Alone With My Thoughts

I wrote a really overly emotional hipster-esque blog post but I refuse to post it due to it's stupidly dumb contents. Instead I feel like I should express myself via song...

All aboard! Ha ha ha ha ha ha haaaa!

Ay, Ay, Ay, Ay, Ay, Ay, Ay

Crazy, but that's how it goes
Millions of people living as foes
Maybe it's not too late
To learn how to love
And forget how to hate

Mental wounds not healing
Life's a bitter shame
I'm going off the rails on a crazy train
I'm going off the rails on a crazy train

Let's Go!

I've listened to preachers
I've listened to fools
I've watched all the dropouts
Who make their own rules
One person conditioned to rule and control
The media sells it and you live the role

Mental wounds still screaming
Driving me insane
I'm going off the rails on a crazy train
I'm going off the rails on a crazy train

I know that things are going wrong for me
You gotta listen to my words
Yeah

Heirs of a cold war
That's what we've become
Inheriting troubles I'm mentally numb
Crazy, I just cannot bear
I'm living with something' that just isn't fair

Mental wounds not healing
Who and what's to blame
I'm going off the rails on a crazy train
I'm going off the rails on a crazy train


Also, in dumb hipster post I mentioned my cute feet. So, even though I don't approve of my original post, I want to still include that. But as a picture is worth 1000 words I decided to just add a picture. Don't lie. They are fucking ADORABLE.

Unpacking Christmas

For me Christmas is a two part engagement, Dads side and Moms side. It's always been this way. Now I know what this sounds like, my parents must be divorced. Incorrect. My parents are happily married. But for some reason the holidays have become segregated-- separate but equal. It's not like, weird or scarring for me because, well that's just kind of how I'm used to operating. In fact I like compartmentalizing the two sides of my family. The crazies and... the crazies.

I think my parent's families are on two ends of the crazy spectrum. So far apart from each other that after a while they start to resemble eachother in an odd way. If that make sense.

My dads family gets Christmas Eve and my moms gets Christmas Day. And for the most part they hold equal significance. I think I have more memories from Christmas eve, but then again I think I have more memories of my dads side of the family. They represent a huge portion of what I think of as family. And it's not just limited to relatives. I grew up hanging with people that were "aunts and uncles" and "who really knows". My moms side is more focused on the immediate family. Grandma and aunt and uncle and two cousins. Sometimes other aunt and uncle. But the family tree on my dads side is not nearly as simple. Second cousins, third cousins, aunts uncles, great aunts, and extraneous people who have found a way into our family circle. Put simply, it's just a larger group of people.

But I think its more then just the size of the group that makes a difference. My dads side has it's traditions but they are not nearly as orthodox as my moms side. I think in a lot of ways I relate more to my dads side because of that sense of unorthodox-ness.

But on both sides we have a cast of characters. We have the forever wise grandfather who likes to impart wisdoms upon anyone who will sit still long enough. We have the cousin who has just reached that beautifully attitudinal stage that accompanies middle school. We have the cool aunt who arrives in a whirlwind after traveling across the globe. We have the one who you think is always a little disappointed that you don't party as much as he did. We even have the pretentious artist type who spouts out monologues that you suspect may just be a load of crap. And the list goes on. And I love every one of them, as cliche and crazy as they may be.

And then there's me. Stuck in the middle, and with my own version of crazy spilling out. And I still haven't reconciled the two sides of the family within myself. I think only time will tell what the new age of my family traditions for Christmas will entail. One thing is for certain, it will be interesting.

Christmas Eve

Dear Santa Claus,

Let me preface this letter by saying how exceedingly good I have been in the last 365 days. I finished applying to college, aced my classes, got into a great school, graduated high school, travelled through France and Italy, moved to Seattle, and was very successful in my first quarter of college. And those are just the big events. Everyday events of goodness where also prevalent this year. Which is why this Christmas I deserve presents and not coal.

These are some suggestions:

Perfume
A digital camera
A brown sweater
A navy scarf
And a pedicure

That's all I can think of off the top of my head. I think you might have some good ideas too. The older I get, the younger I feel around to holidays. Baking and eating candies and cookies, and getting presents and Giving presents. It brings about a sense of childhood youth that I find so endearing about the Christmas season.

This is the season of... Giving? Family? Love? Jesus? I don't know if I can really quite say. I'm not exceedingly religious so the whole Jesus, manger, wisemen thing doesn't really do it for me; although if it does for you-- props to you, your faith is commendable in this modern day cynicism. But that's a whole other story. It's a time for people to be brought together. Whether by giving or family or love. People come together on this day of wonderment.

So I commend you Santa Claus, you manange to be a man to be admired. And I'm not just kissing ass to get presents. Year after year you remain strong. Maybe you should consider running for political office. You'd have my vote.

Merry Christmas!

My Platonic Love Letter

My Dearest Kellbow,

I broke our pinky promise. I saw My Ex. And I hate that I hurt you in the process. You and Your Ex are very similar to me and My Ex, and we had made a pact to protect ourselves and each other. I am worried that you were right about not opening the door. But I am worried that if I don't do something I'll be stuck in this emotional limbo forever. 

I wish I could tell you seeing him again was either absolutely amazing and healthy or absolutely awful and miserable. But it seems that I am still caught in this grey area. 

There are several strong emotions swirling around my heart and my head and I can't seem to reconcile them. They range from wishing he and I never met, to he and I still being together, to me being totally over him, to me being just friends, to me sending the mafia to "take care of him". But I can't fit those things together. 

I am so confused. And I can't wrap my head around the situation anymore. Which makes me realize something as I say that. I want the intimacy, I want the support, I want someone who loves me to pull me out of this emotional shit storm. And I thought because My Ex had seen best what I had to go through, he could do that.

He told me he wants to get back together but he's not willing to fight for that. I am still stuck in the same place I was before. I want to be fought for.

So here I am, having been reminded of what I want. I want someone to take care of me. Someone to un-fuck me up. I want someone to fight for me. Just like the Kelly Clarkson song we both love so much. My Ex can't do that for me. And as much as I want him in my life, he will only ever be on the outskirts. Because I can't be consistently reminded of him wanting to be with me, but not bad enough to fight for it. And anyone who won't fight for me isn't worth my time.

And the same for you. You have been hurt over and over, especially by He who shall not be named. And you have wasted your heart on a man who doesn't care enough about you. You need someone, like I do, to pick up the pieces of your broken heart and put them back together again. 

I will fight for you. Die for you. Live and breathe for you. I care for you. 'Cause i will never leave. (notice Kelly Clarkson altered lyrics? ;) ) 

I will be there for you the day that one man comes along that will change your life for the better. And I will be there to see you two fall in love. And I will be there to see you get married. And I will see you grow old together. And we will both be happy again. I promise.

Love,

Keeyore

Commercials Kill Christmas!

Well the title kid of says it all. Come Black Friday every November there are countless Christmas commercials. I have several issues with this. The first is that it is so over done. I wouldn't be surprised if they just played the same exact commercials every year. We know it is the buying (or giving if you want to be cute) season. You don't need to tell us any more then usual to announce then inevitable decline of our bank accounts. And annoying us isn't going to help either of us. Why do the Christmas commercials have to be so damn obnoxious. The one with songs are the WORST. I mean, okay, if you have to play a Christmas-y jingle over the obnoxious commercial, then fine. But when they change the lyrics to Christmas songs I literally want to do one of two things: rip the radio/tv out of whatever source is playing it, whether its a car or a wall or what have you. Or rip my ears out of my head. You are killing Christmas with your blasphemous lyrics. You are not clever, you are not witty, you are annoying. And another thing, where are the Hanukkah commercials? Or the Kwanzaa commercials? Or the solstice commercials? Is it your goal to only annoy Christians? Jewish people can endure mass genocide, black people can endure racism, but Christians are forced to endure your horrid--HORRID-- commercials. I don't know what's worse (JUST KIDDING. I know commercials are not nearly as bad as genocide, it was a joke). Why can't you annoy other religions? I mean I could think of some really awful Hanukkah commercials that would rival some of the Christmas ones.

Okay that's my quick rant, spurred by a really bad radio commercial. It involved cheesy lyrics. It was awful.

Leaving Home and Never Looking Back

I was talking to two friends a couple days ago and they both said similar things. One said she was homesick as in she was "sick of her home" and the other said he had basically left home without looking back. I found this to be interesting because that is not how I feel. I am often homesick in the traditional sense and I always look forward to going home for the holidays (two days until Christmas break!). So although I choose Seattle for it's change of pace, I certainly picked Seattle for it's proximity to my home town and for it's other similar characteristics. I imagined I could make a home here, and I am certainly working on it. But going home is always fun and I think positively in regards to my home.

I think it speaks to the quality of my childhood. My parents, who no doubt are reading this, are probably pleased to hear that I think highly of their parenting styles. In many ways I think I would raise a child like my parents raised me. They were reasonable and forgiving as well as compassionate and nurturing. They wanted to give me the opportunities I wanted and that my intelligence allowed. They trusted me, and I think I earned that faith-- it was something we both worked on. And I trusted them. They always tried to be honest, but they also cared about my well being. This fostered both an endearing innocence and practical realism in me.

So there would be no reason for me to want to stray from that environment. There are times where I wish my childhood wasn't quite as awesome as it was. I think it gave me a bit of a peter pan complex-- I have always feared growing up, and straying from what I know, my childhood innocence. I also wish I did have a little more of that need to escape. I want to be adventurous, but when it comes to leaving what I know and love behind I trip on my way.
I suppose I am between a rock and a hard place.

But here's the thing, even though I have this fear of straying from home, I still do it. I have already taken my first steps as a world traveler, exploring France and Italy with my best friend this summer. Not many homebodies like me do that. And even though it was one of the hardest, most intense things I have ever done, I DID it.

And I didn't just go to school somewhere close to home. I left, and I'm going to one of the most prestigious public universities in the nation. I'm not going to the junior college in my town like my grandma wanted. I left my comfort zone to make a name for myself.

And now I'm looking at study abroad programs for junior year. I'm looking at places like Ireland and England and Italy and Greece! And it looks so exciting. Studying a semester or a year in Dublin?? Hell yeah! And so even though I'm scared shitless of having to go to school in another country, I'm going to do it.

Which is awesome. I've learned you can be scared and still DO the things that worry you. Don't be afraid of fear itself. Don't let fear stop you from doing what you want to do. Because I believe what you want to do with your life is the same as what you need to do with your life.

So maybe you can leave home AND look back. Because who you were affects who you are, and who you are will affect who you will be in the future. So embrace that, don't hide it. Look back, maybe you'll realize what you fine isn't so bad after all.

"Senses" An Experiment in Poetry

Why don't you stay awhile
Spend an afternoon with me
See my red soaked hands
Evidence of a guilt I was never meant to bear

Take the time to sit awhile
And hear my trodden tale of tears
Listen to my cracked voice tell
Of not so forgotten hurts that I still wear

Wait a minute while I remember
See if i can recall the stories
Memories you can almost taste
Of bitter ends and sweet remembrances

Pause a minute in your tracks
Your story begins where I left mine
Mine felt after years of pushing back
Because time heals only some wounds

And all you are left with is your common sense

I Didn't Come to College to Major in M.R.S. But While I'm Here...

There are definitely times where I want to find the one person I will spend the rest of my life with. I used to not really buy into that whole idea that “I date to marry”. That never really ever occurred to me, and once it did I just kind of figured I was far too young to need to worry about that. But a few things have occurred to me that have made me think that maybe it would nice to find Mr. Right.

One obvious thing is that in a year and a half from now I will be the same age my mom was when she met my dad. Now, many people may scoff and say that I am not my mom (although anyone who has met both of us might think that is a considerable possibility). And I agree, for the most part. However, she and my dad are the best example for a successful relationship that I have. I don’t really know how I’ll ever find as perfect a match as my parents did. AND they have a cute story of how they met. So I feel pressured, as uncalled for as that may or may not be. I want what my parents have. The undying passion that their love consists of. Steady, respectful, but goofy and fun. And knowing that this is when my mom met my dad—I can’t help to think I should be searching for that. My mom didn’t know when she was 20, the man she was dating would marry her, that she would raise a child with him, that she would spend more than half her life with him. But it happened to her and I want it to happen to me.

The second is… I don’t really know how to put it, now that I think of it... Well I’ll preface it with this epiphany I had yesterday. My friend is in this really, really steady relationship and she rarely sees the guy. But she is so patient about it because when she does, it’s this great, compatible relationship. And she knows that she might not see him for a month, six months, what have you, but he will always come back to her. She and him, they are in no rush. They know they have the rest of their lives to be together so why add pressure? Why push to see each other constantly? They are in no hurry. And I want that. A lot of the time, when I meet a guy or start dating a guy I want to spend all this time with him. I feel like “I got to take advantage of the time I have with him”. Part of that, was because for whatever reason I knew that however successful the relationship might be, we only had a limited time to be a couple. Specifically my two last boyfriends. When I was dating them I would think to myself, “I only have this year to be with them, until I leave for college”. So I wanted to take advantage of the little time I had with them. I think even subconsciously I feel like that. I’ve never had particularly long relationships with guys so when I do date them I think they will go away soon so I have to see them whenever I can. So the second thing I want is that feeling of permanence. Knowing that I don’t have to see him today, he’ll be there tomorrow. That I don’t have to see him this week, he’ll be there next week. I want to take things slow. I know that’s not what guys want to hear, and it’s not particularly what I’ve ever wanted but now, I don’t know, I do.

I want to be in control. I usually feel in control of my life. When I feel out of control I take certain steps to be more in control. For example, two years I seriously injured myself, in a way that made me lose my sense of control. Now I had limitations, especially physically, but also a little bit psychologically. I became depressed, anxious, and felt lonely—and that was because for the first time in my life I had no control of what happened to me. My fate lay in the hands of doctors, physical therapists, etc. I couldn’t do anything about the state I was in, I was stuck and I had to watch my physical health work itself out without my control. But I created control, actually with a lot of my writing. I wrote about it, and I wrote about how it affected me, and because I could understand it better through that, and because I could work through the psychological stuff through writing and I could kind of conceptualize it and make it more universal—then I gained more control.

That might seem like its unrelated, but it’s not. I feel like I am not in control when I am dating a guy. That’s why, as some of my dorm-mates have noticed, I am such a freak before I go out with a guy. I don’t feel like I have any control over the situation. And unlike the time where I got injured I gained control in the end, I never feel in control. We could be dating for months, we could be facebook official, we could be whispering sweet nothings to each other. I could genuinely be in lesbians with him (Scott Pilgram reference, please laugh) and he could say he’s in lesbians with me. I still feel lost. Like I’m floating in space or all the oxygen has been sucked out of my lungs or I’m being tossed around in the waves like sea foam. Like a leaf in the wind, like a branch floating down a river, I have no control over my fate. Like it’s all up to him.

And it is all up to him. It always has been. The three times I have been in a “strong” (“”=me being cynical, isn’t it becoming?) relationship with a man, I have been walked away from. It was like I was a thing in the store, they picked me up, looked me over, tried me out, and in the end decided I wasn’t worth buying. And they moved on. And the next customer comes along and it’s the same old story. I can’t do anything about it. I can’t. I am who I am, and I can’t pretend to be something else just so someone will decide to “buy” me. I’m not a salesman, I can’t sell myself. But I want so badly for someone to think I’m worth it.

Some people say “I want a lover not a fighter”. In response, I say to them, “I want a fighter FOR a lover”. I’m so tired of this passive shit. I can’t take anymore ambivalence towards my existence. Aren’t I worth fighting for?! Even a little? Even the guys I have rejected have let it go, they ask me out, they make a move, and I refuse them and they walk away without a second glance. And even though I didn’t want to be with them, part of ms (the selfish part) wanted them to be persistent. Who knows? Maybe if they had tried harder, put in a little more effort, I would’ve changed my mind. I may sound like a prepubescent middle-school girl but as Kelly Clarkson once said, “I want a man be my side, not a boy that runs and hides. Are you gunna fight for me? Die for me? Live and breathe for me? Cuz if you don’t then just leave”. And that’s what I want to say to men I meet. I want to know up from, am I worth your time? Cuz if I’m not, you’re not worth mine.