STORIES, STORIES

I got plans, and they're gonna happen. There are obstacles, and they beat me up, but I learn to love the things I hate. I hate my job, but this hate makes me love the things I love to do all the more, like photography, like writing, or just hanging out with my friends after work and nerding out, or spending hours on the phone with The Boys. I hate people who talk to me like I'm nothing but shit, like I don't deserve the tiniest bit of Nice. But I am nice to others because of these people. They remind me that I don't want to be like them, and that I am not any better than anyone, so that I am careful about the way I talk to others and the things I say to them. Verbal abuse breaks people, and in the same way that we don't condone physical abuse, we should always be careful about how our words reach those we talk to. I hate Facebook. It serves as a constant reminder of what and how much I am missing. I see people my age living lives I thought I would be living myself a...

While reading one of my favorite writers talk about their work and the support they get from their loved ones in such an eloquent, beautiful written voice, I realized something. What some of the greatest, some of my most favorite, artists have in common is this support they get. Their work is beautiful, and they resound and stay with me long after I have experienced them. They inspire more beauty in art, in words, in others, and they quickly and effectively "pay it forward". What makes them so successful? It is that Support. It is their muse, their inspiration, all the encouragement they need. Inspired work could be one of the best things that any artist can produce. Who supports you?

There are way too many things that I don't understand about You. Or This. Or Why. Or How Come. Or When Exactly. Or What Happened. Or Who Happened. Or Me. Or Why Me. Or then again, Why Not Me. Or, again, and again once more, WHY . You know?

One of the major causes of fire is leaving the stove on. Don't leave it on if you think you're gonna be distracted by a phone call, or the television, or whatever. And especially don't leave it on right before bed coz you just might forget to turn it off, go to sleep and then wake up dead. This happened to me just now. The stove-top fire part, not the redundancy of waking up dead. Thankfully, I managed to do what needed to be done as soon as I discovered the smoke that was steadily and very quickly taking over our apartment, coz I'm just fucking kickass like that. It's tough to act when there's an emergency like this one, especially stove-top fires, because our instinctive reactions are usually wrong. Here are some quick tips that might come in handy in the future. 1) If it's a grease/oil fire on the stove, in a pan or a pot or whatever, don't put it out with water. Water would only make it worse. If it's a small fire contained in the pan, try to smo...

Sometimes, I have moods that occur simultaneously. 1) Sometimes, I feel loved. This is S's cat Boobi. We're not very friendly. She stays out of my way, I stay out of hers. But every once in a while, she spends time with me and we share a nice moment without my having to call or coax her. It's moments like these that I know she loves me for who I am, a crazy lady who blogs about things like sharing moments with cats. It doesn't matter what everyone sees or thinks, that cat loves me. Sometimes, people are like that. They don't have the ability to speak their minds, they don't know how to act, they don't know what to say, but they know how to enjoy nice moments. 2) Sometimes, I have moods like this quote: Love is a temporary madness. It erupts like an earthquake and then subsides. And when it subsides, you have to make a decision. You have to work out whether your roots have become so entwined together that it is inconceivable that you should ever part. Moods w...

"I swear to god, my parents drive me nuts." "At least your parents don't meddle with your affairs." "At least you're married. They don't nag you about being single." "At least you're single! You can enjoy this freedom." "What freedom? At least you can travel." "So what if I can travel? At least you don't have to worry about in-laws." "In-laws are nothing. Try dealing with siblings." "At least your siblings are family. There isn't that much pressure." "Not if you're overweight. Try THAT pressure." "Look, some people can't even eat. That's not a problem. At least you have food on the table. Try not having money." "I DON'T have money. At least you're pretty. No one cares about your (lack of) money if you're pretty." "Tell that to my selfish husband." "At least you're married." It's not a competition. Every...

I used to think that the differences between people are what makes things exciting. Quirky little differences that were cute and romantic in the beginning, that you can laugh about all the time, present past or future. Differences didn't matter because there is always that one constant that keeps you both in the same level. The strength of Fart Jokes as a common denominator is questionable. It doesn't, and possibly never will, trump Physical Proximity. That's why friendships drift off to Something Awkward at best, and Nothing at worst. The next step, as always, is to move on. Why suffer all the unanswered questions? Fart Jokes aren't worth fighting for. You can't wake up each day with a renewed resolve to get through a relationship based solely on fart jokes. You can't waddle through the glaring cultural, financial, personal, political, emotional, literal, logical, psychological and physical differences and take all those nasty blows just to get to Fart Jokes. A...

It's always awkward to ask my mom to take pictures of me (to put as my profile picture on Facebook, of course, what else are pictures for) because she always does the old school "Okay, now pose" right after she comes over and fixes my fringe and tucks my hair into my ears like she always did for our graduation photos back in grade school. I try to explain to her that no, I want it to look spontaneous, almost like a stolen shot, you know? So that my friends on Facebook don't make fun of me? "Why would your friends make fun of you?" "Coz it's stupid to have pictures looking all formal and shit." "Fine, do your own pose." So I throw up what I think to be a gang sign, because I've always been awkward about having my picture taken to begin with, and doing some kind of satirical 7arakat has always made me feel less awkward about it. And then I make what I think to be a silly face, part winking, part I-dunno-what. And since I also happen...

Apparently, the darker my hair color, the tanner I look. You all remember India Arie's song, right? This one? I have to say, though, I AM my hair. I am especially my hair when it seems to be at the height of perfection right before I go to bed, when no one sees it. Also, India Arie is just so awesome.

It's funny when you overhear people talking about you, or the things you do. It's funnier still when you put yourself out there; there is no room for going home and crying about the negative things that people say about you. Sure, there is room for cringing. But people will always talk. And sure, you can listen. And sure, you can pick the people you put in your circle of trust: the people whose opinions you take to heart. But they can't be ALL the people who talk about you. There should only be a select few. And no, the people you trust don't always say the best things. But they sure as hell should say nice things about you. And if they never say nice things about you? Maybe you've chosen to trust the wrong people. So who are your people?