- So of course my stubborn ass has had dairy even though I said I wouldn’t. I’ve learned that it fucks with my skin and hair. Damn hormones.
- I have definitely been on instagram to promote my current show and keep track of social media for the company I work for.
- We have been out to eat a few times
- and because of how busy this week has been and the quality of my skin these days, makeup hasn’t been a real priority so that’s good news
I want to get a haircut. I don’t know what I’m going to do. But I’m kind of sick of my long hair. Maybe this is a test in patience. It hasn’t been really really long in years..
Well, I tell myself not to have any cheese and then of course almost every day this week I had some thing with cheese in it. The cheese tortellini fucked me up the most. I’m for sure in denial about my lactose in tolerance.
Last Saturday, we definitely went out for Korean BBQ so that’s also been successful.
I haven’t checked instagram or twitter once. Facebook maybe once or twice.. to promote a show!
I had an audition on Monday. For a print ad. Which never happens for me. So that was exciting. Other than that..
I think I’ve been pretty successful. It’s almost as if my brain and body was like, “oh you mean like no ____ at all?! Ok every day!!” especially about cheese. I have noticed that I am so bloated. Have FINALLY stopped bleeding and am back on track with my period. I guess the dairy helped? or not/ Idk.
I’m giving up and letting go of the following pleasures for LENT:
- Going out to eat. I’ve done this once before when I was living in Santa Maria. I think I was pretty successful! We’ll see how it goes this year.
- Wearing makeup. I’ve never done this. But more and more I realize how much I rely on makeup to make me feel a certain way. With my discovery of contouring and filling in my eyebrows I don’t think I really ever leave the house without it. This one will be hard.. but there’s one thing I know that will improve. My ability to show up earlier to things.
- Dairy & red meat. I already try to cut back on my dairy intake, mostly cheese. And I don’t really eat red meat any way..But absolutely no dairy for the next 45 days will be hard. Especially around my period.
- Junk Food. This is kind of in the same vain as dairy. I’m not as bad as I used to be. But I do catch myself walking in to corner stores for snacks more often than not. It’s tough when you’re always on the go.
- Social media: instagram, twitter, facebook. yeah. ok. this one is not easy. I definitely woke up and wanted to tweet something. I stayed on my phone for a little too long this morning, maybe I’ll use that time to go back to my gratitude journal.
I’m not aiming for perfection but there is something about taking out the things I know that I indulge in for a time and noticing the differences- Especially going out to eat and spending too much time on my face. I’m excited to see what happens. Lol.
See you in April!
I don’t know why I keep thinking that this day is more important than my actual birthday which is tomorrow. And I don’t know why I have such a weird relationship to the number 27. 27 is the only 2-digit number in which the sum of digits is equal to the sum of prime factors. According to Google. And that’s cool but what significance does that have to the human life? The 27 Club has always felt like a weird, resonating idea with me. Like I felt like I had some weird connection to it? Or maybe that’s my imagination and my childhood and too much MTV and VH1. Who really knows. All I know is I am 27 tomorrow and I have made myself very busy. I am auditioning for a school tomorrow morning, have an important phone call around noon, a vegan brunch that I planned myself, and then another audition at 4pm for a company that I’ve been wanting to work for. I keep thinking back to my 25th birthday and inviting people over to have drinks with me and creating a ridiculous song and how much of a different person I am now. And working towards all of this. And I can’t help but think who do I really have in my corner right now? Who is actually here for me? And why do I feel like I am here on my own right now? Even though I am here. I am here and that is enough. I can celebrate myself without a room full of people. I got me.
I’m always caught in between ‘is this a sign from my Ancestors? and anxiety” Between “I will do it! and what will?” Between “help me, and I got it” I really don’t know. I’m upset and frustrated for no real reason, no logical reason, other than I don’t know. I don’t know. I have no answers. Not for what I’m feeling. And not for what I’m experiencing. It’s the unknown, and it scares the actual shit out of me. I never realized how comfortable I had been in the past until now. The first few months of cohabitation were fucking rough. I never knew how much I loved my solitude until I had to plan it. Yes, I love having my own place. Yes, I love being able to cook my own meals without having to clean up some one else’s mess (all the time) but it was hard. This happens every month. I have to remind myself that in this life, I have not experienced any of this before. I do not know the outcome, I do not know what conflict may arise, I do not know. And I have to be ok with that. I need to be ok with not knowing, I need to live in the unknown. I must, in order to continue growing. And what I do know, what I do feel, my intuition, no matter how scary, is real. Accepting the unknown had gotten me this far. Let’s not go in to hiding now.
Our rent is late. Last week I found out while I was teaching that it was my last class. After 3 years of teaching babies, Monday afternoon was the last I’d ever hear “Baby Shark” again. (with the exception of once during the weekend) Although I knew this contract’s end was inevitable, I was sad. And even more stressed out because I had no income come Friday. So here I am Saturday about a week and some change after the fact trying to understand my own version of positivity. I woke up this morning and cleaned the space. I wish I had sage because I keep finding pesky blonde hairs that are not mine. I let my non caffeinated mind go on an overthinking shame spiral and then decided to meditate, which was the best thing for me. I saw the color of my aura which I knew was a indigo magenta. And saw smiling family members who have moved on that let me know that my overthinking shame spiral was a figment of my imagination made up by my own demons. What a concept. I checked my bank account, and after the longest runaround by Wells Fargo, I think my account will finally NOT be overdrawn come Monday, and we can finally pay rent. As for my car payment, it is still not current but I’m hoping that this possible job opportunity makes all this unneeded stress all worth it. Plus, I can take the 40 bus to rehearsal downtown and unlike most people, truly enjoy public transportation. I’m excited to spend time with family tonight. I’m going to fast until then. Overall, I think I’m ok. I’ll finally start accumulating EMC points and get to do a show with my big head this summer and that’s the most exciting thing. NO THING TO COMPLAIN about. We’re all good. Everything is just fine. For real. It’s my hair everywhere.
I’m having the hardest time trying to find the motivation to write my show. I’m supposed to have it’s first draft done by the 1st. I will have the first draft done by the first and I will not limit myself. But damn this is hard. Like, I want to do too many things. And I wish I could be more clear but I just WANT TO DO IT ALL. I remember vividally seeing those 24 hour gym billboards that said “MORE WAYS TO DO IT ALL” and I remember thinking, fuck yes I can. I can DO. IT. ALL. And now I’m here and I have no idea where to start. I created a blueprint of kinda what I wanna talk about. And I’m looking at it and all I could think is, I should probably get therapy. Like, do I really want to explore all those moments in front of a live audience? Probs not. Even trying to write about it is difficult. And maybe I should start and see where it goes.. I’m just afraid of what I might uncover. So will throwing together a show a la, SNL be too much? I guess we won’t know unless we try. Meh.. here goes something.
Myths exist because someone saw something happen that inspired them to write. Or maybe before the age of technology, monsters really existed and they were real beast that we could see and feel, and be eaten alive by instead of words on paper. One eyed, fire breathing, real actual fucking beasts. But then it changed. Time changed. We were stripped and cracked open as so was mother Earth. Violence became wilder and crueler and advanced. No chance against the monsters. And they became a thing of the past. But womxn’s voices? And our stories? Testimonies and secrets we kept. Before they transformed in to the nasty shadows they’ve evolved into. They were real. Real live fucking monsters.
Whatever the truth may be, it was recorded by men. And monsters defeated, by men. Fought off and saved whole ass villages because of these monsters. But what’s happening now? The more and more I let this sink in to my mind, let it seep in to my bones the more I realize how much the womxn’s narrative has been silenced. Shadowed. Misconstrued and turned on it’s head. If the hero isn’t a man they aren’t considered heroes. Our monsters don’t exist/ They are seen as myth itself. Trauma and uprooted memories from childhood are not real monsters. Because apparently, if the man doesn’t see the monster himself, it does not exist.
If they do not recognized the monster in the mirror. It never happened. What’s left with of our reflection? Why aren’t we considered heroins?
I want you to fall in love with my soul.
I wish you would see me past my physical form.
There was a look in the beginning I thought you had for me.
The kind that others see
“he looks at you in a certain way”
Where did it go? Did the mystery disappear? Did the flame blow out? Did I mistake that look for something else? Is it because I’m always around that you don’t look at me with those eyes anymore?
I’m confused by everything. Lost in some cryptic annoying translation of what I think love is.
Maybe you were just thinking about undressing me.
and the only way I know how to respond is by doing you no favors, and getting off when you’re gone.
I take deep breaths in only to find my throat clench up before the breath drops down
I say what comes to mind out loud unless I’m not sure who’s speaking,
My heart or my head
Since I was a little girl I wrote poetry
Or words that matched up and lined up next to each other
like stanzas to look like poetry
an illusion for how they ought to be
There’s something more appealing about symmetry
But these are just my thoughts.
breaks in between
a string of mismatched rocks
and crystals pretending to be pearls
I haven’t found the cure to my sadness
Maybe this is just who I’ve become
Maybe I need to imagine a different world