Sleeping Beauty

Have you ever noticed that once in a while life seems like a novel or a cinematic caper? It's times like these that knock my head out of the clouds and send me plummeting back to our little, blue planet. So why am I so distracted?

I will chalk it up to misplaced importance of minor details.

So here I am, one of billions, placed on planet Earth which is merely a speck in the sky; a tiny cross-section of an unfathomable forever of stars and stardust. So what?

Who cares about some poet on a bar stool? Who cares about some chick slinging beer and the occasional feature article? I say that as though the words sling carelessly from mind to Microsoft Word, which is not the case, fortunately.

So how careless are our lives and how short is our visit on this planet?

I am the eternal multi-tasker, but I've come to the conclusion that it's not what you do, it's what you do effectively. Sure, I can make drinks, write, and take pictures...

..but how good am I, really?

It's like trying to talk on the phone while you are eating, watching TV and writing a paper..something is going to get lost in translation or you will choke on your yummy sugar-free chocolate truffles in the process.

So much is lost in translation and the confusion is rooted in concentration of thought. If your energy is scattered, your thoughts will be too and that confusion will resonate in your communication. Also, your scatter-brained self will no more know how to tie your shoelaces than calculate algorithms. So what's my name again?

So, I start tomorrow knowing I am a novice and knowing that I am no more than a bag of bones, a mass of carbon-based matter until I can concentrate my energies on something more than the life I thought I wanted, the life validated by someone or something else. It's like asking someone to place value on a lily. It's beautiful and delicate, but what can you say about it, really?

So, we need to be persons of conscience and substance.

So, are we mavericks? No. Are we particularly different than those who have gone before? No.

Like everyone, I've first blamed my parents, then blamed my society, blamed my world, blamed the media, blamed boys, blamed everyone else but the person who was really to blame...

..me.

So this is the story of someone who can finally look at herself in the mirror. This is the story of a girl.

This isn't a fairytale.

Have you ever read the original Grimm's fairy tales? It's more like that. The stories you heard in youth were a watered-down version of the original. I guess that's life, huh? Check it out someday. They are pretty cool. It's not always a happily ever-after and the plot is a little messier along the way, but doesn't that make it all the more beautiful when it comes to the climax?

So, I've realized lately that I have some explaining to do...mostly to myself. You're probably wondering how a girl can graduate with honors and still be a complete idiot. It's mostly about awareness.

I'm beginning to wake up.

Love is a Smorgasbord

The Lonely Genius

All so real
Tangible
Reachable
Plausible...
Yanked away
Taken back
Discounted
And debunked
And I sigh
and wonder
Where logic
And love meet
..If ever

To Love and Lose

“Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same, and is as different as a moonbeam from lightning, or frost from fire”. --Emily Bronte. "Wuthering Heights."

Unrequited love is like having dinner at your favorite restaurant but not touching your favorite dish. It's like going to Disneyland and standing just outside the gates, smelling the overpriced concession food and hearing cries of mirth. It's like Christmas morning when you open your presents, only to find that you didn't get your Easy Bake Oven..I wanted one of those so bad and never got one. I suppose this sparked my early obsession with the culinary arts...but I digress.

..It's the nearly reachable, nearly-within grasp feeling, followed by disappointment and the subsequent carb and drinking binges.

So then there was the last of my loves..and one that when I fell, I nearly got a concussion...so to speak. When I fell for him, I was knocked senseless.

So how do intelligent, independent women fall for this? How do we fall in love and why do we call it falling?

Falling

I believe we call it falling because there is something of an illusion and smoke-in-mirrors in the beginning. There is a bit of trickery behind a sly smile, a wink, a touch.

So why are we so beguiled by a wink and a smile?

I mean, I'm a pretty savvy gal, but I get weak in the knees like anyone else. So what sleight of hand steals our hearts? What cruel twist of fate makes it untouchable?

Perhaps it's the romanticization of relationships and that crazy propaganda that's been going on for centuries that tells us that it's gonna be mind-blowing, all-encompassing, pee-your-pants perfect. This goes for both sides of the coin. Since both men and women seek perfection, little will be satisfying for long. It's like eating a good meal. You're really into it until you're full.

..but that's not love; going meal to meal.

Perhaps love is like a smorgasbord you never get bored of...

Food for thought.


Reading: Depressing love story quotes

Listening to: Wilco

Life: It Flutters By

I'm not one to take inspiration in the form of dead insect carcasses, usually..but this week is different.

A little girl laid a dead butterfly on my bar and I was reminded of what I learned about butterflies in elementary school.

http://www.monarch-butterfly.com/

Life is short, sis, you gotta wing it!

So the monarch butterfly's life cycle is only 8 weeks, with exception to the fourth generation, which lives an additional four months, migrates to Mexico and finds a mate.

Okay.

So wouldn't you feel really gypped if you were generation three, breathing you little butterfly death rattle when your little butterfly niece gets to fly to Mexico, live more than twice as long as you, find herself a Latin lover and migrate north to continue the family name?

So I guess this applies to humans, too...

Live Life Like You've Got 6 Weeks to Live
My newest mission in life is Mission Monarch, which means living life like I've got six weeks to live.

I think this is pretty reasonable.

I mean, you never know when you're gonna be kicked off the island or be extracted from your mortal coil, right? So why deal with bullshit? YOU DON'T HAVE TIME FOR BULLSHIT...EVER.

So, here are my rules...

Your Mission, if you Choose to Accept it...

1. If you ever think, "I don't have time for this," don't do it! It's a waste of your time.
2. Don't waste your time with obligatory social engagements that will bore you to tears and cost you money. I mean, if you are in your best friend's wedding, sure. That's pretty important, but, if the thought of your ex's new fiance's wedding breaks you into hives, don't go. Someone else can sit at the single's table, get way too drunk and make an ass of themselves...
3. Don't let them walk all over you. If you don't respect yourself, sis, no one else will. So tell that really hot guy that won't tell any of his friends you have been doin' the nasty for a whole year to go screw himself. On the other hand, be nice and keep his number..just hold out for something better.
4. Take risks. C'mon, lady, you're only on this mortal coil for a limited-time engagement. Get on it! If you really want something, make it happen. I'm not saying that you should tell every tall, dark and handsome, "Is that a heat-seeking missile in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?" But you know...How many times have you regretted not saying anything? Think about 7th grade, senior year in high school, that hot guy in your college poetry class...
5. It's not all about what they want you to be about. SO..break the rules! Wear white after labor day, ignore the TV and celebrity gossip, eat chocolate for breakfast, be single by choice, don't have kids (or do, but name them something really cool and teach them to play the ukulele)...The only expectations in life should be your own and it's better not to have them.
6. Do something crazy. I don't mean something that they may actually put you in the loony bin for, but do something outrageous every once in a while! I want to go sky diving (and I'm totally-shit-my-pants-scared of heights, but I'll do it when I've got money and a pair of adult diapers on.)
7. Watch this..http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bi2pBZGJqj8
8. Call your grandmother. She'll tell you "like it is" and you've only got her for a little while.
9. Be kind.
10. Sing at the top of your lungs, be the first on the dance floor, eat dessert first, don't dessert your friends and always have a good attitude..because it's all about your attitude.

Watching: Random Youtube music videos

Listening to: "Do You Love Me" by Guster

Reading: Charles Bukowski poems

Prince Charming Global Positioning System

Society emphasizes the importance of coupling up. So what is the perfect pairing and how do we know? I've kissed enough frogs, so I'm content sitting this year out on the bench while everyone else plays the field..but who is Prince Charming and how do you hone your internal PCGPS (Prince Charming Global Positioning System)?

Let's explore some theories, y'all.

Knight in Shining Armor Theory
You gals know this is bullshit just as well as I do. If you can't get yourself out of a jam, some guy on a white horse isn't gonna save your ass. Plus, once you are riding off into the sunset, he may give you an aside like, "Ummmm...I'm still with someone, but we're breaking up...", or "So I can crash at your place, right? I've got my toothbrush in the saddlebag."

Just because a guy rushes in to save the day, doesn't make him Mr. Right. It just means he has good timing.

Kiss Enough Frogs Theory
Okay, so this is what every mom tells their daughter when she is drowning in a pool of her own snot, consuming an entire pint of Haagan Daaz and has her keys in hand to run to the store for pint two. Drop the Daaz, sis. Mom may be partially right on this one; however, it's totally cool not to kiss the frogs.

I mean, wouldn't your life have been easier if you figured out two weeks into your relationship with that artist guy that he was sucking you dry of emotion and money. It would have saved you several hundred dollars, months of feeling sorry for yourself and the subsequent pity pounds you put on. Keep your skinny jeans. Keep your girls night out. Lose the losers.

Field of Dreams Theory
This one's pretty common, too. Remember "Field of Dreams?" "When you build it, they will come?"

So I get this one a lot from happily-marrieds or from friends or from dad. When the time is right, they'll just show up.

Okay, what kinda Houdini sorta soul mate am I in for, huh? Isn't that kinda creepy? What? Is he watching me? Seeing if I'm ready?

*Cut to:
Kara in the brand-new office of a brand-new job. She is surrounded by puppies and kittens and has whittled her waist to a size 3.

Enter Houdini Soulmate in a puff of smoke with cool sound effects.

Kara: Who the hell are you and where did you come from?

Houdini: Don't be so hostile, sis. I'm the man of your dreams.

Kara: Really? Where's your apron and spatula? Do you have a massage license? I thought I told God when I was 5 that you would be a bit taller and bring ice cream.

Houdini: Okay, I'll go to the store. What's your favorite?

Kara: Aren't you just supposed to know? Geez? Do I have to do all the work? I think you should leave. I've got a lot of work to do and the cloud of smoke that you hopped out of is freaking out the puppies and kittens.

*Houdini disappears in another cloud of smoke.

So, what I'm trying to illustrate here is that even if the timing is perfect and the guy seems perfect, we are all skeptics and sometimes have unrealistic expectations.

My Theory: The Comfy Blanket Theory
So I have this theory that when I find it, it will feel like home. It will feel comfortable, natural, easy. To expand upon this theory, I think it applies to all aspects of my life. When it's right, it will seem like I made it home.

So do we find our home? Do we make a home? Who knows. I'm too obsessed with tweaking recipes right now to worry. Gazpacho, anyone?


Listening to: "Polyester Bride" Liz Phair and "Borne on the FM Radio Waves of the Heart" Against Me!

Watching: "500 Days of Summer"

Reading: Random photo publications and my own horoscope

A Love Letter to Myself

We just wrapped a Love Letter to Myself, a Jesse Gilstrap film. I had never been involved in film and had never acted, but fell in love with it. In the process, I fell in love with Isabel, my character. Isabel is in a long term relationship with Peter, a manchild who is emotionally unavailable and views Izzy as an object rather than appreciating her for her best qualities within. Jesse said I reminded him of Izzy. After wrapping, I realize that he was right. I am Izzy. Those who know me well know that a similar struggle has shaded my past relationships, for the most part.

I also realized that I am also a lot like Jack, who is a truth-seeker, a man who searches for answers and identity in several different ways, only to find that the truth was staring him in the face. He's always running; propelled toward some unknown destination. He wrestles with himself--his views of religion, relationships, sex and friendship.

There are no spoilers here, only my own admissions about myself.

Within these truths, I found clarity and a bit of peace. So I decided to take interference and ambiguity out of my equation. I have decided to take a step back, delve deep and focus on introspection. In order to do this, I have to eliminate many things from my life. My first step is a difficult one; no boys for an entire year. I will not give my love away. I have to focus all that energy on my own life and love myself. That's not to say that I won't love. I love my friends and family and they are my always in my heart. I am saying that I will not lose focus of who I am or where I am going. I cannot cross paths with another and lose sight of my own journey.

What next? I have no idea. I will simplify my life. I will hone my abilities. I will rediscover what I love about myself and become more of what I love than what I feel obligated to be.

So who are we, really, after we cut out all the bullshit? What is it that lies beneath the realm of expectation and mainstream propaganda? I guess that is my journey and I am going to write about it. Perhaps you will follow along. Perhaps you will begin your own journey. Perhaps you are already at your destination, but I'm pretty sure that no one ever gets there. It's the yearning, the striving, the listening, the observation, the introspection and the wise words of poets and prophets.

Elizabeth Bishop wrote, in her poem "One Art", "The art of losing isn't hard to master. Most things seem filled with intent. To be lost, their loss is no disaster."

So, I'm gonna start to lose. I'll lose the things that don't matter.


Listening to: "Sky Blue Sky," the album by Wilco

Reading: random poetry (but have added "Eat Pray Love" to my reading list.)

Watching: Love Letter to Myself

Mantra: I am a mirror to the world