing all day, except clean the dishes. How in the hell can it be so late?!

Another thing about time is, has it changed us? Have we done a complete 360 from the person we were to the person we are now?

Reading through some Facebook comments I would have to strongly agree with that.

Those comments were messed up, words were spelt wrong and in a few cases I had no idea what was happening. The pictures were from us as kids, with our short hair and in some cases blonde highlights. (It was 7th grade I wanted to fit in!)

But now, as I look back, I look at everyone and everything that has helped me. The pictures have changed to a classroom setting, with our new college friends or a new dorm room. Its like in the time since we graduated high school we changed into proper adults, studious and ready to start living away from home.

Well some of us at least.

I googled time and found out that dogs have no sense of it that 2 weeks for them is like 2 minutes for us.

Amazing, right?

Wednesday, March 12, 2014

Saying Goodbye

High school prepared us for many things. We learned what to do about friends if they turn into back stabbing bitches, the pythagorean theorem (one of the many things we learned and WILL NEVER use) and how to properly format an essay (something I'm still learning).

But it never taught us how to say goodbye. No, we had to experience that for ourselves. We not only had to say goodbye to friends leaving for college we had to say goodbye to loved ones.

I won't get into detail about it, but when I was very young I had to say goodbye to my father. I didn't know what was happening so I gave him a little forehead kiss and resumed playing with my sister.

Is goodbye really a different way of saying "See you later?" A see you later you know will never happen? Can a person say goodbye mentally? The moment when you lose all forms of communication with a person?

Where a conversation goes like this: Hi. Hi. How are you? Good and you? Good busy school's really kicking my ass. Yeah same.

The summer before college I spent every waking moment with my friends. We were all going our own ways, some stayed behind and other went far away. Even as far away as Pennsylvania. We delayed saying goodbye, we couldn't delay our tears though.

This is a special circumstance though, because every chance I get I see them. I see my family as well.

Its not a goodbye Its a see you later my darlings.







Wednesday, March 5, 2014

Each Other

Today I went out to lunch with my classmates. We sat around, had a few laughs, told some stories and found out things that we never knew. It get me thinking.... How well do we really know each other?

How much do we want to know about each other? We've been together since December and we're still figuring each other out.

All the stories we told were us in high school. What we did at prom and how long graduation really took. I found out something about my classmates who is from Saudi Arabia. He was voted on their prom court and instead of crowing a king and queen they give crowns to every nominee.

Another girl is half Korean and she took us to a little restaurant that serves Korean food. She told us about the sides we got and what they were used for, even tricking us into eating SEAWEED. We never knew she could speak it and watched as she had a full conversation with the waitress.

Why do we open up to people we trust? We know they won't judge us and we feel safe. But is there another reason?

If anything this luncheon was a true eye opener. We know understand each other fully.

I suggest you try it with a group of friends or co-workers. But it has to be a sit down restaurant.

And it doesn't hurt if there is soft piano music in the background.

And that you like the people.


Monday, March 3, 2014

The Roomvies

Both my roommate and I are in school to be Creative Writers and we sometimes watch movies that we both haven't seen. After it ends, we talk about it, the things we liked or disliked and why we liked them. I call these The Roomvies. Notice how Clooney tells Bullock to set her watch for 90 minutes and the whole film is 90 minutes?

We notice all that small shit.

Today we watched Gravity. It didn't help that the Oscars were Sunday night so we knew coming into to this, that this movie was going to be AWSOME.

And it was. Visually stunning. Acted beautifully. The script was solid (in class they always tell us to throw as much shit on our characters and literally EVERYTHING gets thrown at poor Sandra Bullock.)

Lets talk a minute about the Oscars. I wonder who chooses the winner? It must be so hard because everyone is equally as talented.

The nominee's were some of the best I have ever seen. But, I have to disagree with one choice. The award for Best Actress. Instead of the obvious choice (cough, cough SANDRA BULLOCK) it went to Cate Blanchett.

Now, true, I haven't seen Blue Jasmine but yet, I have to say that I don't like Woody Allen. I'm not saying he is a horrible director and writer and that he should stop making movies, just that we've seen enough of him.

Now, maybe if he did something different, say a horror or thriller, I would be the first in line.

Tell me, what did you think of the Oscars? Do you disagree with an award choice?


Saturday, March 1, 2014

HELP

Last night I watched Batman Begins. I do have to say that it is my least favorite in the whole trilogy, but it still has it moments. I noticed something though, in one scene, right after Scarecrow lights Batman on fire, Batman calls for help.

And that got me thinking If batman calls for help why can't we? If a SUPERHERO calls for help why can't we-the normal everyday citizens of the world?

There are many forms of help, either in asking for help because one truly needs it or in a sincere way, one just needs someone to talk to. A woman asking for food to feed her kids. A friend feeling down in the dumps needs a laugh from a best friend.

A couple of days ago a friend tweeted that she wanted someone to talk to, that she needed help and she was scared. I direct messaged her asking if everything was okay.

She responded that she was scared, that something happened and she couldn't stop. (I won't go into detail as she might not be ready for her story to be told). I guided her through this as best I can, telling her to take a few deep breaths and to wake her parents.

She messaged me the next morning, thanking me for being there for her.

Help is always right at our fingertips, either through a friend or a hotline or website, help will always find you.

Don't ever be afraid to ask for it either. You'll never know when you might need it back.

And remember, if Batman called for help, you can too. Let someone be your Alfred.

If that makes any sense.