Fuck you, Amy Astley.

Haha, I just wrote to Teen Vogue (such a lame magazine now) about how RIDICULOUS their recent article about marijuana use was. Oh my god, I just... ugh. Yesterday I was going to write them, but decided not to, then today I realized it bothered me that much to where I couldn't just NOT say anything. So, I guess if you want to see it, look it up on teenvogue.com, but if not, I basically just want to say this:

#1. DO YOUR RESEARCH.
The United States government and media seriously feeds the public a good deal of lies. See #2.

#2. propaganda (n)
information, ideas, or rumors deliberately spread widely to help or harm a person, group, movement, institution, nation, etc.

#3. The Weedmaps.com Blog. Again, just read... inform yourself of the laws, know your rights, etc.

#4. MARIJUANA ISN'T BAD FOR YOU!
Seriously. Refer to #3 for more info, but it isn't bad for you. No lung cancer, no memory loss, no moments that someone is so high they want to murder someone. I mean, every case always depends on the circumstances, but really, after doing the research on it, I wonder why alcohol is legal and marijuana isn't.
Alcohol is contributed to a much higher crime rate than marijuana is, that's all I'll say about that. It doesn't make a ton of sense.
And the illnesses it helps to relieve? I can't even start that list-- its HUGE.


I guess in conclusion... people like weed, "Teen Vogue," not that you're even a reputable magazine anyways, so get over it. Want to know what the most discussed topic, and actually the most favorable topic for voters, is? MARIJUANA. Yeah, Teen fucking Vogue, marijuana. Weed. Bud. Or as my dad would say, "What do you kids call it now? Grass?"

Here's the original article that pissed me off.

I'm actually really excited for this year's state elections. Hopefully the bill to legalize marijuana won't be another prop 8 disaster, but either way I think it'll be exciting... and not only that, but at least a step in the right direction.

(If you decided to tab the weedmaps.com blog, please find the post where they gave the Department of Treasury a fake 14 million dollar check for how much California could profit off marijuana. Its hilarious.)

(Also I am waiting for an old subscription to run out and that is why Teen Vogue comes to my parents' house.)

(S)abotage (O)ur (S)uccess

"We fear failure, but sabotage our success."

Excerpt.

"...but I have missed you for so long. I feel like a serious fucked up person, but the times I spent with you, however menial they seem now, still mean more to me than even I would have guessed, and so often I wish I could go back and relive them. It isn't even just the old times; I sometimes daydream about all the new things I know now, and all the new things you must know now, and how we could just sit down anywhere and talk about them for hours. I feel a yearning to share things with you, which is actually pretty normal between you and I, but I never want to do that around anyone else. I know it sounds cheesy and lame, but I've always felt a very special connection between the two of us-- one that I don't think is often felt among people. I've always tried to just categorize everything as some kind of "first love thing," like its not actually valid, but the reality of it all proves to be so much different. But, when it really comes down to it, I screwed it up, knew I had made a very premature mistake, didn't know how to go back, and now I lie here..."

...?

I spend a lot of my time feeling the victim of a constant, revolving, three-way mirror.

No One Does it Like You.

Also, this (and the whole album) has been making me really happy lately,



Department of Eagles-- No One Does it Like You.

And in that case, look up some Grizzly Bear videos. So. Good.

Running All Around.

Its been a while since I've written anything. Well, actually I tend to write a lot, but I rarely post anything-- sometimes just the act of writing feels cathartic enough for the time being and I don't see the point in publishing it (although I should).

Anyways, my mind has been spinning for the past couple days and I have yet to sit down and be constructive about it all. I feel hesitant to go into complete detail, so the rest will just be an overview of my thoughts, I guess.

Honestly, the past week has been very testing. I have tested people, and been tested in return. A lot has been broken down into pieces that I fear have little chance of being brought back to life again, but I still have hope that not all is lost. I really had to weigh my own thoughts and opinions on myself based on what others have said and thought, and honestly, I will say for the first time... everyone is right, but me. A pattern is a pattern, is a pattern, is a pattern. I cannot ignore that the things I regularly partake in bring out certain emotions in people that I'm close to anymore; its happened time and time again. Three years of the same, repetitive situation, just with different people, should honestly be a bright red flag that I am the one who needs to change if I want anything of this caliber to succeed. I spent, and at this point, do still spend a lot of time in denial, not believing when other people say that I lie, that I steal, that I manipulate anything I can to get my way, and when I'm confronted, god forbid because who knows what I'll act like.
ITS ALL TRUE. It is all so frighteningly true that I guess, sometimes I felt better denying it than owning up to my faults. I almost feel like I know what all those insane people mean when they say its easier to live a lie than to own up to the truth. It is easier. When its been going on for years, its far easier to lie to yourself than to take a true, hard look at yourself and admit to everything that's wrong.

I spent a lot of time blaming things on other people. I spent a lot of time avoiding situations because I was afraid. I also spent a lot of time twisting peoples' words to make it sound like I was the victim in an argument that I had created. Years later, I have to wonder, where the hell has any of that gotten me? My family doesn't have any trust for me, they can't count on me or anything I say, and they're constantly stressed over my well being. I think that they love me and believe in my potential, but there isn't much they can do anymore. I lost a lot of friends directly due to my behavior, and while I thought maybe they would still have respect for me because of what we had, they don't, and not many of them have the patience to put up with me anymore. I always thought, "Well, if they could just have a little bit of fucking sympathy for me, maybe it'd all be fine," but the entire time I knew... that just isn't the way it always works. People reach a breaking point. And on the other hand, why on earth would I want to continue a friendship just based on the fact its only still continuing because they're sympathetic towards me? I don't know, its a strange, double-edged sword.


I've spent most of today feeling like I was on the verge of tears, and I couldn't really pinpoint as to why. But then I decided to put myself in the shoes of the people that love me, and I instantly saw their frustration. If I had to deal with someone like me, I don't know if I could do it, to be honest. All of a sudden I was so mad, thinking about the actual, true talent that I harbor and the fact that I do nothing with it. I was mad at the fact that I've suddenly become so afraid to do certain things, that I have become a person who voluntarily wants to resist change, that I have done a complete 180 from the young girl I used to be.

I don't know, I'm sort of just rambling now, but ultimately I realized that I want to be a person who makes no excuses or apologies for anything (I mean, unless its truly offensive, but I don't see myself going down that road anytime soon). I want to be as close to fearless as I can get. I don't want my own backwards mind to hold me back anymore-- in fact, I'd like to try and use to my advantage somehow.

Also, it sounds lame, but many of these thoughts came to light after I learned of the passing of Lee (Alexander) McQueen. This past year of many substantial celebrity deaths has hit close to home, considering the state of my own father (who is actually doing much better, and is apparently free of any cancer cells now!), but the suicide of Alexander McQueen was something so shocking and truly heartbreaking. I looked up to his apparent fearlessness and no boundaries persona/personality very much, not to mention his extraordinary vision and influence on fashion during his short career. He is what I consider a true artist, and it pains me that I'll never be graced with another collection from him (although his brand will still continue, I'm not sure it'll ever be the same). I remember visiting his store and literally having my jaw on the floor the entire time, envisioning the picture of Daria Werbowy in his rainbow printed feather dress from W, I think it was... a picture that I have saved somewhere but can't remember the fucking password...

Anyways, I don't know, I'll write something a little more structured when I'm less scatter-brained, hah. There is still a ton more that I've thought about, and even more I have yet to think about.

"I made my shoe shine with the coal, but my polish didn't shine the hole..."


I feel at the brink of a lot of things right now.
I've just been fired, the new year came around, we had a Dutch couch surfer stay with us who made me want to travel more than anything, a friend's girlfriend just passed away from a car crash...

Nothing makes me want to get up and run more than this moment. I'm about to sound really cliche, but when something like death plays a part in my most recent hearings or events, I can't help but want to take to the streets and actually live. No work, no school, just seeing the entire world for what it is in whatever way I can.

Our couch surfer, Alice, stayed with us right after I had gotten fired. She told me how she works with mentally challenged children, but after an incident when she'd been punched in the face by a student and had broken her cheek, she filed for some kind of workers' compensation and got a couple grand out of it. She ended up spending every penny just traveling. Her thoughts were pretty similar to mine, you know, feeling bad about potentially suing someone to get some money, but she told me that it was absolutely worth it and she doesn't regret it at all.
At this point, I'm able to file a suit for wrongful termination, and honestly... I just might do it. Too many companies have been rude and unsympathetic to me, along with not even going about procedures the right way, that I have an absolute case. And you know, worst case scenario... I lose. Best case scenario? I make a couple grand or more and finally travel the world like I want to. It could easily be more trouble than what its worth, but what its worth is too good not to try. So I guess we'll see.

In other news, its amazing how much better I feel when I don't have a job. The jobs people have to work when they're young are so belittling. Not to say I don't think they're important, because they absolutely are and thus why I've had one for the past four years... but still, damn. Then again, I will admit that being belittled will ultimately lead to some kind of humbleness, which is the problem I've found amongst most people who've never had a job of any kind. Ah, well...

I'm just rambling now. Its still early, but I think its time for Planet Earth and some rest. Oh, allergies. Turning me into an old woman.

Positive Negative.

Well, I can say that I tried, but ultimately failed. Another day, another firing-- should I be used to getting fired from every job I have now? Maybe I jinxed myself on Christmas when I made a joke about it to my family. Let's just say that, without any prior written warning, I was let go because... "Well, I think its mutual, that maybe you're just not a good fit for us, perhaps somewhere else." At least she knew the feeling was mutual, and that I hated every second I had to spend on the streets of West Hollywood, but still. I'm being pushed to believe that maybe I'm not a good fit for anywhere, except maybe a remote gas station in the middle of nowhere where I'd have no expectations besides knowing how to use a cash register.

In any case, relief is always a good feeling, except when its combated by questions such as, "How am I going to pay my rent? How am I going to eat? How am I going to get through each and every day without going completely insane?"
Then again, maybe that's what I deserve for taking a job in West Hollywood without really knowing and fully realizing the superficiality that area embodies. I cannot even begin to describe how disgusted I felt every single day I pulled up on Robertson Blvd, knowing I was going to step into a store filled with people more fake than anyone I encountered in Orange County. There's only so many times I can listen to a 100 lb girl complain about her "stocky legs," then criticize me for using box hair dye before a physical throw down takes place.


Its interesting the way something sort of major takes effect on me-- first, sadness, then anger, then a rare boost of confidence. To be honest, I've been feeling very down and uninspired lately, and I think what's to blame is a consistent schedule of having to be somewhere I loathe every aspect of just to make a living. In retrospect, I was happier being completely broke all the time than I was with a full time job and money, which I guess instills it into me even more that I'm too stubborn to simply "suck it up" when it comes to something I don't like. I need passion, I need learning, and most of all I need genuine people alongside me to share the journey.

The best example I can think of right now was when I filmed for Melrose Place about two weeks ago as an extra. The call time was for 6:30 AM, I left at 5 AM for Malibu, couldn't find the place, and just as I was about to drive home in frustration I finally discovered where I needed to be alongside PCH. It was a twelve hour day filled with so much waiting around, but I honestly haven't experienced such a great time in a while. Every single person I spoke with was so genuinely nice, including all of the wardrobe stylists, make-up artists, directors, etc. I walked onto the set completely expecting to be a lonesome recluse, but it turns out all the extras become really bored and have no problem talking to one another. Honestly, it was the first time I felt accepted in such a long while, and it felt so fulfilling. Towards the end of the evening, I was smoking a cigarette in the holding area with a new friend, talking about Planet Earth, traveling, new cities and new experiences, our favorite kinds of alcohol, our life ambitions and what we want to accomplish... I have trouble finding the right way to explain how refreshed it made me feel. I can't wait to do it again.

And, you know, that's not to say that my current situation is something I dislike. I've come to love Long Beach a lot. Especially a day like today, when the rain comes and goes, I can listen to old Modest Mouse and dance in the mirror, continue my painting of a 1920's German mug with watercolors and the new Prismacolors Zach bought me for Christmas, along with looking up George Harrison on Wikipedia then having it lead me more into Hinduism than I previously know... you know, things like that. All I've been hearing lately to counteract my insecure mind is that I just need to focus on growth, which I must admit, felt daunting to me at first, but seems more realistic now. I know my intelligence, integrity, and simple human decency hasn't left me quite yet, so there's still room for whatever else I want to squish in there.
Is it odd that being employed leaves me feeling like I'm stuck in a hole I can't get out of? And that my creative desire manifests itself so much more when my schedule is absolutely just at odds with whatever might happen that day? Inspiration seems to come to me when my mind is just let free and not confined by certain boundaries just to earn money.

I guess I can welcome myself to the artist's life, for once and for all. I get it now. Cheers.

What Would I Want? Sky.

My therapist asked me today if he liked flowers, obviously hinting that if he did, maybe I should get him some to make up for the way I've been acting. I answered that yes, he loves them, and picks them frequently to hang up in my car to dry. Her eyes almost became teary as she exclaimed how cute that was, and I think during that moment I realized how lucky I am.
I honestly don't know how I have anything to complain about when I come back to my apartment after work, dead tired, and there is an amazing meal waiting for me, complete with my clean laundry, a clean kitchen, a kitchen table for the empty space after a month, etc. Yet, I sit there and bitch to one of the most amazing people about my new job while he is still unemployed and desperately looking. I complain about him touching me, the way he slams my car doors, his infrequent carelessness... really, the smallest things I can find.

I've come to realize that it takes a very strong person to like me, let alone be friends with me, and even more to be with me significantly. I am incredibly selfish, lazy, cynical, self-deprecating... my mind wanders constantly, I'm always scattered-- I'm basically all over the place and there is no good guess as to what I'm feeling at any given time. Its become quite obvious that I simply need someone who can just deal with me, and though that is what I've found, I still feel incredibly guilty.

I don't know. In a lot of ways I still feel really lonely, and like I've lost a part of myself. It isn't anyone's fault but my own, however I have no idea how to fix it. Maybe it just takes time, but this new place doesn't feel like my own quite yet. It feels similar to all the surreal dreams I had the past few years of me moving out, and not exactly like its all really there. In a lot of ways, I miss my parents' house because I miss my home. I miss my room, my sanctuary, the only place I could go to when I needed to just let everything out on my now broken computer. I never thought I'd say it, but I sort of miss my strange family dynamic, and my dog and the backyard and taking drives through the hills when I felt bad. I was sort of writing the drafts of a memoir on my old computer too, before I spilled beer on it like an idiot.

All I want is to feel comfortable in every way, shape and form. I want to love where I live, feel okay about my family and friends, know how to express the love I want to express, but to also have my alone time that I used to have back at my old house. I'm too much of a solitary creature to just give that up. I guess in some way, I'm trying to find a piece of myself again. I'm trying to listen to the music I love again, I'm trying to learn new things, paint more, dance more... I've been looking for circus classes so I can get back into acrobatics, I'm working at a new job that has so much product I love...

But I'm afraid that no matter how hard I try, I won't like any of it.

Currently sitting with coffee and a cigarette because I got to work way too early. At least I get to show up in bum clothes and change into all the stuff we sell there.

I'm having trouble controlling my anxiety with this insane new job in West Hollywood containing a bunch of girls that seem to have no interest in getting to know me and a clientele filled with daddy's credit cards on file. Feeling like I don't belong would still be an under statement. My therapist suggested to bring something of comfort with me to help; she suggested an old stuffed animal. I immediately thought of just putting whiskey in my coffee mug. In a way, it is nice to know though that once I become more comfortable in this hectic new environment, I'll be that much more experienced. Plus if I can actually hold this job, I could always be transferred to one of the New York stores...

For the mean time I've been inspired by still decorating the apartment, working on a still life of an old German mug from 1910, red lipstick every day, faux fur, Russian style, envisioning my cactus garden once I have money, and Robert Plant with Allison Krauss.

Four more days until Internet...

Sometimes it seems like being happy and content can be just as confusing as the opposite. I find myself with nothing to complain about, yet I still find something at the end of the day to contemplate.

It feels weird to have obtained what essentially is almost a completely new life. New home for the first time, another new job but this time in Los Angeles; the next year of my life is going to be totally different. I will say though, for the first time, I actually feel like an adult, and it feels really good. For whatever reason I was obsessed with adulthood and the thought of being independent from such a young age, so I guess I finally feel like I've obtained a part of that. Though, this is most likely the best part, considering my rent is cheap and I work at a store with all of my dream shoes at half off. Again, not much to complain about.

I'm still without Internet and typing on this phone is driving me mad, but I want to mention just for my own sake that I feel inspiration coming back. It's nuts to me how I was right all along, and the second I left my parents' house I immediately wanted to get a job, paint, stretch, dance, learn guitar, look up circus schools, register to be an extra for television shows... so much. All because I wasn't stuck in a supressing environment anymore. I feel the drive to utilize my talents again and I can't even explain how great it feels.

Bleh, there will be more interesting updates once I have a real computer. Until then...

I guess I'll begin by saying that I am not dead-- but my computer is. Thus my absence from this blog, but luckily my iPhone does come in handy when I'm in the mood. I feel like I should also state that correcting misspellings on this thing can be a bitch, so don't hold what will definitely be some poor grammar to come against me.
Where do I even start? The past few months have flown by like nothing. To put it simply, it's felt like a whirlwind of appointments, medications (whether prescribed or self induced), interviews, dealing with difficult people and difficult situations, but at the same time falling more and more in love by the day and realizing that I finally feel like an adult. I'd have to honestly say that going up to San Francisco has been the only big highlight of the past couple months, and the more weeks that go by from the day we returned, the more I just want to go back. It was the epitome of one of those vacations when you can truly escape reality and be free, but then of course comes the unfortunate part-- returning back to reality. I can't even explain the many depressed emotions that come over me while exiting off the 91 towards my parents' house. It feels like entering the shadow of an ominous black cloud. Every. Single. Time.

For maybe the first time though, I think sanity and logical thinking are on my side, which is a pleasant and such a desperately needed change. I feel unphased by a lot of things that would have frightened me in the past. The best part is knowing that sometime in the next month, I'll be out of Orange County, and hopefully for good. I will admit I feel guilty at times because of my family situation, but I've realized at this age and the position I'm in, it's okay to be a little selfish and do something that may hurt others but will benefit my mental well being. I feel selfish even writing this though, especially because typing on this phone forces me to be a bit brief.

Hmm, maybe I'll write more when an actual computer is in front of me. I've attempted to write in a hand written journal, but have discovered my hand cramps within two minutes. Stay in school, kids. Also listen to Grizzly Bear. I literally can't stop since I saw them in San Francisco.