Freedom aka... Letting it All Hang Out

Today I deleted my Facebook account.   Now that I have no facebook to post a link to this blog, I'm not sure how anyone will read it... but if you're reading it, obviously you've found it without the facebook link, so I guess that's a start.  I've thought about deleting my account before because I'm so fed up with how brag-y and superficial, and outright annoying some people on facebook are, but today I figured I have nothing to lose from deactivating my account, I only have free-time to gain.  There was no hesitation today in my mind, even when the de-activation page popped up with saying "Here are the friend's that will miss you if you're gone."  Right.  Most of the real-life friends I have communicate via phone, so that shouldn't be a problem.  Fuck it.  Fuck Facebook.  All it did was cause me unnecessary anxiety, jealousy, and cause me to be a nosy bitch that I don't want to be.  I'm done stalking people, I'm done looking at pictures of people's shitty engagement rings and lame-ass dinners... I'm done being reminded that seemingly everyone has a more perfect life than I do currently (or at least the pictures that they post are meant to prove to others just how perfect their lives are, in reality I'm sure they're probs covering up for a less than satisfactory existence).  I mean, I'm also sick of the bitch-fest posts and the online arguments people have and all of their dirty laundry that they see fit to air publicly on the interwebs.  There is just no winning with facebook.  If someone really wants me to see a picture, they can show it to me in person or email it to me.  If someone has breaking news, they can text or call.  Furthermore, I no longer have to make my relationship status evident to the rest of the world, because I'm a free bitch baby (to quote Lady Gaga). hahahahahaa.

 I am on a "break" from my relationship currently ("break"... WTF does that even fucking mean?).  I don't know.  My bf and I mutually decided that a 'break' would do us good at this point in our lives and in the relationship.  I mean, we've been doing long distance for two years now, so I wouldn't really say that we needed space, but the next move was moving in together, and that wasn't a feasible option given our current occupations and monetary incomes combined.  My bf has some personal issues he needs to fix before he can be a competent partner now or in the future, so he's off fixing those issues and here I am learning to be alone all over again.  After 21 fucking years alone, you can probably imagine how stoked I was to be in a committed relationship, so to basically ween myself off of the constant communication etc. will be presenting quite a challenge.  When I was single for the first twenty-one years of my life, I was miserable all the time, wondering why the fuck I couldn't get a boyfriend.  I probably could have had a number of boyfriends in reality, I was just fairly picky and looking for the right guy.  Nevertheless, I was miserable living the single life.  I suppose this time, I will take my singledom in stride.  I will cherish my life of solidarity and reflect on myself and aim to make myself an even more perfect person than I already am... hahaha, I kid, I kid.  We are still working out the logistics of the break, I just know that I am free to do whatever I want.   I told him the other night I wanted to go 'cold turkey' and not communicate at all, because I'm an all or nothing type of girl.  I had every fucking intention of not speaking with him until he had his act together again, but then he called four hours later.  Cold Turkey clearly didn't work out, so now we are trying to do one or two phone calls a day.  I know this is good for me at this point in my life, it's just so fucking hard to not have that constant support, love, and reassurance.  I mean, he was the first person I called when I was sad or had bad news and the first person I called when I was excited or happy with good news.  He is essentially my best friend at this point in the game.  Oh well.  I have no choice but to move on alone.  

I immediately started thinking of all of the new freedoms I have now that I have no ties or obligations, $10,000 in the bank, and every intention of quitting my job (as soon as I find a new one...).  My first thought was improving myself physically and getting ripped, but let's face it, I already am.   So now I will just make improvements to myself in terms of being emotionally impenetrable.  My new theme song is basically "Stronger" by Kanye West. hahahaha.   I thought about going back to grad school for a hot second, but I'm not ready to immerse myself in study and shell out $40,000 I don't have for the promise of a better job that frankly doesn't even exist in this economy.  So now I will allow myself $4,000 to travel to Europe, and the rest of my funds will be allocated towards an apartment in the city, once I finally find a fucking job.  I really want to go to Barcelona.  I'm not sure why, but that's my ultimate travel destination at this point in time.  Maybe I was inspired by Penelope Cruz's performance in "Vicky Christina Barcelona"... either way, I want sun, sand, gothic architecture, and Spaniards... jk.  I want to be alone.  Hooking up with someone immediately would defeat the point of me learning to be alone and live without constant attention.  I thought about joining the Peace Corps, but I'm pretty sure that's a two-three year commitment, not to mention I don't really fare well without decent living conditions, and I'd probs be gang raped knowing my luck. haha.  jk... that's awful.  Aaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!! (<----- how I feel).  Sometimes I'm sad I deleted all of those boys who used to flirt with me from my contacts.  JK.  Really guys, I'm just kidding.  I know that my biggest downfall has always been the fact that given my low self esteem, I seek constant validation and reassurance from others (especially the opposite sex) and today is the beginning of a new page.  I know I'm hot shit.  I'm smart, I have a dry sense of humor that maybe 25% of people get, I can cook, I can bake, I'm a freak in the bed and a lady on the street, and I am average looking... so that's better than ugly right? Jk. lol.   Sigh.  Yeah, I guess my self esteem needs some improvement... 

Speaking of attention, I was feeling real emo the other night, so I went out with one of my guy friend's in Oneonta.  We were walking out of the Black Oak Tavern when I saw a trio of guys walking up behind us.  The one in the middle resembled Bane from the new Batman... I'm talking a giant, scary, fucking ogre of a man.  As I turned the the corner I heard him shout "I would totally lick your ass."  Now just to make it clear, there were no other girls around as far as my eyes could see, and I was wearing jeggings, a sweater, and flats, so it's not like my attire was enticing this illicit comment.  Despite these circumstances, I still tried to tell myself that comment was being directed to another person... that is, until we got back to my friend's apartment and we turned to go in the door and said ogre came at me with a lusty look on his face, open arms, and a 'come hither' motion with both hands.  EW.  I mean, that's a pretty fucking vulgar comment, yes, but it still boosted my morale.  I mean, if my ass can still look good in jeggings, that's saying something. haha.  I've had random strangers tell my I was beautiful before, but the fact that a complete stranger said he was willing to lick my ass is a type of compliment that stands alone right up there with the best. haha.  (gross.).  

Today I got a start on being alone... I took my $50 blow up raft out onto Guilford Lake with a couple of plastic oars and paddled into the middle of the lake and back to shore.  I'm sure it was a sight to behold... pretty fucking humorous no doubt. But it was good exercise, and as long as I am kept busy I find that it's easier to forget about what my bf is doing.  I might have to start taking up kick boxing.  Honestly though, I've been wanting to take pole dancing classes, but they don't offer them in these parts. lol.  Those years of dance have definitely paid off in more ways than one... and I'd like to hone in on some of my more refined skills if you know what I mean ;).  I've been feeling pretty unbridled for the past couple of days... I find myself having illicit and illegal thoughts about running away to Amsterdam and popping Molly at a rave or techno concert and making out with tons of guys.  I find myself day dreaming about running away to Ibiza and becoming a cage dancer.  I find myself thinking about hooking up with an older man who will flourish me with expensive gifts and cocaine and take me on his yacht.  However, these are all just day dreams.  Yes, I feel the urge to rebel completely, but I won't give into my cravings.  This is a time to point my life in the right direction, and sugar daddies and titty implants aren't the direction in which I ultimately my life to head  (sadly). 

I hate work.  I don't want to go tomorrow.  Going to work makes me even more stressed and emo than I already am.  Honestly though, I only wish people understood what I deal with every day.  I mean, I know a lot of people have hard jobs and stressful jobs, but I don't think anyone really understands how my job as a manager at Mollister can be hard or stressful.  It's honestly hell on earth.  My associates/co-workers are the only thing that make going in worth while.  At least they're good people.  Sigh. 

At least I have a cute niece to cuddle now. lol.  

Thank God I'll Never be 19 Again

Seeing as how I am a bitch, and seeing as how it is partially my land (or will be some day down the road) I decided to check up on my brother's party in the woods to make sure that it was not out of control... and naturally it was.  I won't elaborate, because there is no need to, but I will say that I am so incredibly happy I never have to be 18-21 years old again.  In retrospect, those are supposed to be awesome years of one's life.  And I mean, I definitely had some awesome times when I was like 21-22.  But the mentality I was working with, just wasn't where it should be for someone who is handed so much responsibility.  I'm not talking about drugs or drinking; I'm talking about the fact that you are technically an adult, and able to make decisions for yourself for the first time in 18 years, and the decisions that you make are usually poor and unexperienced given the fact your brain hasn't yet matured and isn't thinking logically or of consequences the way that it would a few more years down the road.  I suppose that is what that age in life is for though- to live and learn.  I think we're all just fucking lucky we made it out alive to be honest.  There were definitely some questionable nights where I climbed into a car with someone who shouldn't have been driving.  Nights when I went to a sketchy, questionable person's house, nights when I made out with some questionable boys, or nights when my choice of dress and behavior itself was highly questionable.  I think when I was that age, life was mostly about trying to impress others- whether it was having the highest heels, the most boys texting me, throwing the coolest party, making other bitches jealous, or making guys desire me only to kiss them, tell them to fuck off, and leave them sad they didn't get the gold they were hoping for.  Sigh.

While those days were fun, I felt like I was in a constant state of sadness.  Something was always missing, and no matter how many guys were blowing up my phone, the fact that all of them were douche bags who basically wanted one thing wasn't exactly enough to fill that void in my life.  I used to be so emotionally hungover after every party, I don't know why I continued to party like three-four times a week.  You know the feeling;  it's the feeling you get when you wake up to the messiest kitchen you've ever seen, and it is in your house so you're the one who will be emptying those beer cans and scrubbing wine stains off the counter tops.  When you know that the thrill of wearing that sexy dress last night hasn't gotten you any closer to happiness or having a sustainable boyfriend who loves you, with or without that sexy dress, and once again you're alone... alone, sad, left with a mess, and a mean hangover.   I remember one sunday in particular, my two best friends and I woke up hungover and perhaps even more emotionally hungover.  One of us put on 'Man in the Mirror' by MJ, and we mustered the strength to scrub the kitchen.  Later that day, one of my best friends and I, still being severely emotionally hungover, swilled a couple cans of bud light (one of the only times I have consumed beer... don't judge, it was all that was left over from the night before) and listened to Jeff Buckley.  I'm pretty sure it ended with me crying when "I Know it's Over" came on, and I proceeded to throw an empty beer can on the floor, before I was forced to pull my shit together and go to play practice.  Even though that is a fond memory now that it is safely behind me, at the time that feeling definitely ranks right up there with the top five shittiest feelings I've ever felt and in my more mature mind, I am able to reason that that is a feeling I never want to feel ever again, and thusly, will take all precautions required to avoid said feeling in the future.

I didn't even feel bad standing there like a creep tonight.  Someone had to check in on those kids to make sure that the fire wasn't getting out of control or there weren't any acts of violence occurring.  I feel like such a pussy sometimes, but I honestly don't like drinking anymore.  The occasional glass of wine or two is nice, or like, a couple flutes of champagne... maybe a cosmo or two,  or a mimosa...but nothing extreme.  It seems that the last couple of times I've been hungover, I not only felt physically on the verge of death, but my emotional hungover was pretty nasty as well... you know you're in a sad state of affairs when you cry because your bf can't talk because he is at work.  And even though you know he is at work, you're just so sad with the hungover blues you HAVE to talk to him RIGHT NOW.  THAT is reason enough never to let myself get to that state of emo hangover ever again.  Ew.  Or when you can't eat at all for the first 3/4 of the day, and even drinking water makes you nauseous... but by the time 5pm rolls around, you're bingeing on anything microwaveable, out of a can, or carb-heavy.  Day's like those remind me why I prefer to not be hungover at all.  

I digress however.  As I was standing in the woods, completely sober amongst a sea of around 60 or so youths (yeah, I told you this party was out of control...wtf goes on?), I was so happy I was not one of them.  I was so happy to be an outsider looking in for once in my life, knowing full well that if they knew what I know now, they probably wouldn't be drinking beer around a fire in the woods trying to flirt with anyone willing to flirt back and trying to look cool.  I saw some chick wearing what can only be described as an outfit one might wear to a day-glo party; neon pink sports bra with some tattered, side-less white tee with day-glo graffiti all over it... to her, I say "wtf."  Get over yourself and your fucking sloppy side tattoo.  Clearly, it isn't nice to pick on others or devalue them based on what they chose to wear (I had to remind myself of the time I wore fishnets and a bodysuit... but in my defense, it was my apartment and it was a 'floozy' themed party), so I had to bite my tongue.  I hate seeing PDA too... shit makes my blood boil; I am sorry if I ever made out with anyone in a public space (yes, I am guilty).... I wish there was a way to repent for social sins. haha.

There is another thing I don't miss about going to parties- the dilemma of whether to crash there or go home.  Sure, if you've been drinking you should obviously stay the night.  However, there always came a point where you were sure you were sober enough, and all you wanted was to go home, wash your stale makeup off with some decent face wash, brush your teeth, down your own water along with two advil liqui-gels and pass out in the comfort and familiarity of your own bed.  Nothing is worse than waking up hungover with day-old make up on another person's couch... NOTHING.  That is almost worse than the hangover itself; waking up with day-old makeup on and a sore neck from sleeping without an adequate pillow... shudder.  Or going to bed without brushing your teeth ( I know it's gross, but don't lie, we've all been there) and laying on someone's nasty couch feeling the sugar from the alcohol eating a way at your enamel.... AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHhhhhhh!!!!!!!!  No wonder so many people drive home drunk!!!... I kid, I kid... (but not really).  At least now that two glasses of wine spaced out over the course of three hours is enough to satiate my thirst, I know that I can go an additional two hours without drinking and be perfectly fine to drive home when all is said and done, without the fear of having to sleep in something less than comfortable, and on someone's nasty ass, college couch.

In other news (I just realized this is how I often end my posts, lol), I finally heard back from a couple of the places that I applied to in the city.  I had an interview with Urban Outfitters this past Friday and am patiently waiting to hear back (they said by the end of this week!) and also have scheduled a phone interview with someone from Anthropologie who wants to discuss some available job opportunities in Manhattan.  I'm not getting my hopes up, because when I do that, they're always shot down.  So I am taking this for what it is worth, interview experience, and motivation to keep applying.  It will just be so fucking nice to wear something that is actually my style to work again, and to wear heels... :D   I'm so over flip flops and vans.

In other other news, I'm still waiting for the arrival of my niece... I hope it is sooner rather than later, because not only is my job such that I will have to see her on whatever days I already have scheduled off, but I haven't seen my bf in 6 weeks and am on the verge of bat shit fucking crazy right now, so I will also need to use days off to see him ASAP.

I have been able to enjoy my mornings off ( I generally work the closing shift; 2-11pm), and now that I am older I find that not only am I more alcohol intolerable, but I also find much more beauty in nature than ever before.  These shots are from my walk on the road that runs alongside our woods the other day... there truly is something to be said about Upstate, NY in the summer...

More random thoughts:

1.  If one more person of ethnicity asks me if my hair is fake, I may snap.

2.  I know I knock cheesy bitches all the time, but for one day, just ONE, I would love to know what life in the world is like for a person with DD breasts and bottle blonde hair and way too much makeup and cheesy attire.... I wish I could have all of these things for one day and then go back to myself. 

3.  I am so sick of guys and girls alike posting statuses about hitting the gym on FB.  Why is that even necessary?

4.  I am working on a new painting; it will be extra sexual.

5.  Thank God I'm not 19.