Hello, hello all and hello again! How I have missed writing to you, but every once in a while, a person needs to step back away from the things they love. They need to be reminded of why they love these aspects of life as much as they do. While some get the itch to take a photograph, I get the itch to write, so here I am again. Let’s get to business, shall we?
You have to admit, whenever you hear “Let’s Get Down to Business,” you think of Captain Shang from Mulan.
I hope your Memorial Day weekend was splendid, and that you took a few moments to stop in your tracks to remember those who have given the ultimate sacrifice so we can live in a country like we do, letting us have the pleasures and freedoms we enjoy in our every day lives. It doesn’t have to be a grand, expensive gesture. Just a reminder to those around you and letting those know we remember and give thanks to their service. I had a friend recently tell me he joined the National Guards because its something he wants to look back on in 30 years and say it was something he did. If he doesn’t do it now, he never will.
I admire his ability to dive right in, head first, without a second thought. I once seriously considered joining the armed forces, but due to the heavy and persistent recruitment calls, I soon became annoyed with them and told them to leave me alone. I needed time to bring this up to my parents in a serious manner (they thought I was joking each time I mentioned it to them) and the fact that the recruiter didn’t respect that only made me angry. I ended up saying no to them. It may be a lame excuse, but let me make the decision in my own matter of time. It wasn’t like there was a deadline to sign up in a weeks’ time otherwise it would be too late!
The things we look back on. It’s amazing to think how different my life may have been.
Regardless of your affiliation to the armed forces, I hope you took the time to thank them in some way, shape, or form.
They gave it all. Remember that.
I’ve come to the conclusion over the past couple of days that I do not want to be a boring person. I don’t want my days to be routine. I don’t want everyone to be able to predict what I’m going to be doing a week from today because it’s the same thing I do every week at that exact same time. I don’t want people to think that I’ll wait for them, or that I’ll always be free. I want them to consider me a busy person, and if they want to spend time with me, they need to take into consideration that I may not always be available for them to simply drop me a text the night of and expect me to be there because “I have nothing better to do.”
Are there people who actually live like this?
I came to this conclusion over the past three days because I found myself doing the same things over the course of those three days. I watched lots of Gossip Girl. I read a lot of magazines. I ate a lot of food. I bought a lot of clothes. I stared at my wall, and fell into my bed at abnormally early times for myself. I arrived and left work more often than went out to drink or meet up with friends.
I became routine. In three days’ time. I became routine. (It should probably be taken into account that the weather here was just awful all three days of the weekend, too. We couldn’t grill outside due to torrential rainfall. I couldn’t go to the beach because of torrential rainfall and heavy, thick fog. I couldn’t even enjoy my coffee out on my deck because of the torrential rainfall. Ick ick ick.)
“Silent women are seldom bores — it is the talkative ones who make one feel limp.”
I’m listening to what you’re saying, Elinor Glyn, an English eroticist of yore. I think more girls should listen to the volumes you speak. The more we do and seek and discover in the world, the more tired our minds and bodies. Therefore we don’t have the energy to constantly talk about the things we do or don’t do. Or wish we did. Or whatever combination of things you want to say or pretend you did.
Glamorous women always tend to be sexual in nature. I should take notes.
So, last night, when I became so restless I was ready to pull my own skin off , I threw on my yoga pants and a t-shirt and told my sister I was going for a walk. Let’s be real. A walk didn’t cut it. I was so fed up with many little things last night, I just needed to leave them all behind. I arrived at the beach around 9:00 pm (thank god it’s still light out at that hour), put my keys in my pockets, threw a towel over my purse in my backseat, slammed the door shut and almost took out a guy just standing there with a really nice camera. I just needed to get to that beach, and for that desire, I blame the Cancer inside of me.
If the man with the camera hadn’t of moved, this is what I would have been like: A PMS-ing hippo.
Even though I was wearing tennis shoes, it was incredibly satisfying to feel the wet sand sink underneath my feet. The air smelled so good, the crashing waves shut out the stupid, nagging voices inside my head. As I walked, I reminded myself to be aware of everything around me, to take in the moment. That’s when I noticed the fresh tracks of footprints lined up next to mine, the flock of tiny birds swooping around the crest of the crashing waters, the fact that some strange moving figure wearing white was standing right next to the landmark I was aiming for as my turnaround point…I took it all in and let myself simply be aware. With that awareness, I realized my legs were begging me to run.
Run I did. I haven’t run like that in months, but it felt great…and I won’t lie. It felt epic with tons of fallen logs and lake debris littering the beach from the weekend’s huge storms, the crashing waves ripping at my feet, and just running like someone was chasing me…Epic. The only thing missing was the Hunger Games soundtrack playing in my headphones (which decided to die right as I started that evenings’ walk by my apartment.)
On my wish list for when I make it as an action star in Hollywood: Leading the Charge!
It honestly brought me back from wherever I was. It sounds silly, ridiculous, a bit philosophical, but that’s not the point. The point is that I felt myself come back out of a crazy, mentally messed up place, and I returned to where I was physically standing. It’s something the Jedi need to be able to do, to take in all that is around them, to be present in the moment and not thinking of what may happen in the future.
Take care of the here and now, and keep your mind in the here and now, where it belongs.
Thank you, Master Qui-Gon
Returning home to a bowl of vanilla ice cream, a large glass of water and my bangs curling like mad around my forehead (humidity and I do not get along at all in the summertime. Put Humidity right in the corner with Patience), I felt a larger sense of calm about me, and actually a stronger urge to become more active in my every day life. Running, muscle toning, ab work…all of it is going to find time in my day, even if its only for 20 minutes. Better than nothing.
I’m wearing a one-shoulder dress in my sister’s wedding. My arms need to look spectacular.
With that in mind, I want to share this Vogue-Spiration with you. It speaks of a seduction many of us feel, and probably don’t fully understand. I know my seduction lies in finding what will make me a member of society, a “real” adult, someone to be looked up to, a “real” woman in a “real” woman’s job…whatever the hell that means. But the seduction exists:
“All legendary heartbreakers know that nothing is more alluring than a Mona Lisa aura of mystery. That secret untold, that appointment not kept, that willful concealing of what’s most desired…
Vogue it up.
And so we were captivated by a mood of enigmatic sophistication. The cool, young thing now is an ice-cool, adult panache — conveyed via intriguing new hemlines (below the knee), silhouettes (the femme fatal mermaid), and the strong, ladylike (wraps of fox, snap-top clutches, sheer dark stockings). You know you’re thinking about someone in particular.
No “uniform dressing” for us, grazie. We plan to play dress-up as Daisy Buchanan and Myrna Loy did, going in for marabou and heading to parties in gold paillettes or candy-color bijous that Josephine Baker could have worn at the Folies-Beregere.
Ands while we’re educating ourselves in the lost art of dressing like grown-ups, let’s expand out millinery vocabulary beyond the (usually misused) “fedora,”shall we? Is your favorite chapeau-to-be a toque? A slouch hat? A pillbox? A capeline? Why not make gloves, tight leather or cat-dotted, your trademark?
The seduction isn’t in taking it all off, it’s in putting it all on.”
Whatever your seduction, don’t let it be to the dark side.
Until next time, my fellow Jedi.
She gave in to the Black Swan, and look where it got her.