And so it is.
and if you’re still breathing, you’re the lucky ones.
'cause most of us are heaving through corrupted lungs.
setting fire to our insides for fun
collecting names of the lovers that went wrong.
- daughter, “youth”
i may be in a quiet, introspective, slightly sad mood right now — but i also just really love this song.
i’m starting to wonder if the reason i don’t have a guy in my life is because i never saw a guy in my life.
most of what i was interested in when i was younger has manifested itself into my adult life in some way. i always loved reading and writing when i was a kid, and my favorite class was always english (or “language arts”, as it was called in elementary and junior high school). i always loved words. i always loved putting words together. i would read the dictionary for fun.
the only thing i loved more than writing was fashion. it interested me even before i knew it was a thing you could be interested in. like most little girls, i begged my mom to let me dress myself, and relished the time i would spend picking out my clothes and pairing like things together. the older i got, the more obsessed i became. if i spent half as much time in high school focusing on my schoolwork as i did worrying about what i was going to wear that day, i probably could have been valedictorian. i’m blessed to be able to have a job that combines my two biggest loves.
something i never saw for myself, however, was a dude. i wasn’t one of those little girls that dreamt of finding a husband, getting married, or having a huge wedding — and when i hear women say “i’ve been dreaming about this day since i was a little girl”, it makes me shudder a bit. while those girls were probably fantasizing about what their bouquets would look like or which song they would walk down the aisle to, i was furiously typing on my word processor, working on my “novel”. not like one is better than the other. i’m just saying.
i never dreamt about getting married. i dreamt about making fantastic friends, having a great job, a nice place to live, and more importantly, being able to support myself. i dreamt of living in a big city and coming and going as i pleased, wearing cute clothes and traveling a lot. and now, at almost 26, i can say that i’m doing it (well, some of it). but i’m starting to think that the things i didn’t dream about aren’t going to happen, for that exact reason.
full disclosure: i’ve been in a total of one (1) serious relationship in my life. i rarely date. guys that i want to approach me never do, and i get nervous to put myself out there because i have a hard time with rejection. i don’t walk around pitying myself, but i do sometimes feel like i might die alone because i value my job and apartment and friends more than a relationship. it’s how i’ve always been, and that scares me.
i never, ever had a ken doll. oh, i had a million barbies; i had barbie’s sisters skipper and midge and baby staci, and all of her forced multicultural friends. but never ken. i couldn’t be bothered. if my mom told me i could pick out one thing at the store, i chose barbie. or a set of clothes for barbie. i chose barbie’s car, or shit for her apartment, and once i chose the barbie mcdonald’s thing so she could have somewhere to work. but never ken! no time, who cares? he was only going to slow her down and distract her from making something of herself.
whenever i thought about having kids of my own, there was never a guy in the picture. SINCE FOREVER. sometimes i have dreams that i’m pregnant or that i have a kid, and i’m always by myself. dark much? as much as i hope to get married and have kids one day, it seems as if my subconscious is telling me that i should probably start researching adoption agencies and/or sperm banks (not that there’s anything wrong with that). my point is, i’m starting to get stressed out — if i never saw myself having something, does that mean i’ll never have it?
it’s been almost a year since i’ve moved to san francisco, and i’ve been extremely lucky to have found some amazing friends — but i’m always looking for more. here are some things you should know about me, should you want to be buds:
1. i’ll probably try way too hard to be your friend. at almost 26 years young, i’ve found myself trying entirely too hard to be friends with people, only to be shut down. “oh, that’s cute, but i’ve got enough friends. my friend quota has been met this year, maybe in 2012, thanks girl!” — and to make matters worse, i actually care! i’ve walked home from work being sad that nobody invited me to lunch, or found myself near tears upon receiving a text that someone didn’t want to get drinks with me. wake up, fool! you’re a grown woman, calm the fuck down.
2. i’ll probably not try hard enough to be your friend. maybe it’s because i’m a libra, maybe it’s because i’m a hot mess; who knows. truth is, sometimes i shut down and get very introspective and i don’t want to be around people/think it’s better that people not be around me. i’ll probably turn down some of your invites to hang out (this is totally hypocritical of #1, i know, ugh #ihatemyselfsometimes) but i promise i’ll make it up to you. for every invitation i turn down, i’ll show up at your apartment with a bottle of wine and a “sorry i’m cuckoo” card.
3. i have a bad case of the bitchface. i’ve said it before and i’ll say it again; i’m a lot happier than i look! i love my life (90% of the time)! if i’m walking down the street or sitting at my desk or you catch me in the ladies’ room, okay yes, i probably don’t look very happy but i swear i am! i’m aware of my bitchface, and i’m working on it. please don’t let that deter you from being my friend. and if you suffer from chronic bitchface too, all the better! we can go get a drink and scare people off together.
4. my nail polish is always chipped. fucking always, and not by choice or anything. maybe it’s because i use cheap nail polish, maybe it’s my iron deficiency, i don’t know. but i can guarantee you that even a day after getting even the most professional of manicures, my nail polish will be chipped, and if that bothers you, we probably shouldn’t be friends.
5. i’ll be totally honest with you. if you haven’t figured it out by now, i’m a pretty truthful person. i don’t mince words, but i’m also super objective. if you ask me if i like your new top/earring/bag/shoes, and they’re totally not my thing and i would never wear them, but i know that they’re amazing for you and your style and they look great on you, i will tell you. just because something isn’t for me, doesn’t mean it can’t be fabulous for someone else, and vice versa! so let’s go shopping, girl (at H&M or zara or maybe the barneys warehouse sale, i don’t have that neimans ca$h yet)!
photo via kris atomic
so this week may have been one of the best weeks of my life, musically and professionally.
first, watch the throne was released, which was a gift in itself. some really amazing things happened at work, and i’m super excited for new experiences and new relationships. as if i wasn’t jazzed enough about it being friday, my coworker/new pal molly surprised me by creating a blog of our collected conversations about hip-hop (namely jay-z, kanye, lil wayne, and drake). it was the nicest thing ever. i shed a little tattooed tear.
so in response to my post title (a line from “otis”), i think that if hova were in my position, he would kick back, have a glass of vino, enjoy the moment, and catch up on his google reader. JK probs not, but that’s what i’m doing anyway.
erin foster, single girls guide #10
a little piece of my heart is gone today.
fuck what people think. i seriously don’t care what you have to say about her, her life choices, or her issues. no matter what, she was a genius. she was one of the most talented artists of our generation.
i wish i was as honest as amy was on “i heard love is blind”. i dare you to channel such raw emotion as she did in “you sent me flying”. if someone broke your heart, i fucking wish you would tell that fucker off like in “take the box”.
amy winehouse was not only one of my favorite artists, but i related to her music and her words more than i ever have with anybody. and yes, i get it; she had her demons, and her addictions. and it may not be a total shock that she has passed away at such an early age. but death is death. it’s sad, and scary, and fucked up, no matter how much you think someone “had it coming”. you can fuck off for saying that, by the way.
the saddest part is, there will be no more music. i will enjoy and savor and soak in back to black and frank and the b-sides and demos as much as i have been, but there will be nothing new. she was a huge talent, that is now gone. and just like our parents told us about how amazing janis joplin and jimi hendrix and otis redding and marvin gaye were, and just like they played their music in our homes when we were growing up, i will play amy’s music for my children and explain to them that smart people can often do stupid things, and huge talent sometimes comes with a huge price.
rest in peace, amy. and thank you for making the music that you did, while you were here. it has helped me, strengthened me, and comforted me in more ways than anyone will ever know.