Tag Archives: love

to: me, from: me (init)

25 Sep

It’s late September and you’re sitting in the shambles of your bedroom; clothes are thrown everywhere, your bureau is covered with anything you couldn’t find a spot for. You need to pack but don’t know where to begin. In a little over a week, you’ll be moving. Not to another apartment in New York, but back home because you just can’t do it anymore. Your mental health has taken a major hit and you’re not accepting it. You weren’t expecting this to happen – especially so soon – but it’s happening and surprisingly, you’re actually okay with it.

Even though your life in New York only lasted a less than a year and a half, more has happened to help you grow than you could have ever anticipated. Your time there wasn’t long, but life seemed to happen in fast forward, squeezing in more life lessons, experiences, and realizations about your sense of self than you could have ever imagined. And it’s scary and sad and you’re not happy like you expected you would be, but you’re learning and growing and the experience was ultimately with it. You know you needed this. Part of it comes naturally from growing up – you went from 22 to 24 in New York. You went from early twenties to mid twenties. You don’t enjoy the same things you did a year ago and your priorities have changed almost completely. You’re a different person. But you know this isn’t just because you’re getting older and maturing. You know New York had a major hand in showing you what’s most important to you and that you can’t pretend to be anything or like anything for other people. You need to live for yourself.

I’ll start off with this, things you anticipated about New York, but had to actually experience to understand to what extent: everything smells bad and everything costs money – too much money. You’ll spend unfathomable amounts on cab rides from Manhattan or even just from one end of Brooklyn to the other, and the beer all costs too much, as do your groceries. Plus, you order food out way more than you should, and every time you hit “place order” on seamless, you can hear your bank account begin to whimper. Despite what people say about happy hour, searching for good deals around where you work in midtown is useless, you still spend too much money. Plus midtown is actually the center of hell all on its own and the fact that you are there five days a week makes you want to scream. Your rent is stupidly expensive for the area you live in. You live paycheck to paycheck and you accept it, but you know it won’t help you in the long run. It’s also too loud. Always too loud. There are literally sounds everywhere and it’s overwhelming. There are rats everywhere, mostly in the subway. And no matter how many rats you see in the subway, you will always still be startled by rats in the subway. You’ll have a mouse in your apartment. You and Lauren will name him Clarence, but he will never be welcome. You see him once soon after you move in but then not again for months. You think you imagined him, but he’s not imaginary – he’s just hiding out. Eventually disposing of him will be slightly scarring. And it will take 45 minutes. You just don’t want to deal with this.

You will drink too much at the beginning. Way too much. And your friends will tell you this and you will feel attacked at first, but you know they’re right. You consciously try to be better, and you have your slips, but you do get better with it. So there is that, you do yourself proud. But when you first move, for the first few months, you drink more consistently during the week than ever before, even in college. You still really miss college, despite how many years have gone by. And you will always miss studying abroad. You wanted to live back in a big city because London was so amazing. But New York isn’t London, not by a long shot, and the stupidity of your youth while you were abroad isn’t acceptable anymore. Your life was a dream then and you didn’t realize that living and working in New York would be so starkly different from visiting. When you visited for long weekends in the past, you didn’t want to leave. Now, you find yourself itching to go home for the first time.

You fell in love again. It’s unexpected, but it happened. And it terrified you because it happened fast, faster than ever in the past. But you embraced it as much as it scared you. He was good looking and had a beard and he let you pop his pimples and his favorite food is pizza, just like you. He felt like your dream man, but you knew there was a lot wrong that you were ignoring. You wanted this to work, so you didn’t tell him how often he hurt your feelings or how it bothered you that he thought of you so little and he thinks about himself too much, or that he really has no idea how to be in a relationship. You brush away all of the bad because you thought there was more good there and you loved him. You thought he loved you too, but you’re wrong because he tells you so. You have a sneaking suspicion that he was lying and just scared. You don’t think you misinterpreted the signs, things he said and did (that time he actually said the words “I love you” and apparently didn’t realize he said it), but he tells you otherwise. In the end that doesn’t matter – he doesn’t want to be with you. And your heart will be crushed and stay crushed for a while.

It confuses you, why you feel so terrible for the amount of time you do, but you come to realize it isn’t about him. Trust me, eventually you’re sadder about losing his friends and Thursday night trivia and the life you had built while in a relationship than you actually are about him. And it took you the summer, but you finally understand: you’re unhappy. Not just at the current moment in life, but fundamentally. You’re unhappy and you know that you’ve generally always been unhappy, at least for the last however many years. At this point you can’t even remember when the unhappiness first seeped in. You’ve just been searching too desperately for distractions and people to surround yourself with to even realize it. And surrounding yourself with people doesn’t work no matter how hard you try; you don’t have the support system you envisioned you would have when you moved to New York. The friends you’ve made already have other friends, they don’t need you the way you need them. You’re lonely and you acknowledge that and realize you don’t like it. Being lonely doesn’t suite you, never has. You can’t pinpoint the exact moment, but something clicks and everything changes and you completely understand the level of your unhappiness. And you finally acknowledge that New York is a part of it.

You’ve started to realize that while you used to dread the idea of moving home, you can’t understand why anymore. Home seems safe and what you need while your mental stability hangs in the balance. You’re drained mentally and emotionally and you need to fix that. Whereas before you thought Boston was too small, you’re now realizing that New York is too big. And while you’re not old, you feel too old and tired to be attracted to that anymore. While you were once excited about moving somewhere so expansive and so large, it’s too big for you eventually. You’re too lazy to want to go anywhere other than your apartment. You used to admire the subway system because it felt so unreliable in Boston, but you’ve even tired of the fact that to get anywhere, you have to travel a minimum of thirty minutes by train. You’re exhausted in every aspect of your life. You don’t have the thirst to travel and explore different parts of New York, to discover hidden gems and forgotten areas. That doesn’t excite you anymore. Nothing about New York excites you anymore. And that’s okay.

The thought of moving home excites you; of being with your family again and with friends you don’t see anymore. The idea of being at a distance from a city for a while, but knowing Boston is just at your fingertips if you need it. This all makes sense to you. A new environment but somewhere familiar to nurse you back to feeling like yourself again. This feels good and it feels right and that excites you. And that’s okay.

You never had plans for yourself and New York in the long run. You didn’t have a time frame. You just wanted to go. You weren’t ready to leave college and you weren’t ready to go home, you just needed to go somewhere else. Somewhere bigger and somewhere better where you thought your career opportunities would lie. But you didn’t have any concrete expectations. You didn’t expect to work an entry level position in finance in midtown. You didn’t expect how stressful it would be for no reason. You didn’t expect to dread going to work every single day. You didn’t expect how much this would weigh on you emotionally. You know people exist who love their jobs, and you long to be part of that club. You didn’t expect to cry at your desk almost every day for over two months. And you definitely didn’t expect to be 24 with almost absolutely no idea of what you want your career to be. New York was supposed to solve that problem, but instead you’re leaving with an even bigger sense of uncertainty. That scares you, but you know staying will only make it worse and make you unhappier. You can’t do that to yourself any longer.

You start losing the desire to write, and that, too, scares you. Writing was always your creative outlet, your way to allow your thoughts to take flight of their own. Part of the disconnect was distraction – going out a lot and being in a relationship got in the way of writing. A lot of it was from working all day and having no brain power to even consider sitting down and typing. But you know you need that outlet and that way to express yourself, even if no one reads it, and even taking the time to write out all these thoughts gives you a sense of control again. That feels good. All you wanted was to feel like yourself again, and this all feels like a step in the right direction to getting back to who you were.

But it wasn’t all sad in New York. You had plenty of good times: birthday celebrations, monthly book club meetings, free happy hours with friends from work. Even just the nights spent at your apartment watching dumb tv shows and movies and drinking wine. All of those are moments you’ll now cherish, and you needed those. You met some good people and had some great laughs. You went to some new and beautiful places and had some interesting experiences. You lived life while you could, but New York lost its appeal. The allure vanished and the thought of staying there makes you feel trapped and stuck. You want to get out before you resent the city. So many people end up in New York because it’s an escape from their former life, but it turns out that for you, New York was a way to get back home. You’re finally ready to be there, and you thank New York for that.

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if i didn’t hate taylor swift so much i could use almost any of her song titles as the title for this post

1 Jul

I feel like I’m someone who writes very candidly about most topics. I love expressing my opinion and providing commentary on almost all subjects, so I usually don’t have trouble just sitting and writing. One topic I don’t really delve into, however, is relationships. This is because I have been out of the relationship-game for so long, I couldn’t even remember what anything involved in being one felt like and had nowhere to begin writing about them because of that.

However, I recently ventured back into the relationship world (albeit for a brief period of time), and now I can think of almost nothing else because the emotions I’m feeling are so unfamiliar to me now. I’ve been broken up with in the past, but it’s been so long and so distanced from who I am as a person now that I can only take cues from others on how I’m supposed to feel. I’m currently going through a breakup and the emotions are overwhelming. For a while, I actually was convinced I was a robot and had no feelings, but this experience has shown me that’s absolutely not true, and whereas before I was concerned that I didn’t have normal emotions, now I wish for nothing other than shutting them off.

I have no idea how someone is supposed to act during a breakup. I’ve seen my friends go through them often and always wonder when they know they’re okay. As I said, I’ve been broken up with before, but none of these feelings are familiar with me now. I’ve been the friend who sits and wonders why their friend can’t stop talking about their ex. I’ve sat and criticized the guys my friends dated and how crazy my friends seemed to be acting, but that’s only because from the outside, it’s so easy to judge others and tell them to move on. From the inside, all I know that all I can do is talk about the past because it’ all I can think about. And I’ve gotten to the point where I am making myself sick talking so much about it, but there’s literally nothing else I can think to discuss. It makes me really upset with myself that I’ve become this person, but there’s nothing I can do to get myself out of it. Everything reminds me of him, I can’t separate the good times from the not so good times because all I can think about is what I’m missing, not what I’ve gotten away from. All I have is my memories and he’s a memory to me now and it just doesn’t make any sense. You don’t just fall out of love because your love has walked away, and that’s the hardest thing to work through.

I don’t understand what the correct mourning period is for a relationship. I will always remember that on “Sex and the City”, Charlotte once said she heard the time it takes to get over a relationship is half the course that it ran. I really hope that’s true, because I can’t imagine going on too much longer living day by day the way I’ve been feeling. And mourning is absolutely the accurate term to describe how it feels getting over a relationship. It feels like someone has gone and left you forever and that’s it. It’s unpleasant, to say the least. What’s worse is that I attempted to get some answers and find some closure, but all I learned in my attempt was that closure doesn’t exist. I’m never going to feel better with him breaking up with me. It happened and I didn’t want it to. That’s all there is to it, and it’s discouraging.

I think because I’ve been out of the relationship world for so long, I can only grasp a concept of how to deal from television. It’s not helpful by any means, since tv shows are either completely fabricated or only slightly based on real life, and everything is cut short and abridged. It seems like people get over their exes in the snap of a finger, when really, the editors just made it look that way. Based on how I feel, I can only imagine what everyone else is going through, especially those whose relationships have spanned much longer than mine. Looking back, my relationship was basically the blink of an eye. The months we spent together flew by and now that I just want to fast forward to when I’ll feel like myself again, time could not be moving any slower. Because ultimately, that’s my real goal: I just want to feel like myself again. I know it takes time, but that’s easier to accept as a concept than to really believe. I’m at the point where I don’t know what I believe anymore and I just wish I could nap and wake up and be me again.

Life’s hard. I don’t have a helmet.
I find that referencing “Boy Meets World” always helps get me through the sleepless nights.

i forgot headphones so i’m sitting in silence and it’s deafening

29 Jul

I’m on the Amtrak headed back to New York. I was just in Maine for the weekend, and I’m feeling an overwhelming sense of sadness having to leave York Beach so soon. I was only there from Saturday til this afternoon, and it wasn’t enough. It’s never really enough. I’m used to going for the entire week, spending all the time in the world with my family and then heading back to Massachusetts. But this time, I didn’t have that option. I don’t care about not heading back to Massachusetts (I actually had to do that because I took the Amtrak out of Boston), but I hate the fact that I couldn’t stay the entire week. In all honesty, I usually want to strangle at least a few of my family members by the end of our week-long vacation. I usually want to strangle them about two days in. But this trip was so different. I’m not surrounded by my family at all times anymore, so I had an extra sense of excitement about seeing them. I’ve really genuinely missed all of them and didn’t even realize it because I’m so distracted in New York. Thank God I’m distracted in New York, really. This is the first time I’ve felt homesickness since moving and it’s not even really for home, it’s for our little vacation getaway (I just lied, I feel London-sickness on a consistent basis and it’s mentally draining).

I genuinely enjoyed being with everyone and joking around, hearing them all talk. I miss that. I’m sad right now. I’m sitting on the train and I want to cry because I had to leave them. I’m never the one who has to leave them. I’ve been the one who’s wanted to leave them a little earlier, but never did. Trust me, I’ve rushed out of York before. But I really hate that I had to this year.

I didn’t think I’d cry when I was leaving. I was wondering if it would feel weird going home after moving, like the first time it did once I came back for a weekend freshman year of college. But really, driving through Watertown felt exactly the same as it always has, nothing felt different. I felt like I lived there again. Because despite not having a bed at my house anymore, I’m more than used to sleeping on the couch. Being there felt natural. But I’ve never gone to York for such a short time when everyone else got to stay and enjoy themselves and then have the sense that I was not going to see them again for a month. That’s what’s hitting me hardest. So I ended up crying when I was hugging my mother goodbye and almost crying again several times. I thought it would be easier for me now, but I guess I was wrong. I know it’ll get easier. But I thought I’d be used to it from college and studying abroad. But here I am, two hours away from New York, wishing I was back at the beach.

Growing up sucks balls.

if you’re tired you take a napa, you don’t MOVE to napa

14 May

I don’t care what decade we’re in or how many years it’s been off the air, I will always find “Sex and the City” to be relevant to our culture. Every day, new women (and men, I won’t leave you kids out) are discovering the show, relating to the storylines, and realizing that they are one of four women: a Carrie, a Charlotte, a Samantha, or a Miranda. Personally, I am a Miranda. I am cynical as fuck, we kind of treat men similarly, and we’re very sarcastic (you guys probably couldn’t pick up on that). I feel like most people have a mix of all of the women in them (despite how much you don’t want to be a Charlotte or a Carrie. Really, it’s how much I don’t want to be a Charlotte or a Carrie. Emphasis on Carrie), but there’s one whose storylines and dialogue really resonates with how you see yourself and you assume others see you.

Judging based on outfits alone, I'm definitely a Miranda. But I long to be a Carrie.

Judging based on outfits alone, I’m definitely a Miranda. But I long to be a Carrie.

It hasn’t happened in real life (yet), but on my OkCupid I make it a point to say that I’m a feminist because I wear that title PROUD, but then I list “Sex and the City” under my favorite shows, and I get called out. There will be a never-ending argument about if the show goes against feminism or if it’s helping out the cause. My stance on the show is that it is about four, strong female leads, two of which are independent (you can guess which two I find to be more independent), have firm careers, and are sexually liberated. However, I know that the show relies mostly on the relationship aspect, as it is called “SEX” and the city. Also, the women can come off as rather pathetic at times when dealing with the men in their lives and a lot of the times, the show makes it seem that having a relationship is the end-all in life. I think it walks a fine line of telling you to love yourself and love your friends, but more often than not, Carrie and Charlotte are complaining that they’re lonely and need to be in relationships. I guess that’s the point of the show though, as many women feel the same way and allow relationships to define their lives, so these characters are more relatable to them. However, in an ideal feminist sitcom, the women would have relationships, but it wouldn’t be the death of them if the relationships didn’t work out because we shouldn’t rely on a man to make us happy. That’s probably the most stereotypical feminist thing I can think to say. Regardless of anyone’s take on it, I just love the stupid show, despite wanting to punch Carrie in the face the majority of the time she’s on the screen.

Because 86 pearl necklaces at once simply aren't enough.

Because 86 pearl necklaces at once simply aren’t enough.

Yes, this post is about Carrie. Not just Carrie really, because I’d probably hang myself from my ceiling fan with my finest Chanel scarf (see what I did there? I don’t own a Chanel scarf, I’m trying to write like Carrie), but more about the age old debate that fans will always be on separate sides of the fence about: Big or Aidan. Yes. That’s what this is about. The show went off the year a decade ago, but I’m going to weigh in now, in 2013, with my thoughts about Carrie’s two biggest loves. And I will insult her other boyfriends along the way, don’t worry.

So. There’s lots to say here. Let’s make fun of her other boyfriends first. I’d say Carrie’s big four boyfriends are Big, Aidan, Berger, and the Russian, who absolutely does not deserve to be referred to by a real name because he is horrible in every sense of the word. I say that these are her big four because she dated each of them for more than two episodes and she also said “I love you” to all of them. So, let’s do this. The Russian, as I said, is horrible. He’s pretentious, has a very odd sense of humor, and Carrie is just extremely annoying with him. I think a lot of why I hate the Russian is because I hate how Carrie acts with the him. He’s naturally a romantic and Carrie can’t handle it because she’s a fucking idiot. Like she faints because he wants to dance with her to a string orchestra. Like excuse me? No. That’s a BIT dramatic, you moron. Also, he takes her to Paris, she went by choice not by force, and she is miserable the whole time. I get that she’s away from her friends and he is distracted because he has a big art show coming up, but Carrie, you’re in fucking Paris. I’ve been to Paris before, it’s amazing. NEVER complain if you’re in Paris. Also, you knew he’d be busy, HE MOVED THERE BECAUSE HE HAS AN ART SHOW. Guy’s gotta work, not everyone needs to be at your whim 24/7.

Hottest picture I could find.

Hottest picture I could find.

Right, then there’s Berger. I’m someone who originally loved Berger, I thought he had great potential. He was funny, a writer, cute. THE TOTAL PACKAGE, AMIRITE LADIEZ? Anyway, he goes completely insane when he’s dropped by his publisher and then takes it out on Carrie. Carrie does do this annoying thing where she points out a character in his book shouldn’t be wearing a scrunchie. While I’m actually not annoyed at Carrie for doing that, really (she is, after all, a writer and she was giving him her opinion after a rave review of the book), I’m more annoyed at Carrie because I fucking despise when I’ve already done something and people tell me I should have done something differently. Like, sorry, excuse me, can I go back in time and fix that? No? Fuck you then. But yeah, Berger goes bat shit and breaks up with Carrie on a post-it note and that’s one of the best storylines on television ever, it’s actually almost perfect to me. Carrie deserves that.

Berger is unfortunately the reason why "He's Just Not That Into You" was created. And that's unforgivable.

Berger is unfortunately the reason why “He’s Just Not That Into You” was created. And that’s unforgivable.

So now the big two. Here we go. It seems so clear cut, really. Big is a complete asshole who fucked with Carrie for multiple years and was reluctant to ever commit to her, while Aidan is (inexplicably) in love with Carrie, wants to marry her, and is a total cutie (season four, never season three. That hair is inexcusable).  Therefore, most people think Aidan is the better choice for Carrie and are angry that she ends up with Big. I agree with half of that, Aidan is a much better man. But that’s not the point here. While Aidan is a better person, he is not, in the end, the man that Carrie wanted to be with. Carrie seemed to get off on her twisted relationship with Big. She wouldn’t have gone back to him so many times if she didn’t. There was something there, the chase, perhaps, that brought her back time and again. That was never really the case with Aidan, and Carrie never seemed to ever be content while she was with him.

Like seriously, that hair?

Like seriously, that hair?

For example, when Carrie and Aidan first date in season three, she has extreme issues with meeting his parents, becoming serious with him, quitting smoking for him, etc. There is an episode dedicated to the fact that she’s freaking out about their relationship because there’s nothing wrong with it. It keeps her up at night. I’d have to say there’s something wrong with you if you have a problem with not having a problem in your relationship (I was that person once, it’s no way to live). Carrie could never just accept the relationship and move on. Also, from the description I gave above, it seemed like Carrie had to do a lot of changing to be the person she thought Aidan wanted her to be, and one should never compromise oneself. Except maybe if you’re Carrie, it would probably be best for the world to get a complete personality transplant. Then, there is the biggest problem in their relationship, the fact that Carrie has an extended affair (I say extended because it lasted about three episodes) with Big, her ex, while dating Aidan. My biggest problem with the affair is that Carrie seemed to not give a shit about Aidan’s feelings in all of it. Every time she was mad at herself for what she was doing, it was because Big was married and had a wife and he was cheating on her. Never once did Carrie say, “oh right, I have a boyfriend I supposedly love”. She just wanted to keep Aidan around because she knew she could. And then once they broke up and got back together in season four, their entire relationship was problematic because Aidan (rightfully) couldn’t trust Carrie, they wanted to lead separate lives (i.e. the episode where she wants to go clubbing and Aidan would rather be a hillbilly with his dog in a pair of tighty whities), and she threw up when she found the engagement ring he bought her. Like, none of these things scream “YOU TWO SHOULD BE IN A RELATIONSHIP” to me. Once engaged, despite the fact that Carrie didn’t even seem to want to marry Aidan and that she’s an idiot, she has physical reactions to the idea of marriage and they call the whole thing off. Essentially every episode with Aidan in it while him and Carrie are dating are about the problems in their relationship. They could never just be happy and enjoying one another, something HAD to be wrong (this probably has to do with the fact that Carrie is an insane drama queen).

Not understanding that caption, but Aidan and Carrie were hillbillies. Aidan is the king of the hillbillies.

Not understanding that caption, but Aidan and Carrie were hillbillies. Aidan is the king of the hillbillies.

So now, Big. Big is an asshole, I’ve already said that. He strung Carrie along, messed with her head. We’ve all been there (maybe just me, whatever, eff you guys), and we know it’s completely unhealthy. However, we also know there is something about it that keeps you in it, despite how mentally and emotionally draining the situation is. Even after all of the shit the two of them went through after dating and after their affair, Carrie and Big decide to be friends still, they hang out, have long, late night phone calls. It’s really painfully obvious during the show they’re going to end up together, he wouldn’t have been kept around otherwise. It’s the same way I feel about Miranda and Steve, but we’re not talking about them (BECAUSE THEY’RE PERFECT. JK I just love Steve). Carrie is the kind of person who needs to have drama in her life and in her relationships. She didn’t get that FROM Aidan, so she needed to create it in her head to satisfy her sick need. However, she got more than her fill from Big, and that’s exactly what she desired. That’s my main point in all of this: Carrie wanted that messed up, dramatic relationship. As perfect as Aidan may seem on paper, he was never what Carrie wanted. In my opinion, Aidan deserved far better than Carrie, and I will not even get into discussing their fucked up storyline in the second movie (the second movie is sheer proof that some people just want to watch the world burn). It might seem crazy, but that’s just how some people are. They thrive off of dramatic situations, it’s how they feel alive, and I personally think it’s dumb (no offense to the zero people reading this, although I feel I’ve insulted everyone enough at this point that you should take no stock in what I say).

Her hair is so big because it's full of secrets. But also, you look like a fucking moron.

Her hair is so big because it’s full of secrets. But also, you look like a fucking moron.

To sum up, yet again, my thoughts lay in this: Aidan was the better man, but Big was the better man for Carrie. That’s who she was ultimately supposed to end up with, because that is the kind of man she was looking for, despite how emotionally sick he made her feel. That’s just Carrie’s character, and we were unfortunately fed that character and her depressing fashion choices for six seasons. I try to enjoy the show despite Carrie, that’s really how I get through it. But yes, these are my thoughts on this really relevant subject, and I hope everyone (no one) feels free to agree or disagree.

This pretty accurately sums up my hatred for Carrie...

This pretty accurately sums up my hatred for Carrie…

Also, I feel this isn’t brought up enough, but Aidan was corny as fuck. I mean, Carrie is too, her weekly column is effing ridiculous (as is her lifestyle that her weekly column SOMEHOW supports, I won’t even get into that bullshit, I’m still mad about it), some of the shit she spews out is down-right stomach-churning for how corny it is, but Aidan was corny in a different way. He seemed more genuinely corny because he actually said a lot of really cliché statements aloud, to Carrie, in public. They all embarrassed me. So like maybe in that way they made sense together, but ultimately, their mutual affection for corniness wasn’t enough to make their relationship work. Sometimes it lasts in love, but sometimes, it hurts instead.

Generally, it hurts instead. Stay strong, turtle doves.

This is my vision of true love <3

This is my vision of true love ❤

“look for the helpers. you will always find people who are helping”

19 Apr

Due to the horrific events that occurred at the Boston Marathon this past Monday, April 15, I feel obligated to at least comment on it in some way, no matter how small that way might be. I was in Watertown on the day of the marathon, but my friends and I had considered, albeit briefly, going into Boston to celebrate having the day off. When we heard the news of the explosions going off, I feel that there was a shared sense of not knowing how to comprehend, react, or take in and process what we had heard. I for one didn’t even think of the fact that there was a bombing when my friend first read the news, I think I just skipped over what she said before really thinking about the words that had come out of her mouth.

There was a sense of panic for a little while as I ran through my brain who I might know that could possibly have been at the marathon. Some of my cousins had gone to the Red Sox game that day and it had ended before the marathon, so I was nervous they had gone over to watch the runners. Thankfully, they were a mile away when the explosions went off. And then I remembered that the woman I babysit for was actually running in the marathon, but again, thankfully, she had already left the scene. She told me that she had actually finished the marathon fifteen minutes before the first explosion occurred, and I couldn’t help but think how horrible it would have been if she had taken longer to cross the finish line. I’m an agnostic, but in these moments, I threw out any disbelief I may have had and I was thanking God that no one I knew of (at least at the time, I was still thinking of who I might know from UMass that could be at the marathon, since a lot of people who go to UMass are from the Boston area) was injured.

But hearing everything about the deaths and the rising injury toll was so unsettling and upsetting as the day went on. I was eleven when 9/11 happened, and because I was so young and not in New York, it didn’t register to me at the time the full extent of what a horrible event it was. Although this was not nearly the same caliber as 9/11, it hit me so differently, since I’m older now and had to think about the fact that the explosions happened only miles from my home and that people I know could be dangerously affected by them, whether it being physically affected or emotionally, as people I know were bound to know other people who were hurt.

I talk shit about Boston a lot (I’ll be the first to admit it before anyone tries to call me out), mostly because I’ve been around the area for a while and am in the city multiple days a week, so I’m just too used to it and need a change of scenery. But really, I do love Boston. A part of me will forever remain in here. Sure, the people can be loud and obnoxious, but they’re also unique and colorful, no one can deny that. No one at the marathon could have possibly deserved what happened. I complain about people a lot, but I truly believe that. The fact that so many innocent people were attacked while watching something as wholesome as a marathon (it’s really upsetting that this happened at such an innocent event that had no ties to politics or religion, which people are always fighting about. This was seriously such an uncontroversial event, it shows that people just want to see the world be destroyed) still makes me sick to my stomach. But, as Obama has said, Boston is resilient. All of his words about Bostonians are true. Bostonians know how to come to together in times of trouble and work to rise above it all. And for that, I am really thankful, and my heart seriously hurts for everyone who was injured or affected in any possible way by these attacks.

It’s also truly something amazing to see the outpouring of love from people in other countries, where attacks like this are an everyday occurrence. I cannot even begin to fathom how these people get by in their day-to-day lives. It’s really incredible to me, and my heart also goes out to them. I don’t know what is wrong with some people on this Earth, but seeing such demonstrations of love and care from all around shows me that despite how much I might not understand society or why humans can act so terribly to one another, there are amazing people out there still who can take the time to not dwell on their own suffering and offer some encouraging words to those of us who haven’t dealt with such traumatic events so we don’t necessarily know how to handle them. I need to keep such thoughts in the back of my head as time goes on, because it’s nice to be reminded that there is good in the world, despite all of the ugliness that may be around.

Boston strong.

Boston strong.

i need to get my frank sinatra playlist in order

15 Apr

As much as I like to think of myself as a realist, I think I have to accept that my thoughts lean toward those of a pessimist point of view. The proverbial cup tends to be neither half full nor half empty, but instead, almost entirely empty. I like to pretend that I think this way because it’s the most realistic approach, but really, I think I’m trying to fool myself into thinking I’m less a miserable human being than I really am.

But despite my affinity for thinking the worst, I have some impending new life changes on the horizon that I am actually actively making myself think positively about, lest I have a panic attack every twenty minutes every single day. I am planning to move in June to New York with my good friend Lauren (check out her blog, suckers. She’s on this site, too. There’s a chance she’s the only person reading this entry. There’s also a chance she’s not reading it at all. Let’s hope for the best) to get the hell out of Massachusetts and try something new to further our lives. They’re pretty bleak in Watertown. If I stay here too much longer I might explode. I actually assume my body is going to explode at some point, but it would be so much more eventful if it happened in the big city (da big apple lolzzzz).

I want to take this time to make a special shout out to my palz Steph and Liz; Steph who was my roommate soulmate when we were paired together in London and Lauren and I will also be living with once we move, and Liz, who was one of my roommates in Amherst last year but is now in New York, and I cannot wait to live in the same vicinity as again. Both of them make the thought of the move even more exciting. Moving with Lauren does, too, I guess. Lololololzzzzz #BadassBitch #LuvMyGrlz

Now to be serious and genuine on this blog for once in my life. I’m looking to get into television production. Ideally at some point I would love to write for television, but for the time being, I’d be more than happy working my way through the business and would be ecstatic just to be a part of it. My biggest passion is probably television and I don’t care how sad that makes me sound, it’s what field I want to be involved in because I feel like it’s what I am destined to be a part of eventually. I’m twenty-two, this is the best time for me to go. I’m young enough where even if I totally fuck up, I have time to figure my life out. I like having that option. It’s scary, but also amazing.

I am also at the point in my life where I need a change of environment. Living at home is not a problem because my parents are overbearing or anything, I really get a lot of freedom here. It’s the fact that I’m twenty-two and I lived away for four years and am not used to being here anymore. I shouldn’t be in Watertown. Aside from family and (roughly four) friends, there is nothing here for me. It’s time for me to leave the Boston area and go somewhere new that has more opportunity for me. I’m really looking forward to the change and I really think I need it for my mental stability and wellbeing. I don’t know if you all (all zero of you) have sensed it, but I’m more on the crazy side than the sane side, and I’m hoping to maybe even that out a bit more if I’m somewhere else.

Also, my favorite place that I have ever lived is London. I never thought I would see myself as someone who would love to live in a city, but ever since I came back from there, I’ve missed being in a big city so much. Sure, Boston is a city, but it’s too small for me. I need somewhere bigger, with tons of boroughs to explore. I don’t need a square I can walk from destination to destination in. The second I got to Piccadilly Square in London, I immediately thought of Times Square. The more I went around London and then later went around New York, the two reminded me of one another. I think that New York will be a great London substitute since I can’t make my way back there (as of now, it would be amazing if I could eventually live there again, but who knows what’s gonna happen in life? I ain’t a psychic or nothin’), I might as well be as close as I can be here in the states. I think that’s something I need.

So, because of my excitement over the idea of being somewhere new, I need to keep my thoughts positive. I know how difficult it can be to survive in the city. But, I can’t focus on that. Sometimes, when I’m trying to fall asleep at night, I can’t stop thinking about money and moving and costs and jobs and everything that a person is supposed to worry about when going through a transition like this. And whenever I do, I feel entirely anxious, I want to cry and I cannot shake the feeling. I’ve learned that thinking positively really does make a difference, despite how much I hate optimists (sorry about how horrible that sounds, but I just think they’re so unrealistic and I don’t like inspirational quotes. They have no place in my life), I know I need to remain optimistic about the move to New York or I will absolutely lose my mind and not be able to function for probably a solid week. And that would get me nowhere. Because all that’s keeping me here now is the fact that I’m making money for my move and I can’t do that if I’m not functioning. I need to be at least partially functioning in order to get some dolla billz. I never thought I’d be someone to keep her head up so much, but hey, I guess that’s just what’s going on now. Hopefully I can someday soon return to the self-deprecating, self-loathing, mentally unstable pessimist we all know and have come to ignore. But for now, I guess I’ll keep thinking positively and listen to “Baby Don’t Cry”, both parts I and II, by Tupac to get me through life.

I suggest you all listen to Tupac regardless of your life situation. 1 luv.

Oh, also, I’m going to Governor’s Ball and I am pumped as fuck about that. Our move to New York coincides with the weekend of Governor’s Ball (for the most part), so that just makes me doubly as excited to get to June and be in New York. Good things on the horizon, people. Good things.

Again, listen to Tupac. He speaks some powerful words.