When life gives you lemons you…make a post about nothing. So much going on. So much time to write, yet so little to say. Here are the highlights of my current thoughts, insights, and questions for September 23rd 2015.
Why am I considered a Millennial? I think we need to break millennials up into two groups; the one’s who use the words Fleek and Bae ironically and the ones who consider these words to be an integral part of the English language.
Why isn’t Donald Trump using Rae Sremmurd’s “Up like Trump” as his campaign song?
#Sremmlife <—okay maybe I am a Millennial.
There are two types of people in this world, those who don’t like quinoa and those who really f*cking hate it. I actually happen to like it.
I will never understand people who like to play devil’s advocate. I saw that movie, Keanu Reeves’ life was ruined!
Do people really like wine? Or do they just pretend to like it because it’s an adult tradition. Like I can understand wine coolers, those things taste like alcoholic Capri Suns.
Notes in my iphone: Foot Porn. Point of reference for future research.
Show Pitch: It’s like Chopped on the Food Network but all the dishes have weed in them.
Fun Fact: The Back to the Future Trilogy comes on almost everyday on Syfy and/or AMC. You’re welcome.
I hate waiting. Like if there was a line to get to heaven I’d be like, Eff this I’ll come back later. But sometimes life is all about waiting. Waiting for your clothes to dry, your Uber to come, or your cell phone to charge (I’ve been known to snatch mine off the charger at 20%, like yup good enough). Patience is a virtue. I only pretend to know what that means.
I’m currently waiting to hear back from yet another position I applied to here. The interview went well. My chances are good. And I’m not over thinking anything. I’m just tired of waiting. Tired of having my life up in the air for ONE decision to be made. I want to make travel plans, decide if I’m going to move or continue to pin DIY home improvement pins for my apt, and to just know where the f*ck I’ll be in 6 months.
As per usual I have no definite end date for this job and no set begin date for the next. I’m in limbo land and the bar is getting too low to shimmy under. I could be looking at this all wrong, another job rejection could force me to reevaluate my career path. Not like I need to quit. But maybe I’m not supposed to get the 9-6 gig even it is closely related to what I want to do. Maybe I need to be aiming higher and riskier. The creative life is rough but I have to remember; I didn’t choose the creative life, the creative life chose me. I just want some stability, some kind of guarantee. Sigh, I guess I’ll just keep writing these posts in the meantime. I mean, I don’t have anything else to do while I wait…
So I do this thing called Morning Pages. It’s a method used in the book “The Artist’s Way” by Julia Cameron, to unblock creative people. It’s a really awesome book and there are weekly exercises to help you unblock your creativity. Anyway, Morning Pages are a stream of consciousness writing you do every morning to get all your thoughts and ideas out. Julia also instructs us to not go back and read your Morning Pages. I’m in a creative slump so I’ve been reading my Morning Pages for inspiration. I laughed, I cried, I called a friend to do both with me. Even though this is totally against the rules, I want to share a sample of one of my entries. And who cares if I break the rules, no one reads this blog anyway lol.
Where is the man of my dreams already?! Like what is my future husband doing right now? Probably sleep or cuddling with his current girlfriend or wife. Since I don’t know, I think I’ll make up what he’s doing right now. Today he is in some exotic city. Paris. Wait no, Paris sounds so basic. So he is in some random city in France. He woke up and opened his laptop because he sleeps next to it like me. He checked his email and wrote a few. I don’t know what he does but he makes a good living doing it. Maybe he’s an art dealer. Chicks dig art dealers. I saw “Unfaithful”. He’s not wearing a shirt and he’s in shape, like cut. But not from excessive workouts he’s just naturally toned. For some reason I picture him wearing white linen pants, no shirt, and barefoot (he just woke up duh!). There’s a lot of white actually; white sheets, white walls, etc. Am I picturing him waking up in heaven? I can’t tell his ethnicity. I don’t want to know either.
What does he do next? I would hope something very French like read the newspaper while drinking an espresso. I’m describing Leonardo DiCaprio in like all of his movies, aren’t I? Well fuck, he’s cool. I’m still thinking about Don Jon I finally finished it last night. It’s like I got what Joseph Gordon-Levitt was trying to say but I don’t agree with how he said it. Mental note: maybe he made a movie about the differences between love & porn because his mom is some super feminist i.e. why his name is hyphenated. I make shit up when I don’t feel like googling it. The movie basically says that making love is better than sex because you can “lose yourself in someone”. But the movie shows us that just means looking someone in the eye while having sex. Sappy. I don’t dislike it but I don’t like it either. I’m sleepy. I’m trying to fight the urge to go back to sleep and be productive. Well napping can be productive if you’re tired right?
That’s just a sample but you get the gist of it. I encourage everyone to start Morning Pages. You’ll be amazed at what you end up finding out about yourself. As for me, I’m still waiting on my white linen dream man…
I watch a lot of TV and movies (duh), so naturally, I’ve noticed some reoccurring themes like:
Choreographed dancing in teen movies
The late 90s and early 00s were notorious for choreographed dance scenes in teen movies. It was always at the end, at the big dance, and everyone always magically knew all the moves. But where are they now? I loved Superbad but you know what would have made it even better? A flash mob scene at the end with the cast dancing to “Fergalicious”.
Cops and Coke
How do cops on TV know they are tasting real cocaine when they seize evidence and sample it? Are we to assume all cops are ex coke heads? Does this happen in real life when cops find bricks of coke in Mexican cartel drug tunnels? Like is there some coke tasting class cops take so they know when they are dealing with that real Hannah Montana?
Where’s their debit/CC card?
Does everyone carry cash on TV shows? Whenever there’s a heated argument between a couple, one of them always throws down their money in a heated rage for the meal that; 1) they haven’t received or 2) haven’t finished. I guess having to wait to sign the bill would take away the dramatic effect.