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I'm not here to inspire doubt, only to provoke thought.

Wednesday, December 8, 2010

"I'm going to need you more then you need me"

The truest words that I have heard in a long time. Who would have thought they would have come out of character Maggie M. in the new movie Love and Other Drugs. It always saddens me when I feel like a screenplay took the easy way out. Note this is not a spoiler alert, but Maggie is sick and struggles with the idea of falling in love, knowing that here sickness is terminal. "I'm going to need you..." is in this case taken quite literally. She will need to be taken care of, however, don't we all?

As those words came out of her cynical, horse mouth it moved me. It did not matter what her character meant by those words, but how they apply to almost every "broken toy" I have ever met. I felt in my core, everything I have been trying to figure out seemed to all come together with this relatively minuet statement. The way I am, how I react to things, the way a small movie quote can quite literally turn my life upside down is exactly summed up to this statement or something very close to this. I need more. I have been viewing this as others short-comings instead of my own. I'm okay with needing people more, I just don't want to have to ask.

Thursday, December 2, 2010

Should I Not Be Thankful For

Am I so selfish that in moments when I read another writers work that I can not appreciate it as much if I know them personally. If there is a kudos given out and I am not included in something that I find reasonably apart of, I deem the writing to be a waste. Yes, then I have answered my own question I am that selfish.

On the other hand I find this selfish and self adoring aspect part of myself I somewhat like. Majority would disagree agree with my arrogance and see it simply as being self absorbed. But the thing is this strange sense of a strong place amongst people has brought me to meet some amazing people. I have found myself in places that without my absurd confidence I could have never gained entrance. And every time I have not been acknowledged by those I wish to be, I have a unstoppable force to gain whatever it is I seek from them.

I am glad. Simply I fight for those I love and adore. I have a ridiculously huge ego. It has been hurt, set aside, ignored and cut from its knees once or twice before. But it lives and breaths to this day. Stronger every time it comes back. I have learned through people, circumstances and events that it can be easily taken down to size, but evermore it lives. I like it. It is that voice telling me do better, when I thought the best had been done. My ego prides itself on the people I chose to be around and will defend them when it believes they are the right way to go.

So thank you writers. Thank you parents. Thank you fellow artist. May are egos meet someday and recognize the beauty of our self assurance.

Thursday, November 25, 2010

Safe Sex

After the age of 20 it seems important to entertain the idea of "safe sex". The idea of wearing condoms and being honest with your partner about were your whereabouts have been before said person is a very nice and responsible idea. Protecting yourself physically is key.
However this is not what troubles me, the physicality of the act. We at this day in age can actually end a growing fetus inside the womb of a women if we so choose. We can take a small pill and live out the rest of our lives with little or no notice to the fact that we are carrying around a sexually transmitted disease. It's the idea that no matter how much control we have over the physical consequences of sex, we still can't master the seemingly simple balance of the emotional after effects of this action. This hurts me. Not even for myself, but for everyone else who thinks they either do have control over their emotional reactions or have just given up all together.
A good friend of mine and I were talking and discussing things about the idea of sleeping with someone new. She said, " I do not want sex to be my token." I completely understood, and for all to many of us sex is the golden ticket. Women find that if they give it away like the next gift with purchase they are going to be enjoying attention that however may be short lived is none the less able to be enjoyed. This is not protecting yourself, each time your body is given away, you are either letting a piece go or taking a piece of someone else. I'm no angel. This does not go with out saying that I myself have experienced my fair share of rodeos. But I long for the idea of the passion of waiting, to protect what is mine and mine only to give. It is still beautiful, making love is still just that. Share with your partner all the things you can not find in words. Men too. Stop tossing yourself out there. Let me get to know you, your likes, dislikes. Maybe we share a few. Sex will always be a option, the chance to meet someone who makes you feel alive again, far and few between.

Friday, November 5, 2010


When I started the new job he was nice enough. At first I did not notice him. The stress of a new job and trying to absorb new information is distracting of course from the attention of a new suitor. Winter was the name of the girl who was deemed my "trainer". I do not think it is possible to find a girl who hates her job quite as much a poor Winter. Every word that came out of her mouth sounded as if it took every ounce of energy she had in her body to push it through her lips. She had a soft voice and warm brown eyes, but substantially lacking in any personality. Making my training a very uneventful and wearing process. I have learned when people find themselves in these situations, they look for some source of entertainment.

His name was Matthew. His baby face was very inviting. The visits started very casually. A hello here, a few minute conversation over there. Nothing to serious. Before I knew what had happened, I knew his childhood stories and had small inside jokes going about. If a sick day was necessary it did not come without regret and a explication the next work day together. Zodiac signs and favorite colors become known. A friendship developed. Boys and girls only play nice for as long as humanly possible. Matthew would let his interests be known.

Matthew has a wife and small son.

The story ends.

Monday, October 11, 2010

"That Guy"

"Last night." To all too many this is all that needs to be said to a close friend. The look in your glazed eye's and the vomit on your dress does all the talking for you. Then the explanation of last nights sequences begins and it is shown how the next morning's monstrosity came to exist. And it is "that" friend you have to face. The friend that rarely if ever has to say "Last Night", and it's that friend that is only one you knew would answer the phone or stay by your side to hold your hair back when you are throwing up holding everyone else's night up. Your "That Guy" and you have to face it, in the morning and the only thing worse then facing "That Friend" is having to pack up your shit and go home sit in your cold shower get out wipe of the mirror and stare at yourself.

You think to back when you were a kid and when you saw your parents fight and people being treated unjust. Even with all that information you were processing you never thought it could be this bad. You never thought you would be the person who goes into the bathroom and looks in the mirror drunk, glazing at your reflection knowing you should stop and pick up a glass of water and make for the nearest exit. But you don't, you take a deep breathe look one last time and reassure yourself that your only having fun and people will forgive your indiscretions due to your over-whelming alcohol intake. Even maybe saying it out loud, "I got this, I got this, I'm good." The lying helps. However people don't forgive and even more rarely forget.

It's not always substances, it could even be a relationship, toxic and decrepit. But you hold on. Telling yourself over and over this time is different. This is love. The pain is what makes it worth it. Knowing all to well where he/she is or has been. Turning the other cheek to classic signs of deception. It's consumes almost worse then any drunken haze or blindsided drug trip. Your heart races uncontrollably and you rational thought leaves you completely void of a progressive action for the better of yourself. Then if it becomes blatantly obvious that you can't be enough, you become spiteful and vengeful. And still even though you might have originally been the victim, you've become "That Guy."
Or you crave the conflict, you know undying that you are the problem. Not the other person. You want to feel something, so push and pull until something gives. Until your the one who is uncomfortable and things have pushed to far. Either way, your loosing a uphill battle.

There it is laid out on the table. Every single person can relate, everyone can understand in one form or another. It's "That Guy" who shows us who we are capable of being when we never in even our darkest hours could have ever believed we could come too. How many times do we need to meet him, until we understand we don't like him. Maybe even hate him. The sick feeling your left with not only emotionally but even physically it is there every time. The hollow shell he leaves behind for you to live in.

Tuesday, October 5, 2010

5 Year Plan

I have recently discovered that in order to not come across as a complete piece o' shit you need to have some sort of direction. People enjoy talking to others who understand what they want and where they are going. The conversation I had with a close friend still haunts me, even today. We talked about the laundry list of accomplishments and traits that it would take to really have me appreciate a friend, colleague or even a lover. It was ridiculous the strenuous tasks that is would take for a person to even jump out at me. For instance, " Musically inclined, but athletic." No not impossible to find, but what kind of asshole am I to state that and think that is should be some sort of requirement on my poor needs list. It's the guy that didn't like football who first picked up the guitar pick, why take that away?

The idea of a nomad is attractive to a lot of us. We as people love and hate those who can do the things we can not, free spirits. But you can not depend on these people. Not one person that I have ever some across has mentioned a spontaneous person that will pop up occasionally in any sort of plan. I don't have one either. But I also don't have a plan.

When I was running the other day, trying to clear my head, it seemed as each step hit the cement and the shock ran up through my ankle to my knee and up my hip, the thoughts in my head just seemed to get more and more mixed up. There wasn't peace here anymore. It was the running that made me realize this, but it was the lack of drive in a thought. I can't stop and focus on one movement or idea. I get unsatisfied and move on quickly. I need a plan I can stick to. I need someone to hand me there laundry list and have me try to impress them.

Tuesday, September 21, 2010

The Obvious.

I hate the word Obvious. It's a bad word. The only reason this word was brought into a human vocabulary was to make you feel like a fool. When someone tells me something is obvious they might as well be telling me to go fuck myself. The reason being, is when a person is struggling the answers aren't always so black and white. The Answer is not always "obvious" to us. If it was (and this is giving a lot people the benefit of the doubt) we would do it. The majority of humanity no matter how cynical would plug in the proper solution and fix the problem. This is just simple mathematics. But it is not that simple, the different emotions constantly pulling our mind and souls in different directions, showing us what certain decisions would do to the outcomes of situations doesn't make any one choice an obvious one. There is a grace period of weighing our options and looking at the risks that we are susceptible to.

With that being said, think it out. Do not feel guilty that you don't know what to do, regardless of how many people in your life are so quick to tell you the "obvious" path to which you should take. Be not afraid to make the wrong choice. You did it for your own personal reasons, whatever they might me wrong or right. We are people, in this crazy life together all trying to reach some particular goal. And sometimes are goal is not even "obvious" to ourselves. So I encourage you all to that the time, weigh the pros and cons, maybe even get your feet wet in all the different avenues that life choices might take you down. And never let a silly word such as obvious, stop you from feeling like you might want to do something else. Because the word is obsolete, it's not real. Make you life one that not one person could say they saw coming. You'll get where your trying to go. I promise. Whatever it takes.

Thursday, September 16, 2010

You can't have the truth without those lies...

When you are lied to, you find out who you really are. It's really that simple, its that cookie cutter. Debated, this is assuming that you have found out you have been lied to repeatedly by someone. You learn how strong or sadly in most cases how weak you are. You learn what people can get away, how you can be played and how you can be manipulated by people that obviously understand your vulnerable areas. Mental attacks are a bitch. There is no seeing them coming and even if you do have a idea that they are coming you can never tell in which direction this is actually going to come at you in. And in the best (however) rarest case you actually prove stronger then you or your "opponent" thought. Good for you, you are a bigger person then I.

There seems to be lessons that are learned and burning hate and motivation that I can feed off of for the next 6-8 months of my life. I need that. It's a strange realization. So maybe the joke wasn't on me, maybe I am not the village idiot. I like the bitterness. I enjoy the hurt, please show me you don't care, let me feel it like hot iron pressed up against my cool flesh. I want to submerge my self in the heartache, everywhere I turn I want it to be there, reminding me of the unforgettable lesson of betrayal that people can teach one another. Am I your pupil or your victim? Well I guess that is all in perspective. The only worry I have is that I might not learn the lesson, I may not find the truth. Because I love the lie, I don't know how to be alive without the pain.

The common rules amongst men these days is keep your business to yourself. Watch your fellow man fall to the avid world, and do nothing. Turns out we are only victim to the rules we live by. I decide when to stop or keep going. So I guess the people around will watch me fall, and I will give the same courtesy? No. I won't. The common rule can go fuck itself. I will walk amongst the gladiators of men. "Victory favors those who pay in pain." So let it happen. If I am left alone in my arena then let it be. But I no longer belong to the common rules, I no longer belong to you. Your weak. But not all can be strong. Through you timorous lies, I have seen the only truth you have to offer. I'm not impressed.

Settings - we heart it / visual bookmark

Settings - we heart it / visual bookmark: ""

Sunday, September 12, 2010

Where did you come from....

The character Jax Teller from Hit Series, Sons of Anarchy. Is not only undoubtedly gorgeous, but his character on the show is absolutely intriguing and thought out. He is a complex character dealing with the major decisions of a high powered motorcycle gang in California. Recently dealing with the kidnapping of his newborn son, he is forced to make major choices for the sake of his club, child and reputation within other gangs in the area. He is having trouble cooping with his son being missing and putting his club at risk for appearing weak. In the end of the first episode of season three, he makes up his mind for what he is going to stand for, sending a strong message to other rival gangs such as the Irish. His relationship with a beautiful, brunette doctor is put in jeopardy when his is going through his mourning over his son. Their future is still to be seen. Charlie Hunnam is the actor that plays this role.
Ending on that note I just have to say, Jax Teller, I love you. And it hurts me that you don't really exist.

Thursday, September 9, 2010

Diet Coke

There is almost nothing better then an ice cold Coca-Cola. I try and imagine a world where I enjoy anything as much as I enjoy drinking a fountain Coke on ice. It's hard for me though. I have been finding in efforts to keep my ass at a decent size that diet Coke is a reasonable alternative for a soda lover , but there is still that "something" missing. However, diet Coke I don't want you to blame yourself. It is inevitability in my head, always has been. I can settle for nothing but the best.

This puts a damper on most of my relationships, life choices and material positions, not just my beverage choices. I can not help but taste the clear difference in quality as I compare things to the way they once were or could be. There are the rare occasions that I am enjoying the crisp and refreshing sensation of moments, but they are only to be meet to with the overwhelming urge to hoard because the experience could be taken away at any moment and the realization that these feelings come few and far between sets in. Shitty for lack of a more compelling or articulate way of portraying feelings. However I have a secret, sometimes, just sometimes...I truly enjoy a diet coke. For exactly what it is. A void filler. Fuck me right.

Saturday, September 4, 2010

So I've Got Scars Upon My Cheek...

I am disarray, demanding, cold, sarcastic, emotionally fucked and unstable. I find it shocking when someone can not tolerate me. Not just shocked but even offended that someone is incapable of sure coming to the emotionally abuse I would more then likely put them through. I have looked to faith and spritiual renforcements for answers, at times screaming God's name is repetition in hopes that some divine power will interven on the train wreck that I call my life. I have looked to the science of psychology expecting to much. I went into this thinking that concrete answers would help, but I can not comprehend a chemical imbalance in my cerebellum is the reason I can not accept rejection or abandonment in any form. Philosophy was a option. But I can not crawl that far up my own ass to be able to embrace the message these teachers are undoubtly trying to convey to the world. In the end I am uneducated and alone.

"He's a font of misplaced rage. Name your cliche: Mother held him too much or not enough, last picked at kickball, late-night sneaky uncle, whatever. Now he's so angry, moments of levity actually cause him pain... give him headaches. Happiness, for that gentleman, hurts."

- Garland Green

Tuesday, August 31, 2010

That Afternoon

It was a warm April afternoon. Downtown on the river was a wine walk. I was wearing a white long sleeve shirt with a brown plaid vest. It was ridiculously hot outside for this outfit choice, but I love the way it looked. I was with some friends and my new roommate. With the roommate, was his flamboyantly gay friend Austin. A "Queen Bee" unquestioned, he told me I looked stunning. I told him that I agreed. Walking the wine walk we stop and get our picture taken by the local newspaper, sadly I am underage, but find this humorous.
I ran into my personal trainer with a good girlfriend of mine and I reassure him that it is only grape juice we have been drinking. Shortly after that your friend called me, asking what I was up to, prior to this your friend and I had gone on a casual date and were still feeling out the waters so to speak. I was not interested in going further, but he was nice enough to invite out and see what the friends thought of him.
About an hour later he arrived, with you. You were wearing jeans and a navy blue T shirt and blacks vans. Honestly I did not think much of it when you first got there. We were introduced and we bought a round. We sat at the bar with the group we were with and watched one of my friends dance around intoxicated stealing hats off on peoples heads. You had a wonderful sense of humor. I began to take small interest. Your friend was there and charming and witty as usual. But there was something about you. We talked about your past and common topics but I really enjoyed the small exchange.
Then we decided to go back to your house with your friend. I said goodbye to my friends and we walked to your car. We stopped and got tacos and started dancing in the parking lot. Once we got to the car you drove, your friend got in the drivers passenger's seat and I took the backseat. We were all quite for the ride home, but I would catch your eyes in the review mirror. You have light eyes for such dark hair. I knew exactly what you were saying. Don't worry. I understood. You're a good man. I must have known this.
Your house was typical. Not in a bad way though. The dogs came out, so sweet. Especially the black one. We chatted with everyone but I couldn't help but forget there were other people involved in the conversation. I can't remember how long we stayed, but I left after what felt like only seconds and a lifetime all at the same time. I drove with your friend to go home. And we left it at "nice to meet you."
That afternoon is burned into my cerebellum. The way the conversation flowed and the common history. Your friend brought me to meet someone like you, and on that note alone he will forever be a good acquaintance. You were a wonderful side street I had never seen,in a city I grew up in. It was refreshing getting lost for a minute. For that I thank you, thank you for the wonderful afternoon.

I saw you recently and you have a adorable girlfriend now, whose dimples and warm smile could brighten any ones day. I hope you two are wonderful. And have many days as good as the small encounter we shared.

Wednesday, August 18, 2010

Always Remember...

To much ego will kill your talent.

A Small Moment

July 22, 1999.
My father turned thirty years old. He was coming back from a business trip and my mother had planned a surprise party for him. My mother was twenty six and stunning. Like most women of the nineties she found herself a fan of the Jimmy Buffet/Tommy Bahama islander look. She had long blond hair and tan skin. She worn a thin white tunic with some blue jeans. She has never been the type to wear a lot of make up so her skin was lightened with a little powder and plumb colored blush. Light blue eyes brighten her face and she scurries around the house making sure everyone is in their place.
The car pulls up. We hear my Grandpa and Dad coming around the back. You hear my Grandpa bitching about the garage door being jammed and they have to go through the backyard door. They come around the corner and we all shout the classic "SURPRISE".
My father the strongest, bravest, gladiator of a man I know is moved to tears as his family and friends congratulate him on the accomplishment. Knowing more about my father's history it is a accomplishment he made it all the way to thirty. His eyes scan the yard for my mother who waits until he has said the "hi, how are yous" and "thanks for coming out's". Then he hugs her and looks at her lovingly knowing that she gets stressed when putting these things together. I am sitting on my aunt's lap and get up quickly to say hi. My hair naturally a golden blond and unlike my mothers my eye's are dark and stubborn. I greet my father with Happy Birthday. He picks me up and kisses me and looks around for my younger sisters. We all sit outside for the rest of the evening until it get's dark and people start to fade away.
I remember being a little girl afraid for evenings like these to end. Afraid that moments like those would never happen again. I'm still afraid of that as a adult woman. The only difference now is I am no longer naturally blond.

Monday, July 19, 2010

It's Time

"The only thing to fear is fear it's self."

So very true. Life is what we make of it. We are our own puppet masters, nothing can really get under our skin unless we let it. There does come a time when holding grudges and hate in ourselves because less satisfying and more of a burden. When you have forgotten why you hate in fact maybe it is time to let go. Offer up your olive branch and if not excepted with open arms leave it on the doorstep maybe the birds will pick at it. There comes a time to stand tall and for what you believe is right and then comes the time to sit down and listen to the others side of the same tale. I'm not saying that all is well in the world, but maybe today all can be well in your world. Things are never as they seem, the good or the bad." Winning and losing aren't all that different, its just the way the outside world views you."

So did I win or did I lose. I guess that is all in how you look at things. Honestly this morning around 10:00 a.m. I would have told you I failed. Today around 3:30 p.m. I could look at you and tell you I was proud of myself for being able to put away the stubborn part of myself and fall back on my new found peace.

Let's Have An Honesty Fight

My full name is Alisha Marie Perry. I'm twenty but will give a different age every time I am asked. I hate mushrooms. I have one best friend in this world. I fall for nerds. I like an up their on ass kind of guy, simply because they aren't and think they are. I hate the Twilight Saga, simply because true love seems to have teams now. I would disqualify them both. I love stand-up comedy. I love improv. I lie for no reason. I can not be left. When having a conversation I am most likely thinking about what an idiot you are. Though I pride myself on being sincere. I have a female crush on Victoria Beckham. I see the world a little differently. I have/have had a strange obsession with serial killers. For a loyal person I have a knack for keeping my options open. There is one man alive who loves me for everything I am, and I can not love him back. I still love the one who hurt me the most.I know when I'm being manipulative. And wont stop. I am a better person then I was before.

Tuesday, June 29, 2010

The Truth

I'm twenty years old and feel like I'm thirty two. I love blonde hair. I hate mushrooms. I feel like a bad friend fifty percent of the time. I have trouble with empathy. I am vain. I think that I am better then average. I think everyone is average. I never think about the guy that would have loved me forever. I miss the guy that broke my heart. I am jealous.

Ha. The Original-Let's Have an Honestly Fight.
Funny how we dress things up even for those we don't know.
This is the naked version.

Sunday, June 6, 2010

Girl's Night Out

Girls night out is typically supposed to be group of women who decide it's time to let loose and I think that phrase implies that they don't do this often, that's obviously open to interpretation, but none the less what I personally get from the statement. However being a woman and experiencing these nights out first hand, think they deserve a more appropriate title such as... "Girls Who Are Bored and Single Looking For Free Drinks and a Regrettable Morning After Night" or maybe "Girls Who Are Over Their Current Relationship and Just Want To See What Else There Is Out There But Can Blame It On The Alcohol Night". These are just a couple of the ideas that pop into my head as I sit on my porch on a Saturday night. I am a single woman in a party town. These nights are exactly what I have described. I'm guilty of it as are we all, but the question of the hour is am I different or are we all lying to ourselves? Are you really happy with the person your with? If you are why do we insist on nights titled "Fuck Off I Want To Get Drunk Without You Around Night". I can not understand this. I am thinking about close friends and people I don't care about a like. I watch from a distance relationships that work and the ones that are obviously situations that stem from habit. There is no shame in those either. We are creatures of our environment, mom and dad, step dad and mom, whatever our circumstance growing up was we have been taught to co-habitat. But the problem in our generation is we are also taught that we are independent beings. Clearly this causes some conflict within ourselves. How does one co habitat independently? And as women this is even a double standard. Go out there and have fun find yourself. But do it without acting like a whore. Simple, I think not. Not that acting like a hooker is not easy avoided, but in efforts to find what your comfortable vs stocked about is tough using mom's rules. Especially having to watch men next to you doing the same thing and not being put on blast for it. Hence forth women are forced to use " girls night" as some sort of temporary experimentation trail and when things get out of hand we run back to our normal lives of over analogizing every word that is said to us by men and masturbating in the morning when he has left for work. Maybe I am alone in this fight of trying to figure out the woman I supposed to be
or maybe just maybe I am amongst women who are struggling to. Using these nights as target practice so to speak.
More and more frequently I am hearing women described as liars. This could very well be true. But who are we all lying to?

Thursday, June 3, 2010

The Next Move

Stand Up last night was amazing. As a female comic this is not a common saying when describing your night on stage. It comes down to timing and tones. When to to be honest and how to go about saying it. I think people enjoyed last night because people can sense sincerity. We know when someone is lying to us, and we know when someone will let us lie to them. The thing now is what next? Do I continue on my path of part time comedy pursuit working a full time job that makes me want to swallow a knife. Or do I take a chance knowing the hard work that lies before me, knowing that someday the fruit of my labors will come. What is my next move? I am scared, but I'm not quite sure of what. Like taking the trash out at night hearing a strange noise that sends you bolting back into the house slamming the door and locking it behind. By the time you are in the house back against the door, your calling yourself a pussy under your breathe.

Tuesday, April 13, 2010

Let's Blog It Out

Let's start by talking about proper conversation etiquette. For instance if you happen to be chatting with someone and you say a name to them, any name a mutual friend, love interest etc. and they immediately repeat the name after you have just said it, I am going to pretty much grantee that 9 times out of 10 there will be a negative connotation to come after that name momentarily. Which if you don't already know this, let me tell you now, feelings of disappointment and foolishness are to come as well. This sucks for the convo partner that was just getting ready to tell you that a guy/gal that she/he had a couple drinks with last night after a previously super awkward hangout, had a surprisingly come to a break through about their seemingly potential relationship. So question of the hour, should you be "that guy" and repeat the name right after someone has said it to make sure that thy know at once what a douche they are dealing with? Or should you mind new conversational etiquette and not only give someone the benefit of the doubt, but also mind your own damn business. Because you know that you really don't give a shit about the name you just repeated, but you do feel important for having something derogatory about this person.
With that being said, my favorite quote of the day or maybe I should say my favorite para phase of the day..."Oh that guy....two words, Man Whore. Total waste of time. Think he has an STD. Been with at least 10 of my friends. And he is in love with this girl that is perfect. But good luck! I gotta go back in, but have a good day I'll see you in there."
This just happens to support my theory that life is about two things, timing and tones.

Saturday, April 10, 2010

Aggressivly Mediocre

Today I watched a movie that may have restored my faith in humanity. This wasn't even close to an epic film either. It was a film about a pretty basic guy who is basically awesome. It was comparable to watching a movie about your best friend, by the end of it your cheering for him. You may being questioning your moral integrity, none the less you are still on his team. The movie was Extract and the reason it might have restored my faith in humanity because it has been one of the most honest movies I have seen in a long time. The plot and freak situations are a little far fetched, however the relatabilty factor is at all time high. This honesty train that this movie has you riding takes you for a tour that leaves you thinking after, am I wrong for wanting my boyfriend to cheat on me, only so I can cheat on him guilt-free with working-class looking fellows?
Am I not alone in this? Maybe even if I had a completely dysfunctional relationship with someone also took part in infidelity it could possibly work, only if he/she is totally awesome. More so the point of this entry is to allow people to accept that things don't always go according to plan and sometimes even good people can make shitty mistakes. This movie was like a breathe of fresh air in L.A. not pure but certainly fresh.

Tuesday, April 6, 2010

Boot Camp for the Mind

Started with a wonderful morning. Nothing says potential relationship like " Alright go ahead and let me take you body fat measurement and the hop up on the scale." As the number on the scale rose, I could feel the chances with the gorgeous personal trainer descending more and more rapidly. Say that I was in amazing shape, still nothing says confidence like a Beach Body Boot Camp right? False. Boot camp as it turns out is just letting the rest of the world become aware of the fact that you need to be better. Better at everything, physically and socially. So hence forth boot camp for the mind is when you have to decide to not only become better physically but also mentally. You must set your mind forth on the journey of being in "good-shape", so to speak. You need to be able to "trim the fat" and "tone muscle". For example, stop sleeping with you ex-boyfriend who cheated on you. Its like waking up in the middle of the night and eating half the chocolate your roommate made for her Mom's birthday. Stop being that asshole. Now obviously the number on the scale has nothing to do with the personal trainer liking you, who knows maybe he likes them a little on the husky side. But it does have to with you liking you, and this is where it turns out the mind boot camp must come before body. Everyone has been through the "misery diet" where you loose all those extra lbs, that you carried around for whatever reason that held them to you. But you loose them in the most hateful way that it feels like the first time you smile since you have been on the diet you instantly gain 5 pounds back. The idea of getting into peak physical shape has turned into the mind opening experince of figuring out why we give a shit in the first place. Its for others, period. "Nothing will get a women into better shape the divorce," this a quote from my father. I have found more truth in this then science. We have a motive, we all have a plan. The human mind is still more fascinating the actions that come from the fore thought. So for the next eight weeks I hope for my own sake that I can get "shredded" and see clear the motives that drive me. For my fellow boot campees the motives seem all to clear.

Wednesday, March 24, 2010

I Miss You, Today.

It's been easy. Almost fun letting go of us. But not today. Today I miss you. Everything. Good and bad. The days have been good, busy, productive days. I have been working and going to school. I have seen friends that I haven't seen in years and doors have been opening up for me that I could have never imagined. But today I miss you and none of that matters. I have shown no weakness, no mourning to what was us. I have kept our secret. I have pushed forward, but I will look back some times to make the anguish last. Pain is all I have to remember you by. That makes me sad all day. I can still smell you sometimes if I close my eyes. I still remember the way your laugh sounds and the way your body felt next to mine. I miss you. And no one will ever know. Truthfully I haven't even cried. Not once. I try to think back if at some point if you were honest, if ever there was anything between us. But whats the point. Its helps that it was a secret, it really does. I might never have stopped loving you if the world knew. This way is best, just the way I like it. Alone. I have not felt this comfortable since the day before I met you. But today I miss you. I miss every ounce of your lying, deceitful body. You never know what a relationship meant to you until it has ended. However I am still waiting to see how I feel, permanently. I cant remember if we argued on where to eat, but it was always an interesting time. None the less, I miss you lover, today.

Monday, March 1, 2010

The Beginning

The beginning. Strange idea that is all has a beginning. Even the end has a beginning.
Remember when you were with the person your with right now and it was the beginning of the two of you. Every conversation was interesting and sex was like it was lite on fire. Then there came the beginning of the end. The phone calls stopped as frequently, the time together became less valued. Physical attraction takes a dive. The beginning. I miss the beginning of everything.
Now I am on a new beginning and I feel that maybe the world is too. I feel it changing all around me. I am trying to embrace it. I find this difficult. I am an angry person and this allows me to complete tasks that the other average content person could not. I wonder if this is a advantage or an actual weakness. I have a friend who is a pastor who tells me it is ok to be weak, it will take me about 10 years to see this as fact. The thought makes my stomach churn. It makes me want to get sick. The thought of being vulnerable literally makes me physically ill and my brain refuses its messages. Is the holy man right? I cant be sure. But as these sutures hold together my wounds and slowly develop into scars. I wonder what lessons I will take with me to my new beginning.

Friday, February 26, 2010

Take your life, and make less mistakes

Today I did one the of the hardest things to do that is humanly possible. I did the right thing. For the first time today since I can remember the beginning of my recently ended relationshit, I did the right thing for myself. I felt ecstasy, not the shitty club drug, not being drunk with a bunch of girls telling me I would get over him so soon, not sky diving. But driving home from a play. A small local play that was not very good, sitting in the company of a good friend, eating an awful awful burger and coming home to my baby bulldog, whom I proceeded to smother with kisses.
Like I said, I felt ecstasy. The feeling was so aberrant to me that at first I was not sure if I was comfortable in this state. I have found a reliable friend in suffering and grown very accustomed to its company. That the idea of contentment was almost unwelcome.
I believe that victory favors those who pay in pain. But now, more then ever before I KNOW it dose not have to stop there. There is experience gained in time wasted and the love that was put forth in vain can be restored. If not by the experience itself then by something as simple as the love from your dog. Today I became versed in the idea behind doing the right thing. "Don't be a short term thinker" my mother says to me daily. To me this illustrates the point of doing right by yourself and others. Funny perspective about doing the right thing is that it always feels like the most deprecating choice you could have made at the time, however with in minutes, days and sometimes even years it becomes the most sure thing sculpting you into the person you pride yourself on being. I realized in my particular situation I had the means to mold myself in to the person I want to live with for the rest of my life.
After I made to decision to do right and began to feel this overwhelming scene of elation. The first person to come to my mind is my father. I think back to being a kid, and remembering him watching me run track and do gymnastics. I would look up from the gym floor and see him in the booth above us. His eyes would watch me as I would go to accomplish routine or some other sort of conditioning deed. When I completed my goal successfully and could see the look on his face of pride and approval, I felt the feeling I felt today. I stopped doing gymnastics when I was twelve. Its been awhile since I have felt like I have done the right thing. Pain is so real sometimes that it feels good for that temporary fix. It makes the weak person inside feel strong again. I have been taught today that I have no more tolerance for the weaker version of myself. I am an athlete. Whatever it takes.