Tag Archives: thoughts

charisma

Am I the only one in the habit of attributing personalities to inanimate objects?

Sometimes I will see a plant, bicycle, or a jar and I will just get this overwhelming sense that they know a secret, or a joke and they are trying to share it with me.

Really, everything has a personality on some level. If you treat your belongings well, an observer can sense that. If you drink  juice out of your glasses with love and good thoughts, those glasses gleam a bit brighter; if you adore your car and caress it with polish, it will drive a bit smoother. There is such a focus on treating other people with kindness and respect, which is absolutely necessary as well, but it has occured to me that objects deserve the same respect in a way.

Enjoy your bed, nestle in it with a book and revel it its company. It is your sleeping companion, it knows all your uncensored behavior but refrains from judgement and faithfully holds you as you slumber each evening.

Once you open up this possibility of objects being company, you will realize that you are never truly alone (you can decide if this creeps you out or not). When you are lonely, hug your pillow, or lean against your wall.

While reading Hemingway’s short story, Hills like White Elephants, I really admired the girl’s natural inclination to regard everything as an independent entity with thoughts, feelings, and personality. She looked upon a beaded curtain as though it was saying something to her, and the hills as though they were innocently existing elephants–her environment spoke to her more than her human companion.

As a person requiring immense amounts of personal space at frequent intervals, yet perpetually suffering from an undefinable sort of loneliness, this concept is simultaneously intriguing and comforting to me.

I now look upon my house full of characters, instead of clutter. ;)

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enjoy

I remain stagnantly one-hundred percent supportive of any excuse to wear a dress, eat guacamole, or create a playlist.

Such an occasion has arisen this week in the form of walking to school. I throughly enjoy walking, even in heels, and the trek from my new place to school happens to be the perfect length.

Short enough to avoid seeming daunting, but long enough to facilitate a certain form of meditation.

However, as much as I enjoy the soothing sounds of screeching brakes and the perpetual hum of construction in the university area I much prefer to listen to some jazz on my commute. Hence, the creation of a playlist.

 

mmmmm

edible

Philosophy of Soup

I have this theory and before you ask, yes it does involve soup. of course.

It goes a little something like this..

When your world becomes turbulent, insisting on violently tossing you about  and you can’t quite seem to grasp any shred of normalcy there is only one remedy to set your mind straight.

Step one: Breathe. Take one of those deep, life changing breaths that center you and invigorate you more than any cup of coffee could possibly accomplish.

Step two: Put on your apron, slippers, put on some jazz, and gather your gaggle of vegetables.

Step three: Chop your little heart out–dice your frustrations out on the cutting board. As the carrots, potatoes, zucchinis fall away into little fragments under your knife and your multicolored army swells across your counter begin to toss them into a large, bubbling pot. Your troubles will evaporate with the sensational smell of your comforting creation.

Step four: Have a glass of wine..or two..while you patiently await the soup to form.

Step five: Eagerly ladle a bowl far to large for common sense, sit down, close your eyes, and enjoy.

There is something about that first steaming bowl of jumbled goodness created by you that is comforting and satisfying in a way that escapes definition. People ask why I talk about soup in a mildly obsessive manner, it is rather bizarre I realize, but it really comes down to this indescribable correlation associated with safety and love that is perpetually nestled in my brain .

Though I have paralled the soup experience with..other things..my affinity for this mind-mending method stems from something much deeper. There is never a time when soup will not fix a bad day.

So. On the darkest days when your head is hopelessly tangled in knots that you cannot even fathom beginning to unravel, give it a try. This simple act is essentially a reminder to slow down, meditiate upon the simple beauty of the world.

Plus, you get to eat at the end–and honestly what is better than that?

towel

There are so many beautiful people in the world. It truly never ceases to amaze me.

These past few months I have been overwhelmed by the amount of truly remarkable human beings that I have been surrounded by. I would have been approaching my return date from Sweden in these next couple of weeks and it has been bittersweet to think of all that I have missed out on over there.

I have always been hyper-aware of the opportunity cost of everything in life. It is a perpetual dialogue that runs rampant within my brain–berating whatever choice I ultimately decide on and wonder what it would have been like if I had taken the other option.

If I order this dish, will it satisfy my hunger better than the other?

If I am on this radio station, what if my favorite song is being played on another one?

If I leave Sweden, what will I miss? If I stay, what will I miss at home?

It is an unhealthy game that is impossible to win. At some point, it is just not realistic or beneficial to weigh and analyze every option. Anyone who has been shopping with me can attest to the fact that I take FOREVER–with anything from museli to a pen.

The truth is, no matter what choice is made in the end you have to accept that it was made and embrace whatever the result may be. It is scary to face reality straight in the face like that but it is necessary.

We have too many options available to us and it is just horrifically overwhelming. Limits are needed. Or at least acceptance of the selected recourse is.

good 2am drive home song ;)

jingle

A fair amount of things make me uncomfortable.

It comes with the territory of being a socially awkward human being I suppose. I highly dislike talking on the phone, being in the vicinity of a needle, being in pictures, and eating mayonnaise.All of which is relatively normal, in my opinion, but I think what makes me most uncomfortable is taking complements and or gifts.

I’m not sure why, but when someone says something nice about me or does something nice for me I just feel really uncomfortable. It’s not that I don’t appreciate the giver’s generosity, but for some reason I just don’t feel like I deserve it and I just feel guilty that someone would do something for me.

Maybe this is why I don’t like Christmas as much as other holidays.

“WHAT?!” you might be thinking in a concerned tone right about now, “How could someone NOT like CHRISTMAS?!”

all horrors aside, I really do have some logical reasoning behind my semi-grudge against Christmas.

‘Tis the season to be overrated.

1) It excuses supreme tackiness. I mean, honestly reindeer horns on your car.

Seriously? Excuse me while I puke a little.

2) People begin to equate their affection for one another with material items. At Thanksgiving people only give each other company and thanks–over food–what more do you need?

3) Petty arguments involving religion are annoying and more predominant around the holidays. Kind of ironic to say the least, but even that doesn’t make it acceptable.

The funny thing to me is that the people who tend to take the ‘religious’ stance on the issue seem to think that participating in the capitalist enterprise that is America, spoiling their kids with goodies from Toys R US and cartoons, somehow celebrates Jesus’ birth? It is just ludicrous to me.

CLick this for more on that. Can’t we just all get along?

4) My neighbors put up THE most annoyingly garish display of lights that shines directly into my window and makes it seem like daylight at three in the morning.

I like lights and all, but is a ten foot star hanging off your balcony really necessary? Obviously they don’t mind because they don’t have to look at it. Or the field of bushes covered in lights either.

5) I just really hate Christmas music. Not all of it, but the majority definately and you cannot escape it anywhere you go. It’s on in coffee shops, the mall, the radio, your house, it’s like a musical stalker.

If I hear jingle bells one more time, I will punch an elf.

6) Tsk, Tsk Target. You are an enabler. Now, you can pay 349.99 for a lovely seven and a half foot spiky grape to represent the holiday!

Not hip enough for you? No worries, Target has got you covered.

Just when I thought it couldn’t get any weirder, this happened:

8) I do enjoy Christmas day, and ultimately I do enjoy everything that goes along with it but it just seems a little silly for adults without children to partake in it. We all spend so much money buying each other gifts…wouldn’t it make more sense to not do that, take that money, and buy whatever we want for ourselves and then spend the day with family and friends?

 

I rest my case.

Besides, we all know the day after is the best anyways ;)

invasive

There comes a time when a mind needs a good, old fashioned untangling. When it has been twisted and warped into an unrecognizable jumble it becomes the owner’s responsibility to take the time to unravel the disorder.

A four hour car ride can be an ideal time for such an activity, and I had two this holiday weekend so I took advantage of that.

I have this tendency to consider myself different than the rest of the population. I think we all do this to an extent but this weekend I had several epiphanies regarding life. WHOA I know, that is quite a statement. It actually sounds pompous to me but I can’t really think of a better way to put it–Let me rewind a little bit.

Usually for Thanksgiving my family treks to Texas but this year we kicked it in Pagosa (Colorado) where we have a house. We stuffed ourselves silly, as is protocol, and the next day burned some stuffing off at Wolf Creek.

It was our first day of this ski season–really late I know but it’s been a busy year!– so we took it easy.

I donned some attractive gear

MMMM lumpy hahah can you tell where my tucked in shirts cut off? ;) It was an absolutely PERFECT day though

The rest of the weekend was equally enjoyable: no computer, lots of good food, soaking in the hot springs…you get the picture.

The funny thing about relaxing to that extent is that you are stuck with your own thoughts. As I have likely mentioned before, I try to not think too much generally. I am a chronic over-analyzer and that is a recipe for disaster so I try to keep myself busy at all times. That was probably the biggest problem with Sweden–I had too much free time to think about things that are not healthy to think about so deeply.

My mom and I left on Saturday afternoon so I could make it back for Whitley, Emily and Katelyn’s birthday and see people that came home for the holidays before they left.

So we said so long to our little house (and cleared our sinuses hahah)

changed into hideous–yet comfortable–attire. This is becoming a habit I fear.

packed the essential snacks

and we were off! I popped in the handy ipod to a recently created playlist.

 

WARNING–it gets ridiculously personal here so feel free to skip through

This is where we get back to what I was talking about earlier in the post. I try not to be too personal on this thing because I am, believe it or not, a freakishly private person. I don’t like complaining or crying in front of people, not even my best friend sometimes. I kind of consider being sad a weakness, I guess it comes from my parents in a weird way–not that they did it intentionally but they always taught me that you just deal with whatever life throws at you.

You literally get one day to feel sorry for yourself and then you are back to your life. in some circumstances this is extremely helpful, but in my current one..not so much.

Basically, this mindset led me to I try to head off anything I would feel about breaking up with someone, okay any of you who know me know who it is haha but ill let them remain nameless anyways. I cut my emotions off completely, because that is the practical thing to do, and I left to DC..and then Sweden.

Turns out, running away doesn’t make it go away. Just because you refuse to acknowledge things doesn’t mean they didn’t happen. And that really, really sucks.

Really.

One good thing about being sad though is it provides an excuse to create a playlist of cheesy hate/love songs which makes you feel like someone understands exactly what you are going through. And some songs really hit the nail on the head though I am ashamed that I even have them on my itunes..(Kiss and Tell by Kesha anyone? hahaha and Take a Bow Rhianna? i know they are stupid, but they are seriously helpful)

So when I put my ipod  on shuffle to jam I came across some of these songs and I realized two things.

First- They don’t call it heartbreak because it is fun.

Second- I blame myself for too much, and I’m done with it.

I don’t know how it happened, but everyone has been telling me for months that I haven’t done anything wrong but I continued to blame myself for everything. I realize now that I am consistently WAY too hard on myself and in some situations there is a right and a wrong and that I should not automatically put myself in the wrong just because it is easier to deal with that way.

If it is my fault then I have the power to make it go away.

When I look at my situation objectively, it is so clear. If one of my friends was basically cheated on and lied to over a long period of time, if one of my friends sat around all last year waiting for their boy to call only to be told it was an ‘obligation’ to talk to them, if one of my friends went out of their way to do nice things for their boyfriends without EVER getting a thank you much less a reciprocation, if one of my friends said things that hurt were forgiven and studpideven when they weren’t just to avoid fights, I would tell them that they deserved better.

I would say that anyone who is lied deserves to be mad, even if perpetrator is ‘sorry’. Sometimes being mad involves not wanting to see the liar, sometimes being mad involves dating other people, and neither of those things are things to be sorry about.

So I’m not. I have done nothing wrong. And I am done apologizing for being mad.

Alright. I’m done I swear hahah I just had to get some things sorted out in my brain and writing is the easiest way to do so.

I have admitted that I am not as strong as I thought but I am working on it. At least I have my family and friends to help me through it. I really needed to come home and I am unbelieveably grateful to have everyone that I do.

And best of all I can have kallie-mom date nights in watching Notting Hill and eating Il Vicino.

strum

“I know”

These are words that are a part of my everyday vocabulary. Alright? I admit it!

I am a chronic know-it-all.

The fact that I am aware of it does not override the fact that it is a defining factor of my existence–it is merely a step in the direction of (hopefully) overcoming it.

I have been afflicted with this terrible quality for who knows how long, but everyone who knows me has likely experienced my snooty attitude at some point. The problem is I generally realize that I am doing it only after a snippy response has escaped my lips.

I would like to work on this because despite popular my own belief, I am actually only an 18 year-old college sophomore that, in fact, does not have all the universe’s answers to life’s questions.

For some reason having someone instruct me or correct me on ANY topic under the sun, even if they clearly know more than me, feels like a shot to the gut. This is not conducive to learning and making progress towards potentially knowing everything because peoples’ advice is, in reality, very helpful!

Another aspect of my life that this know-it-all attitude contaminates is learning new skills. I get frustrated cooking, playing tennis, writing, etc. I tend to go through phases where I will be totally enraptured by some activity but once the learning curve hits I just give up and move onto the next thing.

Guitar is one of these things. I fell in love with it, I dedicated myself to playing for two months, followed by sporadic strumming for two more months before summer hit and all my drive (and time) to practice went out the window.

I finally picked it up again last night, and before I knew it I had re-learned three songs and two hours had passed–funny how that happens, eh?

Anyways, my goal is to play for fifteen mintues at least, 5 days a week and not be so hard on myself when I don’t automatically sound like Jimi Hendrix.

Wish me luck!