Tuesday, July 27, 2010

...oh, I've found that I'm bound to wander down that one way road..."

I am tired. I am sleepy. I am exhausted. Why? Because I have decided that the time has come to get over my baby arms and try and do something about it. So, I am taking classes at the gym. Do you know how hard it is to have the arms of an underdeveloped 4 year old girl? No, you don't because an underdeveloped 4 year old girl would not be reading this.

I am taking 3 or 4 classes a week and sometimes, I just want to stop mid-way through the class and pull out a Snickers or a Kit-Kat. When people would turn and look at me with judgment, I'd offer them a bite and when they refused, I'd just think "your loss" and continue to chew into the nougaty goodness.

With all that said, I have learned a couple of things from these classes; 1.) Crying in public can easily be disguised if you are also sweating profusely and 2.) I have hardly any coordination. I know, I know...a Caucasian person with a lack of coordination. Not possible. The instructor made us stand on this half-exercise ball thing and then lunge forward and mine slipped from underneath me and I did a half split, half what little dignity I had is gone, kind-of move. It was humbling when the instructor chimed in and said "Oh God, are you ok?!" Yes, yes I am.

Thursday, July 15, 2010

"...they say, time is made of memories, well I remember and I'm tired..."

I just got my passport stamped as I entered the land of Crazy. I sit here with the air sucked from my lungs, trapped in some mental blockade of delusion and self pity. I can't break free. I need a nap. I need some meds! This is the world of panic attacks and this is where I am at this very moment.

The whole week, I could feel the crazy coming on. It creeps up on you slowly like a Jehovah's Witness knocking on your door at a family dinner. You know it's out there but you just don't know when it will get you.


I should have known it was on its' way though. This whole week, I have felt restless, hurried, emotional. I questioned if I were ovulating. Then, I googled what that word meant and realized that I wasn't. But then again, what if I were?! What if I had ovaries?! That would explain the mood swing! So, I panicked about potentially having female organs. But, alas, no ovaries. Panic diverted.

Last night, I was at my acting class and working with my scene partner and the teacher comes over and tells me that I need to be more neurotic. Hahahahahahaha! Me? More neurotic? This man clearly does not know me! I invented a level of neurosis. I wanted to punch him in his esophagus for the disrespect but I decided that I am too pretty for prison and that that was not the way to go!

I wish that having a panic attack were more like a resort vacation in the Caribbean. You know, sitting around on a beach and drinking a mai-tai while the sun sets in the distance instead of like a jackhammer that pierces your soul and exposes you for the insecure, fragile leper that you are. You know, or something like that.

Sunday, July 11, 2010

"...all I need is a little bit of space to breathe and a little bit of freedom to be who I want to be..."

If there is one thing in life that I have realized that I am good at it, it is whining. I mean, in my head, I can out-whine anyone. "How is the weather today?" It's too hot. It's too cold. It's too weathery. See, I've got it covered. They say that the English are notorious for their desire to complain but, being a typical American, I feel the need to out do them. It is tough though.

So, I haven't written lately which is a trend. I don't know why really. I always want to write and then I think of how it is just easier to complain in my head than via the written word. I am going to try and stop complaining so much but I imagine that it will just turn into me complaining about not having anything to complain about. It sounds complicated but it is easy for me.

Last weekend, I was way too social for my liking. My co-workers, who adore and respect me en masse, invited me out for several different events. One event was my boss having a lunch for some people, the next was a "Jersey Shore" night out on the town and since I am the token American I had to represent that amazingly horrible tv show, and the third was a Fourth of July dinner. Just an FYI, when you look outside and it is cold and then you look at the calendar and see that it says "July" it really messes with your Northern Hemisphere sensibilities. I am not used to such tomfoolery. Haha, I wrote tomfoolery.

I'd like to say it is my charming American accent that lead to my social calendar being full last weekend but it probably grates on their nerves and is more of a hindrance than help for me. So, clearly, it is because I am viewed as pathetic and helpless when it comes to feeding/providing for myself. Which is 100% true. So, therefore, anyone who has a cooking event coming up, I'm free to sample the food.


(Me standing in front of a self portrait. Look at those ears! Spot on!)

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