I have a beautiful video that relates the circular passage of life. Please watch this story of reincarnation told through stop motion face paint
I can feel it. It’s coming over me little by little. It’s the amount of space being occupied in my mind, slowly expanding evermore. What’s worse is that I can see it happening: once again a man has come into my life, and I have almost consciously made the decision to let him take over my thoughts, distract me from conversations and class lectures, and create fantastical outcomes of every scenario. You know it’s bad when I’ve decided that other men just aren’t as attractive, and I simply cannot help the fact that I”m immensely attracted to him; I want him. Just him.
But it’s always the same story: fall for him–fall hard–only to discover that he “doesn’t want a relationship right now/likes you as a friend,” lose self-esteem, make terrible mistakes, and continue in a downward spiral until another boy appears who will show interest and portray the kind of love you want to experience, only to begin the cycle again. Love is hard.
Unfortunately, I know that I’m mostly to blame. While I desire to be loved with an unmatched passion, it is immensely difficult for me to show that reciprocating love pent up within me. How to let him know your true feelings? For me, committing to someone is a big step. Once it’s done, the effort I put in is enormous. The problem is getting there.
At the moment, I can feel myself falling for another guy, and this time, I really want this to work. It’s bad enough that he’s constantly on my mind, or that his name on an unopened text message has the capacity to elate me for minutes without even having read it yet.
Having reread what I’ve written so far in this post, I’m almost embarrassed by the trueness of it all, and how much of an effect this man has on my life.
All in all, though, I’d rather live a life full of passionate emotions and experience love and loss as opposed to never loving at all.
So it’s officially that time of the term again where everyday I just want to ignore the world and crawl into my bed and watch sappy romance movies and drink hot chocolate. Each time someone asks “oh how are you doing?–you look really tired,” I have to suppress the urges to cry and punch them in the face. I want to pretend that this next week of school isn’t worth about 90-100% of each of my class’ final grades.
Almost every class I spend a solid 15 minutes deciding whether I want to go or stay home and sleep for more than the four hours that I managed to squeeze in the night before. My diet has turned to shit, and my social life is nearly non-existent; I find it the most rewarding and amazingly social thing to sit and have coffee with someone for 20 minutes. I just have to keep telling myself that winter break will be the most amazing break that I’ve yet experienced, and that I only have to get by the next two weeks with the torture of my final presentations and papers to reach that goal.
I’m only comforted by the thought that the pain I suffer now will soon be gone, I will be able to sleep as much as I desire, my friends who I’ve neglected all term due to business of schedule will see me again, those books that have been piling up on my bedside table begging to be read will be, and I can finally get into the holiday spirit with delicious foods and cheer.
BUT what am I doing here, typing this blog instead of my economics research paper on Quesnay’s theory of value as represented in the Tableau Economique? At least I have this grey and rainy day, Mozart’s requiem in D minor, and this cup of tea to relax and yet inspire me to continue with this overwhelmingly stressful workload for the next two weeks.
Here’s a blog post I wrote for my other blog, the PSU Chronicles!
If you’re like me, you aren’t old enough to experience the night life of Portland. It seems that everything after-hours requires an ID. So what’s there to do when you’re itching to get out, but you can’t get in to 21+ places? I prefer the following places which have excellent food and foster friendly and relaxing environments.
- Le Bistro Montage: (301 SE Morrison) located underneath the Morrison Bridge on the east side. Once you enter, it’s hard not to enjoy yourself in the dimly lit room with music blasting and shared community tables. And trust me, if you’re craving mac-n-cheese, this is the place to go. Everything they serve is delicious, and they always give away the most creative to-go packages.
- The Roxy: (1121 SW Stark) This 24hr joint has basically everything that you’d crave at 2 or 3am, minus alcohol and ice cream. It’s 15 minutes from campus, and…
View original post 238 more words
I wish that I’d read this article in one of those teen mags I read as an adolescent. I couldn’t agree more
What if all women were bigger and stronger than you?
And thought they were smarter?
What if women were the ones who started wars?
What if too many of your friends had been raped by women wielding giant dildos and no K-Y Jelly?
What if the state trooper who pulled you over on the New Jersey Turnpike was a woman and carried a gun?
What if the ability to menstruate was the prerequisite for most high-paying jobs?
What if your attractiveness to women depended on the size of your penis?
What if every time women saw you they’d hoot and make jerking motions with their hands?
What if women were always making jokes about how ugly penises are and how bad sperm tastes?
What if you had to explain what’s wrong with your car to big sweaty women with greasy hands who stared at your crotch in a garage where you are surrounded by posters of naked men with hard-ons?
What if men’s magazines featured cover photos of 14-year-old boys with socks tucked into the front of their jeans and articles like: “How to tell if your wife is unfaithful” or “What your doctor won’t tell you about your prostate” or “The truth about impotence”?
What if the doctor who examined your prostate was a woman and called you “Honey”?
What if you had to inhale your boss’ stale cigar breath as she insisted that sleeping with her was part of the job?
What if you couldn’t get away because the company dress code required you wear shoes designed to keep you from running?
And what if after all that women still wanted you to love them?
— “For the Men Who Still Don’t Get It,” Carol Diehl
wow, this is so relevant. I can imagine that many of the women who I know can relate to this.
Before the madness of TangoFest hits, here’s a little somethin-somethin :)
Soooo… I’ll admit that I started strong with this blog, and then suddenly I kind-of fell off the radar and became consumed with my summer life.
Briefly, I had a couple of interviews, and I now work for a 50’s restaurant as a waitress, a blogger for one of my school’s webpages, and finally a news reporter for the PSU Vanguard. So I was able to find employment! The restaurant still hasn’t opened yet, and I don’t start the other two writing jobs until after school starts, so in the meantime I’m still stuck here not making any money…
Also, about a week and a half ago, one of my brothers left for college in North Dakota. I have to admit, it’s been lonely since my whole family left to help him move in a visit other relatives. I won’t be seeing him until December. It’s weird to think that he’s going to be gone for so long, when I’m so used to seeing him almost everyday. While they left for the midwest, I stayed here in Portland to watch my puppy who just had knee surgery and to finish my calculus class.
BUT! Now that I’ve been able to let that out…
I’ve been noticing a pattern recently: shorter-than-me, stranger-than-I-appreciate, and just not-my-type guys have been asking me out recently. All I can say is: if you have bigger boobs than me, and your height only reaches up to mine, then how am I supposed to find you attractive? Within the past month I’ve had to find my big-girl pants and just set it straight for them. There is something about men who are more then 2 inches shorter than me that creates an instant turn-off. Also, when they try to get me to get with them, they use lines like “hey why don’t you bake some cupcakes and come over and drink wine with me and give me a massage,” my interest starts dwindling REAL fast. Why on Earth would I want to caress your man boobs?! Eew. Again, instant turn off. The other best line I’ve heard was “oh, yeah I’m still kind of obsessed with this other girl, and it’s complicated, but maybe you want to grab dinner with me tomorrow?” Haha..no. Finally, if you are 27, and you can’t even hold a minimum wage-paying job for more than a month without getting fired, and your dream in life is to become a starving artist, please move on.
I think that I’m too nice. It’s hard for me to say no, because I like please people and to see them happy. But often times I say yes with the intention of saying no later, just so that I don’t have to hurt their manpride infront of someone, or so that I can come up with a more graceful and less demeaning way of saying “listen, I’m really NOT interested in you at all.”
How can I give off the vibe that I want a tall man, who is intelligent yet has an amusing (yet not too) juvenile sense of humor, and who is interested in going on adventures with me? If I have bigger hands than you, out weigh you by 50 pounds, and make you look like my son when I wear heels, then you are not my type. But yet, these seem to be the men that I attract…
A close friend of mine told me this last weekend that I need to “embrace my destiny” of being with a short man…but not if I can help it ;)
**not trying to sound snobby here. Of course everyone has personal tastes and preferences. And this is not to say that I immediately dismiss whomever approaches me who happens to be shorter, but it does kind of count as negative points towards them. It’s like this: if you’re short, I’ll still date you if you have a sparkling personality and make me laugh :)**