Essen.Jura.Denken.

there is nothing wrong with the Midwest.

Last night I went to a concert. One of the bandmates was a friend of my boyfriend. They were friends through law school and so my boyfriend had never met his friend’s bandmates or fiance. 

When the fiance was introduced to us- I thought she was a very petite and pretty Indian girl. As the friend was a good looking dude, this seemed like a good match for him and I thought nothing of the match after our introduction. 

I wasn’t expecting that” said my boyfriend. Though it wasn’t a thought that initially came into my head- I knew exactly what he was talking about. 

“What- that the fiance is Indian?”I asked. He replied in the affirmative and went on to say that his friend was from a small town in Indiana- and though we were currently in Brooklyn- my boyfriend thought his friend’s Midwestern roots would lead him to someone less exotic… less brown… more… white. 

“That’s why we leave”I said in response. 

People in the city mistake the mass exodus of certain types of young people from the Midwest as something inherently wrong with the Midwest. That it’s just cows cows cows… pigs. That people are judgmental and there is nothing in our cities for us to love or stay for. For example, my home state of Ohio is called a “brain drain”- meaning that the young and educated leave for cities such as Chicago or New York. 

There is nothing wrong with the Midwest. There is plenty of opportunity where I went to college- and even some opportunity in my hometown of Canton. In fact, looking back and forward, it might have been easier for me to get a job in Columbus than it will be for me to secure something here in New York. 

Nor is it that there is “nothing” there for me in the Midwest- my entire family is there, my favorite bars, best friends, the best ice cream in the world, connections in the legal world. If I had stayed in Ohio I would have been perfectly fine. I would have been a lawyer I would have had a nice apartment and I would have been a career woman. 

So- I’d like to set the record straight- there is NOTHING wrong with the Midwest. Plenty of young people live there and plenty of people are out there doing great and wonderful things that will change the world. 

It’s not the Midwest- devoid of opportunity yet full of agriculture- it’s me. It’s my boyfriend’s friend. Somewhere, we were outcasts, maybe. Somewhere, we realized that we… didn’t fit in. We might have had some friends, some opportunity… but something was really missing for us. 

It’s not a fault of the Midwest- it’s a fault of the wandering and curious spirit. It’s a fault of not really fitting in or wanting to explore cultures and ideas that aren’t accepted or were thought of as strange. It’s my fault. 

Most of the people I went to high school or college with- in fact the most popular kids with the most friends- still live happily in Ohio. 

It’s just those that felt a little different or had ideas not easily expressed in such a setting- we had to go. 

And it wasn’t that we didn’t like our hometown- it just wasn’t for us. And we knew it… and we’re happier in the city where we can experience new people and cultures- Indian culture, Black culture, Hispanic culture, Jewish culture. 

So we could marry into those cultures if we wanted to. 

I wish everyone would stop calling the Midwest a shithole or reason that because I LEFT it- it must be the shithole they imagined. 

It’s not. At all. 

It’s just not for some people with expansive ideas or different minds or ideas that expand outside of it. 

It’s still a great place to live. 

the dying culture.

My people are the Kiowa people. 

I’m sure you’ve never heard of us. 

There are roughly 9,000-12,000 Kiowa left in the world.

Yes, the world. 

We invented the papoose and used to inhabit what is now Arizona and much of the West, but now we have one reservation tucked away in a shitty part of Oklahoma. The reason there are so few of us is that many of us were killed in a general racially driven greedy holocaust called “Manifest Destiny.”  On that reservation, there is no access to the basics. Child abuse is rampant. Most don’t know how to read. Many are drug dealers, creeping in secret garages to produce giant vats of meth. Poverty, drugs and abuse run rampant on our reservation and most reservations in the country. 

There may be one or two Kiowa lawyers, but there are not many. Perhaps one or two doctors. There are no Kiowas in government positions. 

I am one Kiowa in New York City. There may be two or three others. Most likely not. My mother came from the West, which is why I made it here in the first place. 

No one cares about the Kiowa in New York.

There is no Kiowa Bar Association.

There is no Kiowa appreciation month. 

There is no scholarship dedicated to the Kiowa.

I predict the Kiowa culture will die with my grandchildren. The whole beautiful, colorful culture will soon die. There will be nothing left of the Kiowa people except for the relics in museums, The Washington Red Skins and that absurd Chief Wahoo, amongst other things. 

There is not really even a cohesive group of Native American people together in the city because most of them are languishing in poverty back on the reservation. 

There is a Violence Against Women Act- passed by Congress which protects all classes of women- including immigrant women- from violence- and gives them a fresh start. 

Native American women were not considered or included in this act. 

Most people are in a culture but they are not proud  of their culture. Why? Most cultures- Irish, Chinese, Italian and Black are incredibly well-respected. There are people in positions of power in all of those cultures and the cultures will be preserved for the children included in them. 

I’m not saying this to point fingers and judge people- I’m saying this to remind people to appreciate and respect their cultures and how far they have come. Their ancestors. 

Don’t disrespect the culture by continual complaints and dissatisfaction. Your culture is not to blame for your failings and the failings of others. 

I see people around the city and the world complain about who they are and how they are treated, wishing they were different in some manner. 

But why? Wouldn’t it be best to accept your culture- and not only accept and love your culture but SHARE it with other cultures? Isn’t the whole point of a different culture to be proud of it, to use it to your advantage and to help others within the culture? Aren’t you proud of how much support you have within the community- and isn’t it pointless to complain? 

At the same time isn’t it also important to share your culture so people can better understand it? To not complain but to educate? 

People want to know about colorful and powerful cultures. To complain about a person not understanding your culture without first explaining it and helping them to understand it is not a failing of the culture or of the person who is culturally ignorant. It is YOUR failing. 

I have tried to share with people, the Kiowa culture. No one cares about it or tries to understand it. I don’t have a giant, proud support group that I can be a part of. Yes, sometimes I complain, but you would to if you people were continuously forgotten and insulted. If you were the only Kiowa to back… yourself up in an argument. 

Most cultures are luckily accepted and loved. It makes me ill to see people complain about their culture, or worse about people not understanding their culture. 

Because you have the means and the numbers to educate people. To really help people UNDERSTAND. 

Some people don’t have that. 

As we become a more mixed world, we can’t continuously complain and isolate ourselves within a culture. We have to be open and proud to be a part of one. To share with people our culture. To not blame things on our culture, but to welcome challenges. 

Kiowas are not outspoken and we are insular- all things that lead to disinterest and and the death of a beautiful culture. 

So, just next time you feel like complaining or hating the way you look or feel because you are part of a certain group… remember how far you’ve come and how proud you should be of your culture.

Stop complaining, start educating. 

finally gooping.

there is a detox that I have been wanting to try- “goop” detox.

I never had a blender for soups and smoothies, and I never had enough money to purchase all of the required greens. 

However, I have both now, so I’m finally going to do it through this week.

The reason is two fold- 

1. I gained a bunch of weight through a combo of no gym, lots of food and a new anti-depressant where I literally put on about 10 pounds in two weeks- I would like to start losing that weight. 

2. I’ve been taking anti-depressants since the very beginning of high school. I am now going to put myself into once a week therapy sessions to get to the root of my problems- not just cover them up with pills. I feel like a detox is a great way to start to clear out 10+ years of disgusting mind altering medicine and the cobwebs and film they’ve left in my mind. 

http://www.goop.com/journal/make/15/detox

The detox is at this website and after A TON of research it seems 

a. super healthy AND 

b. the most doable for me. 

c. This is the week that my skinny ass eatanythingIwant boyfriend is going to be out of town, so I figure it’s going to be easier to stick to when he’s not around nibbling on every little thing. 

I’ll be babbling about it on tumblr for people curious in such things and curious about the effects of a detox. This is the reason for more posts than usual. 

Today, I am going to kind of pig out, since you know, detox. 

:) 

typewrite illiterate.

as I choose to share my thoughts on tumblr I am not going to run through the gambit of shit I have been going through the past fews weeks.

Suffice it to say all of that shit led up to this monumental occasion in  which I exhibited the least flattering behavior possible.

Three things.

1. I cannot use a typewriter. It’s not that it’s the keys or the way it functions, it’s the alignment. I cannot get a piece of paper straight into the typewriter. I used to DREAD pulling out the type writer at my old officer (where, after 2 years I assumed a position of respect I was allowed to take an ENTIRE DAY to type up answers to interrogatories) and never dreamed I would use one again. Mostly, because I cannot functionally use one. 

2.  I have had some terrifying bosses. Two of my old bosses (who I love dearly, I do) used to throw rage fits all of the time, yell at me, yell at the other attorneys, throw things and sprinkle their personal affairs into the mix, which led only to more rage. The only time I cried in these surroundings  is when I thought I didn’t get into law school/wasn’t moving to New York whenI had planned to move there. 

3. I feel sorry for myself. Sometimes a lot sometimes a little. But I do. and when a lot, it’s extreme. Like, that Moby song plays in my head and I imagine puppies dying and look at children on the street “that I will never have” and just generally make a more miserable spectacle than was initially necessary. 

Today, after a VERY emotional episode of House of Cards mind you, I had to use the type writer. Only I couldn’t. I just could not. I cannot align things. I refuse usually to admit defeat and I always want to try, try again, but I cannot. My life saying is, “Impossible is nothing… besides typewriting.” Honestly. I should have said something to my boss but I was afraid. She’s so nice and thinks I am so capable and it turns out I can’t even type. It’s like you’re race car driver and you know all the complicated turns and twists but you can’t drive down a steep hill or something. Bad analogy? Maybe. 

I just sat at my desk. Tears were brewing as the blue court paper surrounded me. I ran out of paper. 

I sat at my computer and diddled. She came in, after rushing around by herself expecting her competent LEGAL intern (LEGAL mind you, just saying not TYPIST, not 60 years old typewriter capable intern) to have the shit done.

“There’s no way I can turn this into the court.” 

Oh. Lovely. My first thought was the group of paper was too thick and she should have bound them together  to look professional like you are really supposed to do. It’s federal court. in New York. 

My second thought was, oh fuck. Then I, without warning, without heed, starting crying. She looked and me and we both panicked. 

I SHOULD have excused myself, gone to the bathroom and washed up. I SHOULD have told her before she assigned me that I would do any bitch work she liked- except typewriting. 

I didn’t though- and she left for court and I cried and cried and cried withl two goddamn things to type out on my desk still.

She wasn’t letting me off that easy. 

I wrote her a note of apology, telling her that I was sorry and hopefully she is human and forgives me. 

Then I cried because she is chairperson of all of this shit in Brooklyn and I cried in front of her and how can I handle a capital murder trial if I cannot handle a fucking typewriter. Really!

Then I got outside, where the weather was rainy and I cried again thinking of dead puppies, Moby and children. Then I cried at my desk until I exhausted myself, fell asleep and woke up needing a shower. 

While I was facing this Everest struggle with the typewriter, I spoke to certain people. One told me to stop bitching and that I should quit law school if I didn’t want to be an attorney, one disappeared and one, (the best obviously) told me to grown up and figure out why people do not like me. 

oh, and to adjust my meds. 

oh, and that she loves me. 

A couple of meager tears leaked out. 

People don’t really like me. I am standoffish and then I try so hard that people can sense I am trying and then no one likes the girl who is trying so hard. 

I should grow up and stop thinking about dead puppies, children and Moby. 

I should like, get a hobby to take my rage and sadness out on because if I don’t I will honestly throw that typewriter out of the window and really get fired.

I SHOULD do those things.

BUT just because I cried and, my ability to not use a fucking typewriter made me upset at my ability to be a law student and person in general, does not mean I do not want to be an attorney. 

Just because people get down, doesn’t mean they don’t want what they’ve always wanted. 

People… when they fail at something so simple, like typewriting get upset and when people have been shit on for the past couple weeks, it makes MORE sense that they don’t feel smart and capable- it’s just you know, they want to try capital murder cases and they are crying about a goddamn typewriter and how awkward the whole thing was. 

Sometimes people DO bitch about their lives with no legitimate cause. It is, super annoying. 

I listen to people, but it annoys me because they are beautiful and smart as fuck and what the fuck. 

But sometimes typewriters get to people who are beautiful and smart and generally interesting- it just happens. They are the worst of machines. 

And so,even though I am standoffish, even though I cut my friends off sometimes when they are telling me about their problems because they are better than me and I don’t want to hear their first class woes- today taught me a lesson. 

People- just because they appear all together on the outside, or they are certain things that society envies- doesn’t make them any less vulnerable from the devastating hurt that  typewriters are capable of enacting. Maybe their dog died, they suffered a break up, they are thinking about the infinite black hole of death, they are going to miss out on the big game because of an injury, they are on meds. 

You don’t know. I think as humans, we all need to stop and think before we disregard people’s problems as mere bitching. 

Maybe they just need a little help. 

I guess that’s what I learned to do today. Because I needed a little help and I got what was coming for me from all of those days of disregarding peoples’ complaints. 

I’ll try and listen better. 

the break up with booze.

I have always had Laetitia in my life.

I had never been broken up with.

Never did I ever smash things against a wall, just to break them.

Never did I need a “break up playlist” 

Since I’ve been back to Brooklyn, I don’t have a Laetita.  I got broken up with. I’ve lost my wallet (this is NOT, in any respect “new’) and I definitely smashed things against a wall. 

I think sometimes life throws you signals, signs. I think those three things are signs for me.

Alcohol has played a large role in my social life,ever since I tasted my first Dos Equis in the back of a pickup truck. I never knew the awful path the taste of my first beverage would take me down.

Now,at 25, I do. I am a different person when I drink.I lose things, go into rages and temper tantrums. I am mean. 

I don’t know if I am going back home to Ohio to heal for a year and pick up law school there,or if I can heal here in Brooklyn. I am very independent, but everyone has a breaking point. I thinkI may have reached mine. 

Whatever I decide,I know that I have to stop drinking. My Native American Irish blood cannot handle the amount of alcohol I try to shove in my body.

I have lost a best friend and, dare I say it, someone who I truly loved. 

also,the fucking wallet. 

I need to stop drinking for my health and well being.  I miss the days at Ohio State when my boyfriend andI were almost perpetually drunk and he was so easy going that nothing would bother him. Ever. 

Those days are gone though. I am truly alone, in NewYork. No college. No family. No acceptability, rather,accountability.

And also those days flew away, the days need to come where I don’t drink for awhile. 

falling off the wagon/pre drank detox

First of all, Happy Birthday! to my friend Sam! It is her brunch I am going to later, so I figured she deserved a shout out :)

This pre- half training week was supposed to be an exercise in… exercise but it was mostly not. I went to the gym once and did yoga once. Next week I have to go EVERYDAY, so we’ll see how that pans out. 

It was also the continuation of my eating healthy… I kind of fell off the wagon in that respect too but realized an important thing about myself- I am a sad eater.

This week I had a variety of annoyances and some let downs (nevermind still reeling from the break up of a friendship) and I definitely let those feelings out with FOOD. 

I still managed to stay away from the Starburst- but there was a block of cheese and multiple bags of popcorn involved (low fat?)

I want to eventually eat CLEAN and blocks of cheese and bags of popcorn do not constitute as clean. They may not be bags of sugar, but I should have done something other than let my sorrows drown in dairy fat- which is a GREAT realization. I never thought I was a “feelings eater” but I guess I totally am. So now I look to alternative methods of dealing with feelings (these gym trips ought to help)? Also writing down the nice things that happened (vino with two of my friends, getting a compliment from my boss) should help balance. 

Good things… bring me to BRUNCH, that saucy, calorie filled midday boozefest. I do not get to brunch as often as I would like, but today for a birthday ,I will go.

And go hard- unlimited drinks? Yes, please.

But I do realize that I am old and kind of a rookie when it comes to drinking… and I KNOW after my 2nd mimosa I should stop but I won’t because they are really mostly juice, right?  And I want to get my money’s worth!! Then we are going to a bar that has ridiculous drink specials. ut oh. 

There’s something to be said for AFTER drinking detox- the advil the water chug, the food… but a BEFORE brunch/drinking/calorie bomb detox, healthy eating is worth a shot. This morning I drank two glasses of green tea, made a tummy soother smoothie (recipe below) and loaded my purse with an arsenal of life saving things I will need throughout the day. I figure this way at least I BEGAN the day with some good things!

Happy Weekend!

Tummy Tamer Wake up Smoothie:

1 handful spinach

1 handful strawberries 

2 quarter sized chunks ginger (less if you don’t like the taste)

1 handful frozen mixed berries 

splash of almond milk

optional honey to taste

Just blend everything together. The spinach and the berries are packed with antioxidants- the ginger helps sooth your eventual bloated brunch tummy. 

Day Drinking Essentials:  

6 advil (3 for you, 3 to share with hurting friends) 

1 bottle of ginger water (just water with a couple of pieces of ginger- will help stomach) bottles of water are useful because you can keep refilling without waiting for the bar tender

caffeine gum (I get tired from drinking and I don’t want to become anit-social) This gum I found on Amazon certainly prevents that 

Make up for touch ups

GUM/mints!

Tissues (because someone is probably gonna cry)

Take out any important things you DONT need (the keys to you office- you will not be going to the office after brunch). That way if you lose your purse, it won’t be too tragic. 

Happy Day drinking! 

I think this is what happens when you grow up, my Blog is growing up.

Essen, Jura, Denken (Eating, Law, Thinking), aka this thing that you are reading,  has been a great online support for me. I express my thoughts, I have a sprinkling of followers and people on facebook sometimes read what I have to write. This post is long, but it’s been a week in the making. 

It makes me happy that people take time out of their busy days to read my things- it’s flattering, even if it is just another excuse not to start that tax reading (hey- I absolutely feel you I WRITE posts to avoid general adulthood all of the time). 

Sometimes I’m complaining, sometimes I’m happy, sometimes I post far too many pictures of cats and recipes that I will never make. Like limoncello, which I realize requires a lot of vodka the purchase of which requires a real, constant paycheck. 

Sometimes, though I try really hard not to reach out and tell personal feelings- generally I  later delete or regret or look at and say- “this isn’t a Xanga account, people don’t want to  read about your personal voyage of feelings.”

I feel like sometimes this helps people though. Runners. Law students. People that are just depressed. People in a New City. Poor people. Under confident people. Midwesterners. I am all of those people and these types of people need people who are people like me/them.

A lot of things have changed since I started EJD you know? Growing up? It’s not that great yet it is SO great. Not that I can’t do awesome things like eat bags of candy, spend all of my money on ridiculous footwear, go on wild drinking binges and not exercise for months on end, stay in my room and talk to literally not ONE single person for weeks, roll my eyes at authority figures - as an adult I can literally do ANYTHING. It’s just that now I realize those actions have consequences. The dual awesome/awful nature of it all. Thrilling.

Most times these things are MY fault and my consequences to save and sort through at a later time, or sometimes they don’t wait and I have to actually face them with a sinking stomach and sweaty palms.

Being an adult is looking at what I am doing and making changes.

Too much candy? Get RID of it, out of your house… check.

No gym time? Spend 90 dollars of my hard earned babysitting money to sign up for a half marathon. Money is SO precious to me that I simply have to do the half marathon. Check. 

Confidence down? Start writing/blogging/reading things about inspiring woman/sign up for said half marathon. Check

Bad Temper? Switch Meds. Check. 

Want to participate in class? Read. Check. 

No, I will not stop drinking, not stop recreational drug use, I will not stop staying out late, I will not stop exploring the limits of my body or putting myself in semi-awkward situations. I will have a terrible temper and other annoying little things. And I’ll never be short and cute and I really just need to stop wearing 5 inch heels because no one ever wanted to date a giraffe.Even though I think I look fucking GREAT in them- maybe they are better for prancing around my bedroom dancing to Rupaul’s WORK IT than out on the icy street of NYC. My long awaited point isIt’s fun to make mistakes and though twenty five is oldER it’s not a death sentence on self-exploration and fun (NO age should be as a matter of fact) - yet I do have to start taking responsibility because it’s not my only mom or Mrs. Watts my first grade teacher I am going to disappoint when I get a bad grade or do something professionally dumb, there are real, legitimate consequences for which I am solely responsible. 

However, this responsibility taking is not near as bad as another part of  adulthood- and that  is the awful, hard, terrible realization that sometimes you will do everything perfectly and in the best way you possibly can and it will still fizzle out. It will. It happens. Everything your parents tell you about being a good person- well, they left out the part that, even IF you are the best person on the planet, people don’t care. You will get hurt. Sometimes. 

I don’t want to go into detail or send bad vibes to people, but this happened to me with people, semi-recently. I found myself asking myself, asking them- am I boring? Did I gain weight? Was I really THAT mean? Am I starting to smell like an old woman already? Are my law school friends pretentious? Am I just that crazy? As a law student that boring? At 25 no longer sexy? No longer fun to go to clubs with and get free drinks? 

I am hip, dammit, I tried to say to myself, sounding like a 90 year old woman convincing herself she could still get jiggy with it.. I thought of all of the things I could have done wrong and I could do better. Certain things came up absolutely, but generally nothing really came up. In the grand scheme of things I think I am above average at most of my undertakings. 

But still the lingering doubt. 

Also the enormous crushing fear of being alone- I am not religious and I really don’t want to spend the time fooling myself into being such again, so the fear of being alone is more carnal than ever. 

Was I SUCH a boring little rod? 

Should I start wearing tight tops and eating the tops of celery (WITHOUT peanut butter) so I could fit into these tops? Get a weave? Learn an instrument? A sexy language ?( I am bilingual people but German is not sexy) Read wikipedia on the reg and pretend I know things? Become a drug dealer so at least people would like me for the drugs? Did I need BOTOX already?? Should I stop talking about how fascinating and complex the defense of rapists is? Exclusively listen to ONLY Billboard top 100 songs? Acquire a street name? (I’ve thought about this extensively).

Suddenly, it came to me. The fears and reasons that caused these people to act this way, had little to do with me or what I was doing with my life. Some to do, maybe, but little. Very little. Certain things are unacceptable. 

Ending a friendship over e-mail. Unacceptable. 

Freaking out about one comment I’ve made. Unacceptable. 

Telling other people lies about me. Unacceptable. 

This is what I learned. Certain things are not my fault. If someone is no longer interested in me in a romantic capacity or friendship capacity and I’ve examined everything and I am HONEST with myself (which is hard but it’s doable) and there is nothing really wrong, then it’s not my fault. 

I think that hurts worse than any responsibility for any mistake I’ve ever made. Because, I mean, at least I fucked up and deserve it. It’s hard to face the cold, hard truth of being a good person, and sometimes it not mattering. It’s colder than the D, that’s for sure. 

For a second I thought this was a green light to go ahead and get really sexy, obtain a lot of friends through match.com or whatever the friend version of match.com may be, and just post sick pix all over my tumblr, facebook, NEW twitter account and instagram account, where my new name would be along the lines of: LIVINMAHLIFE!BITCHZYOLO! or something like that. My transformation would be complete only when I was a total bitch to all of my old friends and exes that did not fit to my standards.  

Then I thought… ew. 

Just because you get shit on sometimes, doesn’t mean you should stop being a good person all of the time. It’s not really about how other people feel- you should be a good person in part because people generally like good people, you will find new friends. More important than this is that you feel better yourself when you are a good person. About yourself. At the end of the day,even though your boyfriend told you you’re not intellectually stimulating, but you just killed it in class earlier- be nice. Stand up for yourself against him, but don’t get bitter. (This has nothing to do with my boyfriend by the way he’s fucking great-just girls’ largest complaints seem to be about men). Be at peace because you’re a good person. I think the adult version of a good person is not so much a doormat, is not so much a “nice guy/ girl” that actually requires reciprocation for being a good person- but the kind of person who is good because it makes THEM feel good- and it brings them peace at the end of the day. It’s the best version of being selfish that I can ever think of. 

So that’s what I learned. I wanted to share it because I think other people have a hard time with learning this fact and turn into awful people because of one or two bad experiences. Then we have horrible bosses, stuffy, horny old men, vodka soaked divorcees, hoarders and Republicans. Because no one told them it was OK to sometimes get shit on. That they should stand up for themselves, but maybe lose the bitters. 

I am just glad I learned this now- because though  YOLO is and incredibly DUMB idiotic saying, but it’s true. Now, hopefully I can enjoy my youthful adultness with a little more ease. (EMYAWLME)

it’s almost time for me to go back to New York again. 

I always forget what a huge comfort&support my family is to me- and how lovely it is to just sit at home and relax and look through old photos, eat and laugh. 

I am so lucky to have all of my family members and I am so lucky that they are all happy and healthy. We plan marathons, make fun of things together, eat together, etc. My family can just sit around and be happy. 

There have been TWO times this break where I have been extremely unhappy- and both times I talked through the problems with my family- and things have been gotten so much better after the talk. 

I always wanted to stay in New York when I was done with law school- but it’s so nice to have family closer by that i am kind of rethinking the whole scheme- because family is so important.

The dream to live in New York has been great thus far and I really love the tight knit group of law school friends I’ve made- but thinking about when I get done with school- I don’t want to be the lonely person who makes a Lean Cuisine in her apartment- “living the dream” in the city. I don’t really think that’s so much of a “dream” anymore-  I think it’s actually kind of sad for someone who likes to be surrounded by light, food, family and light. 

Not to say my goals aren’t still finish school. pass bar. get job. apartment. dog. learn how to play banjo (literally in that order). Not to say there aren’t TONS of benefits to living in the city and being a part of such a large social and cultural scene. 

But when I moved to the city- I never thought I would see my family only once a year. I would like this to change. The city is the best place for my career and I will stay and grow a garden, have my dog and we’ll plant some roots- but the fact still remains that I wish I could have it all- my family, my career, my city and my dog. 

I am just really going to miss them. 

2013- won’t be unlucky because I have a wavy cat

Rappers are always saying “Imma do me.” Mostly, I thought, what the hell does that mean? As a 7th grade die-hard of DMX, I was under the impression it meant a variety of dirty things. 

If I am honest with myself, I believe in a plethora of things.

I believe in luck.

I believe, when off of my meds, that strange terrible things will happen if I get rid of a broken perfume bottle. To my family, friends and everyone else. 

I believe I am sometimes a reclusive, terrible, bad person. I mean when I come home, my sister has all kinds of friends to hang out with… and I don’t. I spend my nights online window shopping and arguing with my dad about watching the 2006 Fiesta bowl for, literally the 10th time (and honestly, I wouldn’t have it any other way, the older I get, the more I love and respect my parents). But still, my friend retention level is low(ish).

I think New Year’s resolutions are stupid because they fill the treadmills at the gym and I can’t get on one. Then I have to go outside where I run like a snail because I am afraid to fall on ice. and my yoga class is full. it just gets out of hand. 

But, I think I’ve corrected some of my selfish problems with each passing year. And that has to count for something. 

I am not there yet, of course, but I am sure I will get there, wherever there might be. 

I think this year if I HAD to make a resolution, it would be to DO ME… as in do the things I want to do. I feel like if I do that, everything will fall into place. 

I always think and plan and worry about the future and what other people will think of me. I am always worried about people that are prettier than I am. Always, because in my head I am still the awkward one with the unibrow. 

This is stupid. I am not going to turn into someone else over night.

Also, what other people think is crap, all I have to do is be nice and tell the truth and if people don’t like it I shouldn’t care. 

SO. even though I think resolutions are stupid I am going to make a list. On Tumblr. so I can remind myself of these things throughout the year and hopefully do them. 

Call my mom everyday because she needs me and I need her. 

Stop thinking everyone is talking about me. Just like I don’t care what they are doing, they don’t care what I am doing. IF they do, I am flattered.

Get rid of old shit. 

Learn how to take nice pictures & post them.

half marathon. 

live.in.the.present.

get rid of people who don’t respect me.

Go on an ADVENTURE with my best friend (to be discussed).

Call my Ohio friends more 

Get to work & class on time

Cook

Better posture 

Generally, I just want to be nice to people and be happy with my body and my intellect. 

Easier said than done, but at the mall today, I found a heads-up penny.

Luck.