Social conformity, self-involvement; or, 25 Random Facts.

1. It takes me a few seconds too long to edit my thoughts for conversation; therefore, I feel I am best in writing.
   
2. I once had a promising career in freestyle rhyme battling; that’s as much as I’ll ever reveal about that.
   
3. My favorite snacks include avocado + anything, apple slices + peanut butter, pineapple + cottage cheese, and pudding.
   
4. A deep love for flowers causes me to buy/pick them compulsively.
   
5. Compliments still make me uncomfortable.
   
6. I pretend they don’t.
   
7. An impulse to document moments comes from an intense anxiety over losing my memory and/or mind.
   
8. My earliest memory is of my mother holding me on her lap as she showed me a rainbow through a glass of water on a sunny day.
   
9. What made me saddest as a child was seeing people beg for money at the border crossing in Mexico. I vowed that I’d make enough money one day to hand out bills to all those in need; however, foreseeing wasteful expenditures, I planned on attaching notes to the bills, listing examples of good spending. (...I was an odd child.)
10. What made me happiest as a child was climbing haystacks with my grandpa’s giant hay hooks. And Babysitter’s Club books.
    
11. I will miss Italy until I make my home there.
    
12. If I could pick up a talent overnight, it’d be playing the guitar. Like a rockstar.
    
13. On rare and inspired occasions, I’ll take a caffeine pill in the middle of the night and let the world change colors for me. I get pages and pages of writing out of those experiences. I’m left with the only kind of exhaustion I like.
    
14. The degree of my silliness is known to few people. I am fighting to maintain composure constantly.
    
15. This summer, I tried converting my common nickname from “Fabi” to “Anna”, but it only really caught on with the Starbucks employees.
    
16. I suspect the life I inhabited before entering the world anew on March 3, 1986 was one of a young woman with flowers in her hair and love in her eyes. She followed nothing in particular across the country, toting her own guitar. Her first loves were The Doors. She died of heartbreak.
    
17. I dislike one-word responses to texts, and nondescript playlist names.
    
18. I’m dreadful at playing cool.
    
19. My tendency towards reclusion is becoming more and more apparent to me. Lately my life has been characterized by withdrawal from society, followed by fleeting reemergence, then back to withdrawal again. It is a cycle I am only minding now but unsure I’ll ever break.
    
20. Made-up words are tossed around my head constantly. I love when made-up words turn out to be real (see: reclusion, above).
    
21. I subscribe to three magazines—Glamour, Rachel Ray, and Rolling Stone. Interpret from that what you will.
    
22. I have many interpretations for love. The most conventional is my most seldom used.
    
23. I prefer toting pad and pencil, not laptop, to coffee shops. This is not an attempt to be indie cool.
    
24. When I can manage it, I take my outdoor runs minutes before dusk. The setting sun veils the countryside with a romantic, antiqued glow and lends the physical exertion an almost ethereal high. I’m likely to be bitten by a rattlesnake soon, though…which I’m not looking forward to.
    
25. Somehow, I’ll always find it productive to create a playlist. Or any list, for that matter. (Exhibit #1…)
    

James.

Some game is obvious. Other game, you don’t realize is game until you find yourself fighting back tears on your drive back home.

One more thing, that I wasn’t able to say before I left: You made me happy.

Mark.

We met innocently enough, a chance encounter at a chance location in a dead town.

I made you laugh. There are only certain people who respond well to my humor and you were one of them. I felt proudly quirky around you, at first.

The flattery was addictive. You were so willing to listen to me and it felt safe. I’ve never felt safe. You sent me flowers.

I always felt I talked too much. You didn't talk enough to make me comfortable with it. My increased frustration would inspire me to invent more elaborations and add darker twists to my stories. I would tell of curiosities I never witnessed, of arguments that never occurred, of ambitions I never dreamed. They were meant to rouse, these stories, but they only amused. Your eyes would follow mine and you'd chuckle, but I could see I was speaking at nothing. I was an entertainer facing an eager audience, housed in a dim room where I alone was stealing all the light. I began wanting to lie to you. 

You wanted more. You were impressed and I think you wanted to keep me. The truth is, I’m afraid to be kept, I’m afraid to be touched, I’m afraid of the end. 

I’m sorry.

Luke.

You were a musician. I think that’s what made up most of the appeal. Also, maybe the fact I was under alcohol’s anesthesia for most of the time I was getting to know you.

I met you right before summer vacation and you left an impression on me that I just don’t get from most. You were wonderfully intense, thoughtful, and talented. You knew this and you damn well took advantage of it. You dared to manipulate my well-intentioned soul and soon I became convinced I needed your nurturing.

Then, the day I awoke to seeing you asleep in the bed next to mine, with your arms wrapped around her, I learned.

I'm okay, though. Thanks for not asking.

My sentiments exactly.

Solitude

by Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Laugh, and the world laughs with you;

Weep, and you weep alone.

For the sad old earth must borrow its mirth,

But has trouble enough of its own.

Sing, and the hills will answer;

Sigh, it is lost on the air.

The echoes bound to a joyful sound,

But shrink from voicing care.

Rejoice, and men will seek you;

Grieve, and they turn and go.

They want full measure of all your pleasure,

But they do not need your woe.

Be glad, and your friends are many;

Be sad, and you lose them all.

There are none to decline your nectared wine,

But alone you must drink life's gall.

Feast, and your halls are crowded;

Fast, and the world goes by.

Succeed and give, and it helps you live,

But no man can help you die.

There is room in the halls of pleasure

For a long and lordly train,

But one by one we must all file on

Through the narrow aisles of pain.

Also, new post: www.ivblogz.com/tales_of_a_twentysomethin

Self-Initiated Invasiveness, Part I.

(I wrote this a while back for my other blog in an attempt to give people what they always want- more personal information. Although many of my answers would be different today than they were just three months ago, it still seems to be relevant to this forum. Looking back, one thing is clear- either I'm lighthearted or just really silly.)

As Autumn quickly approaches, Ms. Twenty-Something sits down with Ms. Twenty-Something to discuss resolutions, inner peace, and her time in the Valley thus far.

Well, you're looking quite dashing today. You know, you're a lot prettier in person than in that picture on your blog.

Why, thank you. You look pretty great, yourself. Have you been working out?

Yes but stop, you're making me blush. So, you're pretty elusive about opening up too much to the public. Why did you agree to this interview?

I figure it's time to share a bit and see if it endears me to any of the readers, maybe. I'll answer any questions as long as they don't resemble those annoying quizzes you get passed along from your myspace friends. Like, who cares if I prefer Coke over Pepsi or if I like long-haired guys over their short-haired counterparts?

Point well taken. I'll get my one dumb question out of the way now, then. Are you single?

Yes, I am happily and intentionally single. I’m kind of in an independent and self-absorbed phase and I don't think I want anyone getting in the way of all that independence and self-absorption… unless they’re really really cool.

What are you doing right now?

Well, the TV's on KPBS, if that's what you mean. I was watching Casablanca then it ended and went onto this bio about Jim Croce, then onto another about the Warners Bros. KPBS is most interesting when you least expect it- you ever notice that?

Yeah, now that you mention it. Do you spend most of your time watching television?

No, I have a lot of animosity towards television these days. Actually, I spend most of my spare time watching movies. I have the Netflix 4-at-a-time plan so I pretty much always have a new movie to watch. Not that I have nothing better to do. I’m just an expert escapist.

You probably find a lot of great films at that rate. Maybe you should post about your recent faves sometime.

Yeah, that's a great idea. I'll do that soon.

You started off the year with a pretty serious list of resolutions. How’s your progress on that?

It’s satisfactory. This is the first real break I’ve taken, ever, from anything, so it’s strange coming up with things to keep me busy rather than just being busy inextricably. However, once I sat down and thought about things I could do in a year to make myself a better and happier person, the list came pretty quickly. Some goals I’ll have to extend a few years, because they’re pretty ambitious, but others I’m proud to have made progress on.

Have you changed pretty dramatically?

Fundamentally, no, and I guess that was the point. At the beginning of the year, I had started feeling a little divisive; as though I had lost the motivation I left home with and abandoned my original goals. My persona and perspective became dependent on the novel, the grand, and the ephemeral.

You’re being vague. Can you expand on that?

Well, while I was growing up in the Valley, I felt I was very much hindered in what I could articulate, believe, and be. In a new place, I was able to develop the aspects of my personality that had been muted prior to that point. As a result, I think I reached a state of imbalance and started losing sight of what I meant to pursue all along- (world peace). So, when I say I haven’t changed fundamentally I mean I’ve managed to regain the part of me that had been left behind, and have started to chip away at all things superfluous.

You’re deep, but you could probably learn to express yourself more eloquently.

Yeah, I know. I’ll add it to my list of resolutions.

Matt Damon recently said something along the lines of “the possibility of Sarah Palin becoming president is downright scary”. He also compared her candidacy to a bad Disney movie. Is he absolutely right, and gorgeous?

Yes. But I don’t think we should ever hinge our individual opinions on his words or any other celebrity’s. Or Nancy Grace’s.

Give us a link to a funny/sad, politically relevant video.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FD7BDP3XMG0

Today, you woke up to find your ipod earphones and Macbook power adaptor cord chewed through. You suspect a certain petite pup. Do you still believe dog is [wo]man’s best friend?

Yes, a friend- albeit sharp-fanged and untrainable. On the bright side, I have been taught to be less materialistic and more patient- almost to the point of ethereal calm. How long can I mourn the loss of $100 worth of Mac accessories? Only until she manages to make me laugh with some charming puppy move.

Do you equate this to inner peace?

Maybe. I don’t know. Maybe one form of it. The other will probably come with children... that actually doesn't make any sense.

I mean...kind of. Thanks for your time. This has been wildly informative.

No, thank YOU.

Here's lookin' at me, kid.

A woman, a dream, a world.

It’s not that I want to be the best.
I just want to do the best I can,
with this body
with this mind
with this soul,
Here on earth
In this moment.


I’m struggling with a few things. Namely, the feelings of inadequacy I’ve been harboring for a few weeks now. I’ve become muddled in morose reflection, mostly about life's inconsistencies and my invariable and undeveloped potential.

I think back at the potential I had as a young kid, of the potential I had as a high school graduate. I was motivated, gifted, and had just uncovered a plethora of opportunity so to act upon those attributes. I wish I would have continued my focus on writing. And literature. Instead, I got swept up in other things- in EVERYthing - at once, my curiosity both enlightened and betrayed me, beseeching me to implore every other possibility of study. I've never stuck to anything long enough to become great at it...

Is that really a bad thing, though? I know I chastise this aspect of my self frequently, but it's something I can hardly suppress. I’m mostly comforted by the thought that if I really set my mind to it, I could accomplish wondrous feats. Ugh. But that makes me sounds like one of those high school stoners when responding to their apathy towards academics. They kid themselves into thinking they’re leading meaningful lives just because they can think meaningfully when they're high.

Am I kidding myself?


Or is thinking meaningfully and peacefully enough? Does living a happy and complacent life, independent of action, make the world a better place? My self-indulgent idea of a perfect life has always been to live in a charming villa (or rundown studio) in Italy, philosophizing, cooking, and writing. I would live hopefully and patiently, off freelance writing, teaching English, and maybe even nightclub singing. And I would own a quaint little flower shop in a piazza. I would live a satisfying life, I think, in this way.

But would it be remarkable?

I don’t think I could ever forgive myself if I didn’t do anything to impress my being onto the world. I don’t need to be a renowned scientist/author/activist/actor/musician. I don’t need fame or notoriety. But to have some kind of legacy, even a small one, and to know I used my capabilities as a human being to influence as much as I could, would allow me to climb into my death bed in peace.

…which is why I’m feeling so restless with my current locale and situation. I’m living the life I never wanted to lead, replaying the same routine day in and day out and contently satisfying only survival standards. I justify this life by affirming it is simply a “time-out” for me, a retreat and rehabilitation of sorts, which has allowed me to rededicate myself to a few foundational values and mature enough to commit to one thing, if not somethings.



But what now?


I can't continue like this, without stimulation, without passion, and without novelty. Thinking too much and doing too little. I'm driving myself mad. Can you tell?



On my mind right now:
"Fix It"- Ryan Adams