Into The Rabbit Hole

It’s Friday night, yay!!!

Here I am.

Alone.

I suppose there’s nothing wrong with that.  I’m pretty happy in my own company, and I know I’m doing this to myself because if I didn’t still have a million things I had to get handled, I’d be out soliciting my “friends” for entertainment.

So.

I guess I’m happy.

Lately I’ve been feeling more sensitive to people’s lack of consideration towards me.

I don’t know if I normally don’t notice it, or normally don’t care as much…

But I’m cursing at people more while I drive.  I am acting more sarcastically than normal.  I’m inwardly blasting people for being rude to me…

I know *this* is not me.  *This* is not behavior I like…

And, well, if I can stop the behavior of smoking, I better STOP acting like this.

*sigh*

I snuck my laptop into my bedroom.  I know this isn’t really very conducive for sleeping but I thought that maybe I’d be inspired to write more from the comfort and intimacy of my bed.  So, here I am… broadcasting from bed.

I can do this now, seeing as my guy’s away and I’m here on this holiday weekend all by my lonesome.

That sounds terribly pitiful, though I’m not sure that was necessarily what I was going for.  It’s just that, well, this is the beginning of my summer time.  I’m not quite done with school but am well on my way.  I made significant headway today.  I wrote up the experimental part of my paper and messed around with ChemDraw, a program that allows me to draw cool and crazy mechanistic pictures of the chemicals I made up.  I’m stuck on one tiny little part… inadvertently I used nitrate in my experiment, where I should’ve used nitrite, and while nitrate presumably wouldn’t have actually DONE anything, it did, and we’re not entirely sure WHAT I made, only that I made something new.  And that was awfully exciting, at least to my lab teacher.  And if she’s excited, well, hell, *I’m* excited.  And that is wonderful and stuff, but I’m still stuck because I don’t know how to write this paper if I don’t know what compound I created…

You all know where I’m at with my behavioral neuroscience paper… I suppose I’m not really ready to say I’m about to write that one, either.  I’m just… well, sort of waiting to hear something from my teacher there, too.  I am stuck between two places there:  On one side, I know that he has a purposeful task he’s researching, and on the other side, I wonder if perhaps he’s looking in the wrong direction for an overall solution to a picture that is much more broad than one can pin point down while looking at his research.  *sigh*

I suppose these are two problems that many people would love to have.  Hell, *I* love that I have them.

I’ve been in such a strange place lately.  I’m not depressed, really.  And I’m not overjoyed.  I’m just… I mean, how do I put this?  I’m a little blue, but I’m happy about springtime.  I’m determined to feel good and not be miserable this entire time.  I’m completely overwhelmed most of the time, but apparently that’s what I was going for because I created this experience… I am proud when I accomplish something “masculine” like mowing the lawn… and I’m proud when something I cook for myself turns out to be edible… so I suppose my self-efficacy is gradually picking up momentum.  So I’m glad that I can handle this stuff and all… especially when all of the challenging things seem to have rained down upon me all at once… I’m glad and happy and hell bent on surviving this well.  At the same time, I think maybe I’m a little bonkers.  I think I’m becoming more comfortable with that.  And it seems to be suiting me rather well.  Which is interesting, because all this time I was going for the Uber Sane role, yunno?  I was always trying to present myself as rational and reasonable, and as it turns out, I’m completely neurotic…

Of course, admitting it to myself seems to be doing me well.  It’s sort of like affirming that I love my beautiful body, only instead of losing weight, admitting that I’m a little crackers has sort of mellowed me out some.  It’s made me more allowing to myself.  That was possibly one of my biggest flaws– I totally denied any crazy business and then also forced a perfection seeking behavior to the point where, if I did make a mistake, I was completely knocked off my horse to the point of hurt pride, bruised intentions, and questioning my ability to do whatever it was that I was attempting to do.  Now, though, I make a mistake, and I’m like, “Meh, let’s try it a different way.” And I do, and the second way is a valid path, too…

What I think I’m getting at here is that as much as I’d enjoy being the top dog, I’m much happier being human.  I’m learning to embrace this hat, and I’m getting pretty good at it.  I’m liking who I’m turning out to be as a person, even if sometimes I’m a cry baby, other times a bitch, sometimes overly submissive, and most of the time, too busy to care how I’m coming across.  It’s quite the opposite of what, as a child (last year?), I was going for.   The over-achiever syndrome had its place in my experience, and it certainly got me to where I’m at now; however, as much as it was once useful, I think that it’s doing me some good just to BE, regardless of how I *AM* at the moment.

I suppose I forget sometimes that I should be a reflection of what it is that I want to attract.

Should I choose to actually demonstrate what I’m seeking to attract, I would be real, honest, loving, kind, considerate and gentle with myself.  Which I suppose I actually DO, most of the time.

Meh, we’re all human, and it’s perfectly reasonable for me to sometimes be off my game.  This comes back to the “I’m okay as I am” phenomenon.  Happily, I can say that acknowledging this comfortability with myself and my mistakes is coming a lot more easily… and I have succumb to far fewer self-beratings than I used to.

I get to thinking a lot… My counselor encouraged me to sometimes “get out of my head.”  Admittedly, this is a strange concept.  To get out of my head is to lose my grip, to lose control on my thoughts and to step back.  As fun as that is…

…I know she’s right, though.  But when I’m not listening to her advice (which takes up more of my time than actually adhering), I get to thinking.  I get to thinking about BIG things.  About pressing things.  About things I can worry about, problems I can solve, problems that are out of my hands.

For instance… Does it matter which Democrat we have running for office?  And what about racism and sexism?  Are we “evolved” enough to see past genitalia and skin color?  So many people just aren’t, when will we change?  And what happens if another Republican comes into office?  Will he fix what the last one did? CAN we fix it?  And what about the earth and her needs.  She cleanses herself. Does she discriminate, or am I also at risk?  And about this 2012 business… is it really the end of our era?  The beginning of some new consciousness?  The end of the world as we know it?  Will my greatest phobia, which is falling off the face of the earth, come true in a magnetic shift of the earth’s poles, as Einstein predicted?  And not only Einstein, but the Mayans, Nostradamus, and other clairvoyants/prophets all said something about this year.  And will it really matter WHICH president we have in office then?  And will it really matter which school the kids go to– or what my grade in Organic Chemistry was then?  And will it matter if they’ve found the elixir of youth and the right penis enlarging drugs and weight loss skin cremes and fat we can eat but can’t absorb???  Does any of this matter?!  What about my job, and money at all?  And what about these days lost without my loved one by my side?  Does it matter that time could be running out?  And what about pesticides and pharmaceuticals in our water….

*sigh*

I know, it’s out of control.  And I realize that worrying about any of this stuff is a negative prayer, and I DO believe in the power of prayer/ right thinking.  I want to reflect what I want to attract– the beauty and awesome-ness of this life; I want to experience every moment in joy and awe and wonderment… and as long as I’m thinking, well, I’m just not enjoying the moment as much as I could be.

So then what?  Do I become a happy hippie (which I’m already there, I think), and flit about the country meeting new and happy hippies?  Do I curse the almighty (albeit withering) dollar and start figuring out how to build my castle without money for stones?  Do I start watering my garden with only rain I’ve caught… and then remind myself that we live in the desert and that all of that water comes through our tainted atmosphere before reaching us here on the ground?  Or do I happily drench my thirsty roots with whatever I can provide them?  I am conflicted.

As much as I dread admitting it, the more kind I want to be, to this planet, to its people… the more jaded I think I become.  Sometimes I wish for ignorance.  It was much happier then.

What’s the opposite of dying? Thriving, maybe?

I feel like I’m waking up. This is what Springtime is for me. A re-awakening. My senses are turned on again: suddenly I am overwhelmed with the smell of fresh cut grass, blooming choke cherries, and the natural scents of the tree bark. I am reminded to observe smell. The spectrum of colors is awake again, and I can’t help but stop in awe of the varieties of colors found within such a tiny little planet. Amazing. I am drawn to touch the new growth, berries and stickers and soft bodies of freshly budding plants; my movements more excited… My routines are more fruitful and my music is turned up just a little louder. Amazing how a (my) human body can lie dormant just like a rosebush. I feed off of my plants doing well. I feed off of tulips and daffodils. I feed off of observing weeds grow six inches in a matter of days. It reminds me to grow, to thrive.

I was dancing in my kitchen this morning. I hadn’t even had my coffee yet. Just shake shake shakin it, Jameson the Dane looking at me with distrust, his head cocked.

Part of my peculiarity is that I appreciate the absurd. As I wake up, I’m more prone to play jokes on the expectations we have. Hence the dancing by myself in the kitchen. Hence the listening to classical piano while riding the bus. Hence the quitting smoking during a difficult time. I’m aroused by the absurd. Or perhaps, when aroused, I am absurd. *chuckle*

I love having the windows open. I love the music playing. I love nag champa burning. Bells from the neighbor’s wind chime float in on the breeze right through my window, and they dance with my houseplants. I love this season. I love remembering to wake up. I can’t wait for my partner to be home so I can share this with him.

It takes courage and maturity to recognize when something isn’t right for you.

Change is frightening, and sometimes we take comfort in just keeping the status quo.  However, as much as it’s frightening, stagnation can require much more energy from you than putting forth the effort to not only DECIDE what you want, but then to ACT and GET what you want.

Much of this life is a game, and the future is often unknown.  It’s unpredictable, and it can be awkward.  However, there are no rules to the game.  Ahem, let me rephrase that.  There are optional rules, imposed by our civilization, and should we choose to step outside of its boundaries, there are consequences, though we are perfectly able to choose to step outside of the boundaries, should we find the benefit to outweigh the possible repercussions.

Now, this is the simple overview.  Let’s make it a little messy by throwing in emotion.

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It’s completely pointless to wonder if you’ve chosen well.   Pointless to query whether the decisions you’ve made were an accurate reflection of the things you wish to represent you.   The facts of the matter are that there are NO right or wrong decisions, and that everything we do is an opportunity to experience this life– in the highs and lows, in the hopes and dreams and everything that is magnificently interwoven within the short time we have here on this planet.

I’m so fucking exhausted.  Emotionally, mentally, philosophically, spiritually, physically.

These are my choices, though.  This is the path I’ve ventured down and I’ve no desire to move backwards, by any means.  You don’t turn around every time the terrain gets rough.  You either find a way across the terrain or you find a new path.

I’ve no interest in finding a new path.

I just have to get past this sketchy spot– this gap in the road where I must fearlessly dangle or else fall down.  I am Rockstar.  I don’t fall down.  I may gracelessly fling myself at the other side, but I most certainly DO NOT FALL DOWN.

There are so many lessons I’ve gathered.  So much time now to sit down and reflect on them.  Analyze them, take from them my understanding of how my actions created the domino effect that led me to where I’m at right this minute.

To be perfectly clear… I feel this way every year during this time in the semester.

I feel drained.  I’ve seen this pattern in myself.  This is the time of year that I start going to the doctor asking, “WHY am I so exhausted?”

Well, let’s see here, Ash.  What could you possibly be doing that makes you exhausted???

*thinking*

The definition of insanity is to continue repeating the same behaviors– yet expecting something new to happen.

Is there truly something I could do differently that would make me less exhausted yet still maintain my Rock Stardom?

Ideally, I would like to have less on my plate.  I’m ready to settle down.  To lessen the force I put upon myself.  To not aggravate the stress fractures within my stable Rock Starness.

Apparently, though, I enjoy pushing myself to the brink of breakdown.  I want to see Just How Far I Can Go.

Fuck that.  It’s insane and…

Well, it’s me.

I’m totally an overachiever.  I guess I just get bored and have to take it to the next level.  Every damn semester.

So, either I LIKE feeling this way, or I’m crazy.  One of the two.  Either I’m doing it because I’m addicted to feeling exhausted, or I am the definition of insanity.

Great.

Put that in your pop can and smoke it.

Um… Did you know there are seven types of plastic? Some are easy to recycle, others are not.

You may want to consider this as you encounter plastics on your day to day life.

You all may recall my reasoning for ditching my Nalgene (RIP my formerly beloved security blanket)…

Well, here’s something interesting to know. Not only can I NOT use my Nalgene because the BPA in it makes my PMS out of control, but plastics like that are extremely difficult to recycle. Hmm. Gives a whole new perspective to Tupperware, no? What other craziness are we getting from our foods?
Also, I recently learned that there is a collection of plastics in our ocean– caught there in a vortex caused by current streams in the Pacific ocean. You’ll be amazed to know that this collection is the size of Texas! Greeeeaaat. So the marine life, attracted to the colors of our plastic waste that blows in the air from land to sea, consume the plastic. If we’re just now learning about the dangers of BPA on humans… what about the dangers of the fish, birds, and other sea life consuming all this plastic? It’s pretty unthinkable.

In celebration of Earth Day, you might’ve heard that Whole Foods has stopped handing out plastic bags with groceries… and you may know that many grocery stores are talking about charging for plastic bags… well some good news is that we don’t NEED more plastic bags… and that you can take your plastic bags back to King Soopers, and put them in the recycling container at the front of the store. If you local grocery store doesn’t already have a plastic bag recycling stop, the way they’ll get one is for you to start asking about it!!!

We can prevent more plastic waste from blowing around the earth– and being consumed by the wildlife that doesn’t know any better about our wasteful death traps, by being the tiniest bit proactive. Hey, even a little change is better than none, right?

My mind has been consumed by Beauty.

I have been seeking it in all things.  Sometimes stuff surprises me, other times I turn away in disappointment.

Women are innately beautiful creatures.  We have supple skin and curves all over the place.  We can be graceful, silly, and completely neurotic.  It’s a damn shame that so many of us are so afraid of what we are– so afraid of being taken the wrong way, accused of being un-lady like… or worse, accused of being ugly!

It’s a shame to see a beautiful woman who does not carry herself as such.

Do not be confused.  I am not speaking of wearing Maybelline and a push up bra.

I’m talking about beautiful, curvaceous, gorgeous-smiled women who walk with a slouch… who feel the need to post themselves in only the best light or the fairest outfit. Who are afraid of the perception that *gasp* they are humanly beautiful without makeup, without acrylic nails, without high heels and lip gloss and fake tans and strongly scented vanilla deodorant…

I find it hard to accept… especially since I’ve spent so much time working on my own acceptance of myself… my own confidence in that I’m perfectly wonderful AS I AM… and that with or without playing dress up, I am still me, and I am seen as me, by me…

It strikes me funny when I catch myself in the mirror.  I really am a beautiful woman.  I forget sometimes.   Perhaps we all do.

So, which is sexier:

A curvy woman who KNOWS she’s sexy and acts/talks/walks/etc like she’s sexy,

or a woman with a perfect body who is insecure about it and somewhat awkward?