I get too excited too easily. I get too invested too fast. Then it’s gone. It fizzles away. So when I do start to get excited, I try to remind myself that I don’t care. I like being single and I don’t want to be tied down by this thing called…a boyfriend? I get lonely though. And some nights, hugging the pillow just doesn’t do it for me. But gross…why do I talk like this? I can do bad all by myself. I like the single life. I do. I do. I do.
I’m beginning to realize that when I say those things, it’s because I’m trying to soften the blow so it doesn’t hurt when the disappointment happens. It reminded me of an episode of Mad Men. January Jones’ character gets a gig as a model for coca-cola because they were looking for girls with that Grace Kelly look. She’s thrilled that she finally gets do something more…more than the housewife routine she does on a daily basis. After a one photo shoot, the art director tells her, “Coca-cola wanted to go in another direction. Less Grace Kelly, more Audrey Hepburn.” She’s devastated. But when she gets home, she convinces herself and her husband that she never wanted to model. It was too fussy for her. She prefers being at home and taking care of the kids. She doesn't like whipping up a quick half-assed meal for her husband to come home to. She likes to take her time. She likes gardening, wearing aprons, and doing laundry.
In some ways I feel like her. I get so excited that I tell all of my friends about this new prospect. Then before anything can even happen, it’s gone. So to save face,I convince myself that I love being single. And in a way I do. I love the freedom. I feel independent and content with myself. I definitely don’t NEED someone in my life. But would it be nice—of course.
And then people tell me about the book,The Secret. “Don’t say things like that!” they tell me. “You have to put it out into the universe so that it manifests itself." Well I’m putting it out there then – I’m excited! I’m giddy! I like this feeling and I’m gonna enjoy the ride and seeing where it'll take me! And if in the end, it all goes down like the rest of them, that’s okay!
Because I can easily convince myself that I’m through with it.
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
hatin' on the club - pt 2
i didn't think much of the encounter at the club. i sorta saw it as affirmation that my mojo is back. not exactly a "omg omg omg omg omg!" feeling. more like a "yep...still got it" feeling. on a whim, i decided to call him. our conversation was reassuring. he seemed like a fun guy. a singer, apparently. a transplant from wisconsin who is an aspiring singer. a singer with accolades to his name. local celebrity, i guess. he told me he was going to feed the homeless later that night. i felt a mix of laughter and admiration. because, really...who says that? i was caught off guard but impressed by his giving nature. i was excited to hang out with him...BUT, i still wasn't feeling "omg omg omg omg omg"---yet.
on monday night my hip hop class at LA Fitness was cancelled so i decided to free up my night to hang out with this singer. i went to his place in k-town. when he came to get me, i was shocked at how...tiny this motherfucker was. not even short, TINY. i mean, talk about the lollipop guild welcoming me to munchkin land. was i that drunk? whatever, i kept an open mind.
i walked into his place and he told me "it's filthy." it wasn't filthy. it was unsanitary. it was a landfill. it was like a garbage truck manifested itself into a person and shat all over the place. piles of dishes from 4 months ago accumulating in the sink. gross. then i realized that since "singing" doesn't pay the bills, he works at a pot store part time. and for my birthday, he gave me some pot. at least the munchkin singer was nice and thoughtful. but as i looked at his place, i realized, he has a makeshift room in the living room--curtains separating the 3'x6' living room from his..."room". he's 31. with a makeshift room in the living room. whoa.
we were supposed to get yogurt but he couldn't find his wallet in the mess that is his life. so we sat on his couch and "talked." his actor roommate came home and the two of them started talking about their gigs. how they're rising stars. how they've worked so hard and this year will be a good year for them! they're gonna make it! i felt like a fly on the wall. i might as well have been invisible. when the actor retreated to his room, singer decided to continue to talk at me...not to me, but AT me. about his meeting with the VP of Clear Channel. and his meeting with some executives at NBC. and how KROQ will be playing his songs on rotation soon. listen, transplant, i wanted to say. i grew up in southern california. i'm immersed in the indusry. i'm jaded. this isn't impressing me.
every time i spoke up to insinuate "hey it's my turn..shut up," he just kept talking...and talking...and talking. i got so bored and felt so disrespected that i purposely tilted my head back and stared at the ceiling. he continued to talk..and somehow, he started talking about america and capitalism. how he hates corporations like starbucks and mcdonalds because "america wasn't founded on those princples. the people who came to america wanted equality and for everyone to get a piece of the pie. not to kill the mom and pop shops...the way mcdonalds and starbucks does....you're bored, aren't you?'
"kinda. but anyway, you're wrong." i told him.
"how so?"
i'm not one to talk about values or american history but, i had to speak up.
"well people who came to america didn't want equality for everyone. they came here because they didn't agree with the church in england and they wanted to practice puritanism freely. so they came here with selfish intentions. then on top of that, they killed off people who were already living here. then they created the constitution...for the white man. the constitution wasn't written to take into account minorities. it was for the white man to progress. how is that about equality and everyone having a piece of the pie?"
"oh. is that what they taught you?"
WHAT IN THE HELL!?!?!
"uh no. that's american history. that's what YOU should've been taught. it's in the textbooks."
"well that's not what i learned growing up."
"is that what they taught you in wisconsin? because it's wrong."
"this is weird..."
"yeah. well...that's what you should've been taught."
it was uncomfortable for a few minutes after. i was trying to figure out how to get out of the situation. he got a text from a friend and i immediately found that as my exit. "i should leave. i have work early and i have to get up at 6am." (i never wake up at 6am for work).
"okay. thanks for hanging out on a school night. are fridays usually good for you?"
"yeah. friday nights are good to go out." (and that's the truth...i go out on friday nights.)
"cool. i'll call you on friday!"
i walked out of his apartment and suddenly i felt it. the "omg omg omg omg omg omg" feeling. the "omg what the fuck was that?" feeling. the "omg he's like 2 feet tall" feeling. the "omg, he's stupid and thinks america was founded on values and princples" feeling. the "omg...i hate meeting people at clubs" feeling.
O
M
G
i thought this munchkin singer was cute?!?! this stupid, arrogant transplant from wisconsin...munchkin singer!? how drunk was i?!
got me hatin' on the club.
on monday night my hip hop class at LA Fitness was cancelled so i decided to free up my night to hang out with this singer. i went to his place in k-town. when he came to get me, i was shocked at how...tiny this motherfucker was. not even short, TINY. i mean, talk about the lollipop guild welcoming me to munchkin land. was i that drunk? whatever, i kept an open mind.
i walked into his place and he told me "it's filthy." it wasn't filthy. it was unsanitary. it was a landfill. it was like a garbage truck manifested itself into a person and shat all over the place. piles of dishes from 4 months ago accumulating in the sink. gross. then i realized that since "singing" doesn't pay the bills, he works at a pot store part time. and for my birthday, he gave me some pot. at least the munchkin singer was nice and thoughtful. but as i looked at his place, i realized, he has a makeshift room in the living room--curtains separating the 3'x6' living room from his..."room". he's 31. with a makeshift room in the living room. whoa.
we were supposed to get yogurt but he couldn't find his wallet in the mess that is his life. so we sat on his couch and "talked." his actor roommate came home and the two of them started talking about their gigs. how they're rising stars. how they've worked so hard and this year will be a good year for them! they're gonna make it! i felt like a fly on the wall. i might as well have been invisible. when the actor retreated to his room, singer decided to continue to talk at me...not to me, but AT me. about his meeting with the VP of Clear Channel. and his meeting with some executives at NBC. and how KROQ will be playing his songs on rotation soon. listen, transplant, i wanted to say. i grew up in southern california. i'm immersed in the indusry. i'm jaded. this isn't impressing me.
every time i spoke up to insinuate "hey it's my turn..shut up," he just kept talking...and talking...and talking. i got so bored and felt so disrespected that i purposely tilted my head back and stared at the ceiling. he continued to talk..and somehow, he started talking about america and capitalism. how he hates corporations like starbucks and mcdonalds because "america wasn't founded on those princples. the people who came to america wanted equality and for everyone to get a piece of the pie. not to kill the mom and pop shops...the way mcdonalds and starbucks does....you're bored, aren't you?'
"kinda. but anyway, you're wrong." i told him.
"how so?"
i'm not one to talk about values or american history but, i had to speak up.
"well people who came to america didn't want equality for everyone. they came here because they didn't agree with the church in england and they wanted to practice puritanism freely. so they came here with selfish intentions. then on top of that, they killed off people who were already living here. then they created the constitution...for the white man. the constitution wasn't written to take into account minorities. it was for the white man to progress. how is that about equality and everyone having a piece of the pie?"
"oh. is that what they taught you?"
WHAT IN THE HELL!?!?!
"uh no. that's american history. that's what YOU should've been taught. it's in the textbooks."
"well that's not what i learned growing up."
"is that what they taught you in wisconsin? because it's wrong."
"this is weird..."
"yeah. well...that's what you should've been taught."
it was uncomfortable for a few minutes after. i was trying to figure out how to get out of the situation. he got a text from a friend and i immediately found that as my exit. "i should leave. i have work early and i have to get up at 6am." (i never wake up at 6am for work).
"okay. thanks for hanging out on a school night. are fridays usually good for you?"
"yeah. friday nights are good to go out." (and that's the truth...i go out on friday nights.)
"cool. i'll call you on friday!"
i walked out of his apartment and suddenly i felt it. the "omg omg omg omg omg omg" feeling. the "omg what the fuck was that?" feeling. the "omg he's like 2 feet tall" feeling. the "omg, he's stupid and thinks america was founded on values and princples" feeling. the "omg...i hate meeting people at clubs" feeling.
O
M
G
i thought this munchkin singer was cute?!?! this stupid, arrogant transplant from wisconsin...munchkin singer!? how drunk was i?!
got me hatin' on the club.
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
hatin' on the club - pt. 1
on my birthday weekend i felt like i was the shit. i had my mojo. i had swagger for days. i was flyyy. when i went out with my friends on friday night, we danced up a storm at popstars (it's seriously like our version of cheers...you know, where everybody knows your name). as i was dancing, someone approached me from behind and said "you're a really good dancer." in my drunken state i blurted "thanks!" and flashed a smile. i looked at my friends and they raised their eyebrows hinting 'go talk to him!' i thought - why the hell not? it's my birthday!!! i started dancing with the guy and immediately wished it would end when he started dancing too. because MAN..he was bad. but i was determined to get a conversation out of this. i took him by the hand and dragged him off the dance floor. we had a conversation by the bar.
for the most part i can't even remember what we talked about. i just remember feeling a rush of adrenaline - almost like an out of body experience. was this really me? talking to a guy at a club? i don't even know how to flirt without sweat beads dripping down my forehead and here i was being ballsy and aggressive. honestly, the words we exchanged could've been gibberish, i was high off the feeling. and somehow i managed to ask this guy on a date. we exchanged numbers and hugged. "well, let's not be rude," i said. "let's get back to our friends tomorrow, we can figure out when we can hang out." slick. i thought. who was i?
i called him the next day. we had a pleasant conversation about the turn of events the night before. how he thought i was charming and a breath of fresh air. "i was glad you didn't pull me aside to have a make out session....you actually wanted to talk." he told me. after the phone call i was ecstatic but calm enough to remind myself not to get too head over heels. i couldn't even remember what he looked like. but i had a date lined up. i felt something different about this one. it felt new.
i couldn't really hate on the club anymore. i guess nice encounters happen there after all...
...to be continued...
on my birthday weekend i felt like i was the shit. i had my mojo. i had swagger for days. i was flyyy. when i went out with my friends on friday night, we danced up a storm at popstars (it's seriously like our version of cheers...you know, where everybody knows your name). as i was dancing, someone approached me from behind and said "you're a really good dancer." in my drunken state i blurted "thanks!" and flashed a smile. i looked at my friends and they raised their eyebrows hinting 'go talk to him!' i thought - why the hell not? it's my birthday!!! i started dancing with the guy and immediately wished it would end when he started dancing too. because MAN..he was bad. but i was determined to get a conversation out of this. i took him by the hand and dragged him off the dance floor. we had a conversation by the bar.
for the most part i can't even remember what we talked about. i just remember feeling a rush of adrenaline - almost like an out of body experience. was this really me? talking to a guy at a club? i don't even know how to flirt without sweat beads dripping down my forehead and here i was being ballsy and aggressive. honestly, the words we exchanged could've been gibberish, i was high off the feeling. and somehow i managed to ask this guy on a date. we exchanged numbers and hugged. "well, let's not be rude," i said. "let's get back to our friends tomorrow, we can figure out when we can hang out." slick. i thought. who was i?
i called him the next day. we had a pleasant conversation about the turn of events the night before. how he thought i was charming and a breath of fresh air. "i was glad you didn't pull me aside to have a make out session....you actually wanted to talk." he told me. after the phone call i was ecstatic but calm enough to remind myself not to get too head over heels. i couldn't even remember what he looked like. but i had a date lined up. i felt something different about this one. it felt new.
i couldn't really hate on the club anymore. i guess nice encounters happen there after all...
...to be continued...
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