Last night I dreamt I was in some amazing Old World European country where I had to climb over the roofs of buildings and move this huge block of cement in order to shimmy into this dark cavern that led to the best party I'd ever been to.
Don't be jealous of my imagination.
So, that was pretty cool. But during the dream, I got drunk. Like really, really, rip-roaring drunk. Off whiskey sours. Is it even possible to get that drunk off whiskey sours??? Anywho... I was drunker than I've ever come anywhere close to being in real life (which really wouldn't be that difficult seeing as how I've only ever been drunk like twice in my life). And that would have been cool too, except that when I woke up my first thoughts were getting that drunk sounds like a really good idea. I wish I could get that drunk right now.
That scared me.
Then I went and weighed myself and I had gained an additional 2.5lbs from the 1lb I gained last week, putting me up from my low of 189 back to 192.5 and I didn't even have the capacity to be upset. I just laughed because WHAT THE FUCK. Even though I do yoga regularly and I just ran somewhere near a 12 minute mile (a whole mile! Without stopping!) for the first time, I still gained weight. But I just didn't have it in me to be upset about it.
That concerned me.
And I had this job interview that I think (thought?) went well, so I sent them my references and a writing sample two weeks ago at their request, and then I got a call from the firm on Monday saying that my information had mistakenly not been sent to the hiring partner and he wouldn't have a chance to look at it until Thursday. Which means he probably won't make a decision until next week. Which means my Christmas wish for a job won't come true, and I'll have to return this gorgeous dress I bought (being confident that I would have a job in the near future... that was probably a really dumb move) in order to pay my bills.
Not so much fun.
The other day I decided I needed to stop watching Lifetime/Oxygen/ABC Family Christmas romance movies because they all have happy endings and I'm currently living through a demonstrably non-happy ending, especially in regards to my completely, utterly, not even a little bit existent love life. Same goes for romance books, which if you know me, is basically like me telling you I'm going to start hanging around with rich, White, conservatives for fun. Shit makes no sense. And yet, I'm actually gonna stop. The book I previewed on Amazon last night about vaginas and other gynecological concerns (google pelvic prolapse. Please.) was pretty interesting. So, with all that said...
I think I'm depressed.
S.
Showing posts with label life is hard. Show all posts
Showing posts with label life is hard. Show all posts
Wednesday, December 14, 2011
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
A Prayer
Dear God,
Thank you. Thank you for carrying me this far, for knowing my heart, and for accepting me as I am. I have my life, my health, my family, and my friends, and I am so incredibly thankful for it all.
But God, I'm scared.
I feel so... stuck. I have no idea where to go from here. I've done everything expected of me, everything I set out to do, so why do I still feel so unsure of myself? Of my abilities? Of my place in the world? I expected to end this chapter of my life in a completely different space than I'm in right now... nothing's as I thought it would be. What is my purpose? My friends are out to change the world, and I'm just trying to find something I won't hate doing everyday for the next few years. At 25, I thought the world would be my oyster, but instead I'm sitting on my mother's couch, nothing to do, terrified all I have in front of me is a sea of days just like this one and the one before it. I can't think of anything that excites me career-wise, and although I say it in a joking manner, it kills me every time someone asks me what field I'm looking to get into and my response is "one that pays" or "I'm still trying to figure out what I want to be when I grow up."
Lord, I don't want to joke about that. I want to be able to say confidently and assuredly that I am interested in X, Y, and Z. I've always had a plan, always had a mission, and it kills me every day that I seem to be standing at the precipice of a cliff with no where to go and no way to get there.
So God, this is my prayer.
Lord, please don't let me be afraid to step out on faith. Don't let me be so full of fear and apprehension that I miss out on the signs you put right in front of me. Let me have faith in myself and more faith that you will work things out as they should be. Let me not be afraid to fail. If I fail, Lord let me have the strength to try again. Lord, let me open my heart and my mind to all the opportunities available to me, even if they seem completely out of line with what I've taught myself I should want. Let me not be afraid to try new things, and let my fear be a motivator instead of a hindrance. Lord, help me to remember that my friends want only the best for me, and that I should rejoice in their successes, not take it as a personal affront against my own abilities.
Finally Lord, please help me to remember that everything happens when it is supposed to happen. Help me to remember that good things come to those who wait. Even when I don't understand the timeline, help me to remember that it will be OK, and I am meant to learn something every day of this experience. Lord, please just... help.
Amen.
Thank you. Thank you for carrying me this far, for knowing my heart, and for accepting me as I am. I have my life, my health, my family, and my friends, and I am so incredibly thankful for it all.
But God, I'm scared.
I feel so... stuck. I have no idea where to go from here. I've done everything expected of me, everything I set out to do, so why do I still feel so unsure of myself? Of my abilities? Of my place in the world? I expected to end this chapter of my life in a completely different space than I'm in right now... nothing's as I thought it would be. What is my purpose? My friends are out to change the world, and I'm just trying to find something I won't hate doing everyday for the next few years. At 25, I thought the world would be my oyster, but instead I'm sitting on my mother's couch, nothing to do, terrified all I have in front of me is a sea of days just like this one and the one before it. I can't think of anything that excites me career-wise, and although I say it in a joking manner, it kills me every time someone asks me what field I'm looking to get into and my response is "one that pays" or "I'm still trying to figure out what I want to be when I grow up."
Lord, I don't want to joke about that. I want to be able to say confidently and assuredly that I am interested in X, Y, and Z. I've always had a plan, always had a mission, and it kills me every day that I seem to be standing at the precipice of a cliff with no where to go and no way to get there.
So God, this is my prayer.
Lord, please don't let me be afraid to step out on faith. Don't let me be so full of fear and apprehension that I miss out on the signs you put right in front of me. Let me have faith in myself and more faith that you will work things out as they should be. Let me not be afraid to fail. If I fail, Lord let me have the strength to try again. Lord, let me open my heart and my mind to all the opportunities available to me, even if they seem completely out of line with what I've taught myself I should want. Let me not be afraid to try new things, and let my fear be a motivator instead of a hindrance. Lord, help me to remember that my friends want only the best for me, and that I should rejoice in their successes, not take it as a personal affront against my own abilities.
Finally Lord, please help me to remember that everything happens when it is supposed to happen. Help me to remember that good things come to those who wait. Even when I don't understand the timeline, help me to remember that it will be OK, and I am meant to learn something every day of this experience. Lord, please just... help.
Amen.
Friday, March 25, 2011
Self Esteem Issues
I'm lonely.
It's hard for me to admit this, because I know I'm supposed to be young and carefree, and having the time of my life Sex in the City style. But I'm not. I'm lonesome. I like being in a relationship--or at least my idea of an ideal relationship. Not that I've been in anything resembling my idea of an ideal relationship. I've had three boyfriends and never held hands out in public. Something seems wrong with that, doesn't it? Anyway, I digress... I like having someone to call or text just to say hi or have a random stream of consciousness conversation with, or share an inside joke that really shouldn't be funny anymore but for some inexplicable reason still cracks us up. But I don't have that.
Haven't had it for two years.
For two full years 25 months if you want to be specific, I've been utterly single. No boyfriend, no significant other, no "or something" (Q: is that your boyfriend or something? A: yeah... or something) no dates, no hookups (do black people hookup?) no kisses, no cuddles, no... nothing. Just me. And my thoughts. Which is bad, because my thoughts lead me to ugly, self-defeating places I don't like to go. Which is why I'm up right now at 1:03 a.m. writing this instead of sleeping peaceful in my bed.
Sometimes I think I'm "the Ugly Friend".
I'm sure you know how people always joke about there being one unattractive girl in each group of friends; there was even a Twitter trending topic about it a few months back. I find myself trying to take an unbiased look at myself and figure out where I really fall on the scale of attractiveness. Because there's got to be a reason that I haven't even be seriously approached by a guy in the last two years, right? Especially in DC where so many other young women seem to be having the time of their dating lives. So what else could it be? I know I'm tall, and maybe that accounts for some of it--especially in DC where there seems to be a strictly enforced height maximum of 5'10 for all men---but that can't be the determining factor, can it?
So maybe my standards are unrealistic. I mean, I look in the mirror and after critical assessment think that on a scale of 1-10, ten being Halle Berry, I'm a solid seven. I don't think that's giving myself too much credit. I have pretty nice cheekbones. And my smile gets lots of compliments, even if it is slightly gummy. But seven is above average, right? And above average women don't go on two year long dry spells. So maybe I'm not as unbiased as I purport to be. Maybe I'm more like a five. And as such, I should proportionally lower my personal "he's cute enough to give some time to" scale. Because people generally end up with people who are equal on the attractiveness scale, right?
When I was in middle school, there was a girl that all the boys liked. All of them. To this day, she's still just as gorgeous. Anyway, I remember looking at her and thinking to myself, "man, I wonder what's it like to walk into a room and have everyone there wanna get with you". Must be daunting and exhilarating and empowering all at the same time. I'm envious of people who know what that feels like.
Remember when you were in high school, maybe middle school, and you would put on your cutest outfit and cruise the mall or hang out at the movies and get hit on by little knuckleheads whose pants were too big and shirts were too long and wore sweatbands around their wrists because it was cool? And you would give them your number because, why not?
I don't remember that. It never happened to me.
No little knucklehead ever asked for my number at the mall, or the movies, or the Auto Show, or the State Fair.
Maybe that screwed me up and now I'm so unused to dealing with men that even if I am getting hit on or I can't even see it. Wouldn't that be tragic?
Remember when you were in college, and you'd go to the club with your three best girls because you'd just finished finals and you were desperate to blow off steam? And your faaaaaavorite song with the thumping bass would come on and you'd all run to the dance floor en masse because all the guys would be at the bar trying to swindle drinks out the bartender even though they were underage and you just couldn't wait for them? So you and your girls would dance and laugh and before you knew it there was a guy dancing with you, and your friend, and your friend over there?
I was always the girl left dancing by herself, trying to remember why I liked that damn song so much to begin with anyway. But maybe I'm just a bad dancer.
Sooo, yeah. I promise I'm not looking for sympathy or anything like that. But I said this blog was to keep me honest so... this is me. It's my pity party, I'll cry if I want to.
S.
It's hard for me to admit this, because I know I'm supposed to be young and carefree, and having the time of my life Sex in the City style. But I'm not. I'm lonesome. I like being in a relationship--or at least my idea of an ideal relationship. Not that I've been in anything resembling my idea of an ideal relationship. I've had three boyfriends and never held hands out in public. Something seems wrong with that, doesn't it? Anyway, I digress... I like having someone to call or text just to say hi or have a random stream of consciousness conversation with, or share an inside joke that really shouldn't be funny anymore but for some inexplicable reason still cracks us up. But I don't have that.
Haven't had it for two years.
For two full years 25 months if you want to be specific, I've been utterly single. No boyfriend, no significant other, no "or something" (Q: is that your boyfriend or something? A: yeah... or something) no dates, no hookups (do black people hookup?) no kisses, no cuddles, no... nothing. Just me. And my thoughts. Which is bad, because my thoughts lead me to ugly, self-defeating places I don't like to go. Which is why I'm up right now at 1:03 a.m. writing this instead of sleeping peaceful in my bed.
Sometimes I think I'm "the Ugly Friend".
I'm sure you know how people always joke about there being one unattractive girl in each group of friends; there was even a Twitter trending topic about it a few months back. I find myself trying to take an unbiased look at myself and figure out where I really fall on the scale of attractiveness. Because there's got to be a reason that I haven't even be seriously approached by a guy in the last two years, right? Especially in DC where so many other young women seem to be having the time of their dating lives. So what else could it be? I know I'm tall, and maybe that accounts for some of it--especially in DC where there seems to be a strictly enforced height maximum of 5'10 for all men---but that can't be the determining factor, can it?
So maybe my standards are unrealistic. I mean, I look in the mirror and after critical assessment think that on a scale of 1-10, ten being Halle Berry, I'm a solid seven. I don't think that's giving myself too much credit. I have pretty nice cheekbones. And my smile gets lots of compliments, even if it is slightly gummy. But seven is above average, right? And above average women don't go on two year long dry spells. So maybe I'm not as unbiased as I purport to be. Maybe I'm more like a five. And as such, I should proportionally lower my personal "he's cute enough to give some time to" scale. Because people generally end up with people who are equal on the attractiveness scale, right?
When I was in middle school, there was a girl that all the boys liked. All of them. To this day, she's still just as gorgeous. Anyway, I remember looking at her and thinking to myself, "man, I wonder what's it like to walk into a room and have everyone there wanna get with you". Must be daunting and exhilarating and empowering all at the same time. I'm envious of people who know what that feels like.
Remember when you were in high school, maybe middle school, and you would put on your cutest outfit and cruise the mall or hang out at the movies and get hit on by little knuckleheads whose pants were too big and shirts were too long and wore sweatbands around their wrists because it was cool? And you would give them your number because, why not?
I don't remember that. It never happened to me.
No little knucklehead ever asked for my number at the mall, or the movies, or the Auto Show, or the State Fair.
Maybe that screwed me up and now I'm so unused to dealing with men that even if I am getting hit on or I can't even see it. Wouldn't that be tragic?
Remember when you were in college, and you'd go to the club with your three best girls because you'd just finished finals and you were desperate to blow off steam? And your faaaaaavorite song with the thumping bass would come on and you'd all run to the dance floor en masse because all the guys would be at the bar trying to swindle drinks out the bartender even though they were underage and you just couldn't wait for them? So you and your girls would dance and laugh and before you knew it there was a guy dancing with you, and your friend, and your friend over there?
I was always the girl left dancing by herself, trying to remember why I liked that damn song so much to begin with anyway. But maybe I'm just a bad dancer.
Sooo, yeah. I promise I'm not looking for sympathy or anything like that. But I said this blog was to keep me honest so... this is me. It's my pity party, I'll cry if I want to.
S.
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
I Don't Wanna Grow Up, I'm a Toys "R" Us Kid
No, that's not correct.
I definitely want to grow up. I am tired of going to school, tired of reading for school, tired of my Christmases marked by a period of extreme and irrational stress otherwise known as finals, and tired of my birthday being celebrated by a moment of euphoria for having survived another year, followed by an immediate crash back to Earth as I resume studying. Also, I've said it before and I'll say it again--law students are an odd bunch. The less time I spend around them, the better. Clearly I am the exception to the rule.
So no, I definitely don't not want to grow up.
What I do want, is to know what I want to be when I grow up.
Considering that I'll be 25 next month (!!!!!), it seems rather late in the game to figure out what I want to do for the rest of my life. The thing is, I thought I had it all figured out. When I graduated from college, I knew exactly what I wanted to do with my life--go to law school (for the knowledge, not the firm job), become employed by the NBA or NFL, save all the little black boys from making a mess of their lives and ending up destitute a year after they retired. Simple. But now, I just don't know. Maybe it's because things haven't exactly worked out as planned, but I'm feeling very unsettled right now. What if I do find the dream job and realize it's NOTHING like I thought it would be and I hate it? Then what? What if I NEVER get anything close to the dream job? What in the world could I do every day for the rest of my life that I wouldn't hate for the rest of my working life?
And then I start thinking, what if what I thought I wanted to do for the rest of my life when I was 18 isn't really what I want to do for the rest of my life now? I love reading. I read more than anyone I know, especially romance novels. It is my absolute favorite pastime. Why shouldn't I pursue something in that realm as a job? Wouldn't that make me happier? I could totally run a publishing house. Or be an editor. I could do that! But I don't technically have any experience in the field, I'm not a writer, and the only one saying I could do that is me. And anyway, being an editor could've been achieved without wasting three years and approximately $120k. Wasteful.
Maybe I should've just quit faking the funk when I was in college and have become a teacher. I've always said that if teachers made more money, I'd have been an AP English teacher (so being able to live a certain lifestyle means something to me. Sue me.). And let me tell you--I would've been FANTASTIC. Effing amazing. Le Sigh.
What really worries me is that other than those things, I seriously cannot think of one job--or even one thing-- I would enjoy doing as a job. I'm sure there's something else out there, but maybe I'm lost in my panic and can't see the forest for the trees. I've never before in my life not had a set plan for what was to come next--maybe that's what's freaking me out. Truthfully, law school might have been a huge, costly mistake. Damn.
I don't know guys, I just don't know! My friends are So. Sure. about what they want out of life, and I feel like I'm still floundering around trying to figure out where I fit in. I'm fine with not L-O-V-I-N-G whatever it is I end up doing after the bar, I just don't want to hate going to work every day, you know? But on the other hand, I'm definitely a beggar at this point, and beggars can't be choosers.
What's a girl to do??
S.
I definitely want to grow up. I am tired of going to school, tired of reading for school, tired of my Christmases marked by a period of extreme and irrational stress otherwise known as finals, and tired of my birthday being celebrated by a moment of euphoria for having survived another year, followed by an immediate crash back to Earth as I resume studying. Also, I've said it before and I'll say it again--law students are an odd bunch. The less time I spend around them, the better. Clearly I am the exception to the rule.
So no, I definitely don't not want to grow up.
What I do want, is to know what I want to be when I grow up.
Considering that I'll be 25 next month (!!!!!), it seems rather late in the game to figure out what I want to do for the rest of my life. The thing is, I thought I had it all figured out. When I graduated from college, I knew exactly what I wanted to do with my life--go to law school (for the knowledge, not the firm job), become employed by the NBA or NFL, save all the little black boys from making a mess of their lives and ending up destitute a year after they retired. Simple. But now, I just don't know. Maybe it's because things haven't exactly worked out as planned, but I'm feeling very unsettled right now. What if I do find the dream job and realize it's NOTHING like I thought it would be and I hate it? Then what? What if I NEVER get anything close to the dream job? What in the world could I do every day for the rest of my life that I wouldn't hate for the rest of my working life?
And then I start thinking, what if what I thought I wanted to do for the rest of my life when I was 18 isn't really what I want to do for the rest of my life now? I love reading. I read more than anyone I know, especially romance novels. It is my absolute favorite pastime. Why shouldn't I pursue something in that realm as a job? Wouldn't that make me happier? I could totally run a publishing house. Or be an editor. I could do that! But I don't technically have any experience in the field, I'm not a writer, and the only one saying I could do that is me. And anyway, being an editor could've been achieved without wasting three years and approximately $120k. Wasteful.
Maybe I should've just quit faking the funk when I was in college and have become a teacher. I've always said that if teachers made more money, I'd have been an AP English teacher (so being able to live a certain lifestyle means something to me. Sue me.). And let me tell you--I would've been FANTASTIC. Effing amazing. Le Sigh.
What really worries me is that other than those things, I seriously cannot think of one job--or even one thing-- I would enjoy doing as a job. I'm sure there's something else out there, but maybe I'm lost in my panic and can't see the forest for the trees. I've never before in my life not had a set plan for what was to come next--maybe that's what's freaking me out. Truthfully, law school might have been a huge, costly mistake. Damn.
I don't know guys, I just don't know! My friends are So. Sure. about what they want out of life, and I feel like I'm still floundering around trying to figure out where I fit in. I'm fine with not L-O-V-I-N-G whatever it is I end up doing after the bar, I just don't want to hate going to work every day, you know? But on the other hand, I'm definitely a beggar at this point, and beggars can't be choosers.
What's a girl to do??
S.
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