Adult != Coffee

I just reached a point in my life. A defining point. One I realize as I write this will be a day I look back on in the future as a marker for when something began. I told my wife yesterday “this coffee taste amazing”. And I didn’t mean in a, “I really need some coffee, any coffee for *insert what ever random reason here*. I meant it truly tasted amazing. I could tell the freshness and authenticity of how it tasted and it was euphoric. I was surprised.

I’d bought the coffee absentmindedly while looking for crystals in this new holistic shop, spotting it while waiting to checkout. I think I’d read somewhere earlier that day that mixing coffee with lemon juice could help burn stomach fat, plus we were almost out of k-cups. So I grabbed the plastic lined paper pouch, that had “Columbia” written over a white sticker label, and proceeded to checkout. Once home it was tucked away behind the near empty box of Green Mountain k-cups. And as predicted we ran out of k-cups. So out came “Columbia” and Boom went my mind. Guys I was like seriously happy. I could feel the happy. On top of that, I felt matured. I finally know the difference between shit diner coffee you drink because you’re cold, or hungover, or just needed something to shock you (even if it’s because it taste so bad) awake, I finally knew good fucking coffee when I tasted it. So I tell my wife….and she AGREES.

Now I know you’re thinking this is probably that defining moment this initial facebook status, turned full-out journal rant was about, but no. I knew she’d agree, we always agree. But while writing the FB status, I reflected on the moment a little longer and started to undress the urge to elaborate. So I began a note, which lead to a word document ultimately pasted here. I realized quite quickly that I needed to document this moment because I’m going to want to know when exactly I became alive.

I always drank coffee because it’s “supposed” to wake you up. Unfortunately, never did any cup of coffee keep me awake. If I can’t wake up, then waking up just isn’t an option in that moment. So coffee became the sidekick to my real morning helper, nicotine. Coffee and a cigarette has always seemed the epitome of adulthood to me. And at 19, I was as adult as they come. 9-5 job, dream car, apartment living, bills due. I’ve been sipping coffee in the morning my whole adult life. Drinking this coffee however made me really FEEL like an adult. A fully functioning, non dependent, emotionally healthy, alive adult. I finally felt those things. I didn’t think I would make it past 18. I tried to end it all at 21. By 25 I figured I was living on borrowed time, so YOLO right? I have lived 1,000 lives. I’v done embarrassingly pathetic things to TRY and feel alive. Now…I’m living. Fully living my life exactly how I want, and no it’s not perfect (cause no one is) but finally I FEEL alive. And if I’m being totally honest, it wasn’t the coffee. The coffee was just the catalyst. It was a location drop in my memory for me to one day reminisce where I started. To look at where I am now as a starting point of my future is the euphoria I felt.

However, it was some good fucking coffee.

Black Lines

The smudge of her charcoal eyeliner felt heavy on her hand. Shit she thought. What was the point?

Pretty faces blinked eyelashes full. Her mascara couldn’t do half. Highlighted cheek bones glowed golden peach. Only brittled scars from battle acne riddled her pores. Piling on concealer, layering walls covering tear streaks etched. Lips matted red, chipped teeth grinning because you’re never fully dressed without a smile she pushed. Head high, chin up beautiful because confidence is key. Show them who you want to be. Give that energy, poor out good. Let your hearts compass guide through life’s tries and never let your words go misunderstood.

That was the point she thought, wiping the charcoal from her hand. Keep going.

Hollow Relationships

This is an ode to the often misinterpreted loves.

To the friendships that seem deep and knowing, when really they’re just a tally of who’s done what so far. The friendships that at one time seemed close, but lately just exists. The ones who’ve turned their confidant into a sounding board, just someone to talk at rather than talk to. Those close friends who can no longer determine if they hate you or just the things you do.

A toast to the parents who should be loving an understanding, but instead have become judgemental and demanding. No longer wishing for your hopes and dreams, but envious of your “unearned” success. Cause you know….you had it easy because of them.

Oh and lets not forget those lovers of past and present. Those everlasting, never-ending, enduring, unconditional..you name it, loves. The ones who said they’d never hurt you, leave you or deceive you loves. The ones who smile in you’re face and tell  you “Everything’s Great“, loves. Those tricky, conniving ……..convince  you the relationships “thriving” loves. You fall asleep next to, but wake alone loves. The “hey I called you”oh “i didn’t mean to text YOU” loves. The “I love you” but I’m not in “LOVE” with you loves.

Hollow relationships are hard to identify till you look internally and realize you’re not whole. You may walk, talk, and motion through the movements……but are YOU really there. It’s just a shell. You’re saying what you think is right….but do you believe it. You’re reacting how you THINK you should, but do you feel it. Are you there? Sometime you don’t know it’s not reality. If you fake it long enough, it’s easier to swallow.  Don’t be hollow. Say what you mean. Show how you feel. Real love will endure.

How does one become a Famous Blogger?

I’m sure we’ve all wondered this at some point. How can I gather a dedicated following? How can I entice people with my thoughts? How do I get famous for my writing? No? Just me? Ok.

I’ve never subscribed to a blog. In fact, up until last year I didn’t even subscribe to channels on Youtube. I didn’t understand the purpose. Why would I want to be constantly updated about your make-up routine? Do I really need to follow you to Target? Is it my business that your 2yr old has stopped breast-feeding? Then one day I stumbled across this young man telling a story. A simple story about his first time dating outside his race. However, his story was so comically unreal I was hooked. I couldn’t wait to hear what happened next and when it ended I wanted to watch it again. So I did. Then I watched another video of him recanting his 12th birthday. Then another of him explaining why he still lived at home and before I knew it I had watched 10 of this mans videos. I understood now. Other’s lives can be interesting. So interesting in fact, that you feel the need to know almost daily what they’re up to. People who like you, work, live and play. People who understand your struggle to lose weight. They understand your frustration with Obama. They totally relate to taking it up the butt……they get you.

The phenomenon of vlogging has encompassed my generation. “World!! I must tell you, NO! Show you, what my life is like! Follow me as I……go to school” However blogging requires a bit more brain cells. Formulating a complete paragraph, in writing and letting the world read it takes balls. Getting people to like it…..that takes something else. Something I haven’t exactly found yet. In all honesty, I’m not even sure it’s something I really want. Should somebody be waiting with baited breath for me to tell them about how much I hate math? I feel like that’s a universal sentiment. But who knows, maybe I can spin it in a way you’ve yet to hear. For now I’ll continue to be the lazy un-famous blogger that you barely know and kinda like.

30 Jun 2016

I have a test at 1….. I didn’t study. Not so much because I don’t care, but because I believe in the depths of my soul that studying is counter productive. Yes, sounds lazy I know. However I’ve come to realize that I remember a lot of stuff, stuff I don’t even mean to remember half the time. The problem is recalling it on que. I can remember the name of the perfume the lady at Sephora recommended to me 2 months ago, but the 3 P’s of productivity? I either know them or I don’t. In this case I don’t, more importantly I don’t want to. If I had wasted 20 mins of my life studying the 3 P’s of productivity I would’ve never seen my puppy chase her tail for the first time. Those 3 P’s would’ve taken a precious memory from me…..damn those 3 P’s. And what the hell are the 3 P’s going to do for me in the long run, honestly? If I haven’t been productive before this point in my life, is suddenly being aware of the 3 P’s going to improve that probability? Probably not. Phuck the P’s.

P.S. The 3 P’s are positivity, performance, and precision

P.S.S…… I just made those up…..they sound good though, right? 🙂

I can do ANYTHING better than you (or at least give me the option too) Part 1

“Anything you can do, I can do better” I loved that song as a kid. Never did I imagine as an adult I would find myself repeating it silently in my head almost daily. Women’s equality has always been an issue in the world….the big wide all-consuming world. But I didn’t think it applied to my small world. You see I’m employed by a male dominated work force. It’s a fact that’s painfully obvious. Us girls make up about 14%. However for the past 6 years my office has been equally mixed, or dominantly female. I was living in a small secure bubble that was about to be popped into obscurity. 6 months ago I moved to a new section. Ecstatic about having job growth and new experiences, the fact that I was going to be working with 9 men didn’t seem important. That was my first misconception of many. I’ve always had the assumption that my employer only hired educated, progressive, and cultured (or those capable of one day gaining these attributes) individuals. That, I’ve found is not nearly the case. Upon my first week of work, while slowly acquiring tools needed to accomplish my daily task, I was advised not to “feminize” my area. Actually I was jokingly (not joking) told not to “hang a bunch of girly $h!t”, followed by a course of laughter. Naturally I immediately went out after work and bought the most girlish décor I could think of at the time. Am I into girly things? Sure I’m a woman, I like pretty things. However I have never in my 7 years of employment purposely decorated my area with any specific girlish décor. I didn’t even have my bedroom decorated. My cubicle now looks like Tinker Bell and her fairy friends dumped steaming piles of fairy dust and friendship on it, just for the enjoyment of my fellow coworkers. Do I like Tinker Bell? Sure I occasionally watched Tink and her friends with my 5 yr old daughter; she makes some very good points about sharing and caring. My purpose for utilizing her though was not for my love of all things fairy, but I’m almost 100% sure no one else in this office was told not to hang “girly $h!t”. In hindsight, if I had thought this through (as my husband suggested as I stormed through Target filling my cart with anything pink, purple or periwinkle) I would have realized I have to sit here not them. It does amuse me however when upper management (all male) walks through with furrowed eyebrows because it looks like a legit fairy princess lives in my cubicle. They never say anything, just stare then advert their eyes when I make eye contact……