7/12/11:: A meditation on prosophobia and dependency

Have you ever had to fight two opposing forces and push through to the center? (The dark center where you can't see the ground or feel the walls.) Both of my arms are stretched out in front and I'm reaching forward for something on which to stabilize, but everything is shifting and getting lost before I can grab on.

I meditate on my thoughts during the afternoons. I whisper mantras to myself in the morning when I sit alone in the park before work. You can endure this. It can all be endured.

Things were not so complicated just a short while ago. I had orientation to my surroundings– to the space between myself and other people. I've been a loner for a long time, and the only thing that puzzled me then was my general numbness and lack of emotion. Now I find feelings tucked away in every crevice. They creep up on me at the most unexpected moments, and I find myself overly sensitive to the opinions and actions of others. Say the word and I'll buy you dinner. I'll drop my plans. I'll rearrange my outlook. I'll make room for you and your needs because I don't seem to have any. Before you know it, my needs are one-in-the-same, indistinguishable from yours. I need to be needed. I need to have a clear space in their territory. I need things that are irrational, illogical, immeasurable, and most importantly… incapable of being stuffed into a tiny box on my calendar.

What a radical left turn.

I have melted and reformed as an entirely different animal. Lack of emotion replaced with hypersensitivity and dependency on the very same people that isolated me with their poor understanding of my condition.

Uncompromising waves and undercurrents and moodswings and fear.

Anxiety builds and goals get reprioritized and/or tossed to the wayside when you say the word.

Come closer. But get the fuck away from me.

8/16/10:: You're Telling Me a Fairy Tale

Here is the math.

If I wake at 6am to have enough time to shower and drive to work before 8am, and if after a long stint of traffic I arrive home from work at 6pm, I have spent 12 hours of my 24-hour day consumed with work. Of this remaining 12 hours, according to tradition, I will sleep 8 hours away. On a given work day then... I have only 4 hours to live my life.

You can only imagine then how pressing it is to use these few precious hours in a way that is both relaxing and fulfilling--and these two things rarely come packaged together in the same activity. I read a lot now. I watch a lot of films. I relish little trips to town to buy myself small pleasures like gummy bears or a new novel. And you can bet I'm wearing dirty clothes because I almost never have the heart to waste these hours doing laundry.

Well anyway, a lot of this time is fittingly spent wondering what I should be doing rather than doing it, whatever it is. And as a true American through-and-through (despite however much I wish to deny it) I want myself to do things that are both self-bettering (productive) and pleasurable. An American might easily interchange the word "pleasurable" in that sentence with the word selfish-- I don't think an American ever really does anything pleasurable without feeling guilty about it. Pleasure usually means naughty, naughty means guilty, guilty usually means selfish, and if we are selfish, we probably aren't bettering ourselves, are we? As much as I've tried to beat this mindset out of myself, I can't. It's who I am because I am a product of my country. I was raised this way.

At any rate, when I try to think about this imaginary, magical, elusive activity that will make my day seem like it was well-spent, my mind always drifts back to Scotland as I tend to view that as the manifestation of both the most educational and pleasurable experiences of my life. I also tend to think of reflection on the past as an important activity for self-improvement. Conveniently, daydreaming about Scotland is also one of my most reliable private pleasures.

It's funny though that when I consult my records (my writing on Scotland--in this blog specifically, though not exclusively), I mostly wrote very surface and action-based reports. "Today I went here, and I drank this much, and I met this person, and it was good. End."

But of course, this is rarely where my mind goes when I think back to Scotland. I find the most pleasure in thinking of the little things... stretching my mind, if you will... by challenging myself to remember the tiny details of what I like to consider my secret second life there.

I'd like to perform this activity now, but this time through writing. I will write a different but very true story about Edinburgh.

------

It's a Tuesday morning in March, and it's around 10:30am. Sunlight and street voices are simultaneously pouring in through my only window which is next to my bed where a night stand should be. It's enough to wake me because I don't use an alarm clock anymore, and I've had my window open since I arrived in January. I squirm in bed, wriggling out of my red satin sheets like a snake losing its skin. I can hear bagpipes playing, and they are coming to me all the way from Princes Street. I try to imagine all of the people pushing past one another in front of the shops there, and it makes me hesitant to get up.

When I finally sit up in the small patch of sunlight hitting my bed, before my feet even hit the green shaggy 70s carpet, I light a cigarette in my underwear. My hair is sticking up, and I stare out at Edinburgh castle through my window-nightstand-portal. I smoke, and I think about what my classmates are probably doing at the studio. Should I bother going in today? Is there a point? I text the girls to meet me for a coffee down the street instead. I stand up and water my petunia before I turn my laptop on for music. This time of year I was probably listening to The Smiths on repeat.

My clothes are all scattered on the floor, and it doesn't take me long to match up an outfit... almost everything I own now is black. I pull my tights on while I'm still puffing my cigarette. I feel like a French girl in an old burlesque show dressing room. I'd never considered myself a grown woman until my time in Edinburgh, and now there is no confusion. Men here think I am an exotic creature for some reason, and I have a new liberated and dominating attitude toward sexuality because of it. In ten more minutes, I am out the door. The air seems misty like it always does in Scotland, and the pavement is covered in pink and white blossom petals. I breathe deeper here because I am irrationally convinced the air is healthier. Girls in scarves are scurrying around the college, and a boy in skinny jeans is riding bumpily over the cobblestones on a bike. The double-decker bus blows by on the corner, and a stray cat walks beside me up the sidewalk.

Lindsey is already on the corner, and she is harboring a devilish grin. We start laughing before I even make it to her. We have lots to gab about on the way to the coffee shop, and I experience the joy of uninhibited, giggly girl talk the entire way down Lauriston Place.

I start almost every day this way in Scotland for six months straight. It's so simple that you think this could happen anywhere, but it doesn't. It's the Edinburgh Daily Special on Keir Street.

5/27/10:: The New Summer

I feel a bit odd writing here, as I've been uber-neglectful of my blogging-life for a while now. I graduated college, believe it or not. I now have a BFA in graphic design from College for Creative Studies of Detroit, Michigan. Whew. It's weird how four years of my life gets summed up in one sentence. Nice and tidy-- I kind of like it.

I've moved back home to Pittsburgh, and I am living with my parents while I sort out a job/apartment. I'd been dreading this move for such a long time, but now that I've done it, it actually has been really good to me. The stress is miles away, and I've been enjoying summer days of bike riding, book reading, car washing, badminton, mocha frapps, trips to the city, and all other sorts of mini-joys. The best part of it is the weather making it so easy to fill up my days. Every morning I awake and think I hear rain-- I pull back the shade, and WALA! Gorgeous summer day. It's like my brain just refuses to believe that this kind of weather happens to people like me.

The job-front is a war I'm currently fighting. I've had one awesome interview, and it has resulted in a test project. I've been tinkering around with it for a few days now, and I am getting anxious to know where it will lead.

Oh, I also cut 8 inches of my hair off and dyed it blonde. So that's awesome too.

My family is starting to buzz with the news of our beach trip to California. We went last year, and now it is a yearly event. What makes it 5 billion times more exciting is the fact that my amazing friend from Edinburgh is coming with me. The day is approaching super fast, but it still can't get here soon enough. So much has happened since we first hatched this plan-- and now that the major college obstacles are behind me, it is making the wait even MORE excruciating.


It's my favorite part of the summer day right now-- 7pm. Sun is just setting, the breeze kicks in, and it's ALLLL good.


Back to work though. Ay dios.

3/12/09:: Busy Beez

It's been an insane week here in Apartment 322! Josh has been gone for the week, so I've had the place to myself-- frantically working away in anticipation for my week in NYC. The goal was to finish reworking pieces for my portfolio as well as complete the coursework I'll be missing next week. *Wipes sweat off of brow*

Ollie and I have been spending loads of quality time together too. Movie nights and early morning coffees by the window.



Reworked version of my 3-DIMENSIONAL poster from my Advanced VisCom I last semester. It's a crappy screenshot + photo mockup of what the finished thing will look like. New layout and typography.


An original typeface I'm creating for my Typography IV class this semester. This is the very first sketch/drawing-- we had to just form the letters for 'Yankee Doodle went to town.' We had to choose an object, location, or event to inspire the typeface. My typeface is inspired my coffee sessions in Edinburgh. :D


Snuggling down with my bebes <3




Courtney and I went shoppppinngggg. I got some new things for spring! :)

3/5/10:: Everything is going to be alright.

So it's officially spring break now. Big excitement, big scare as well. The first half of the semester has been both hellish and rewarding.

Midterm grades
Typography IV: B+
Portfolio/Presentation: B-
Advanced VisCom II: A

This upcoming week is huge for me, emotionally and work-wise. It's spring break, yes, but for me-- it is going to be the week that I really have the opportunity to pull my life together. I have tons of work to do for my portfolio class, as well as my senior thesis. I've been slipping farther and farther behind on reworking my projects for my portfolio, and I have mountains of work to do for the classes I'll be missing the week after break for NYC. It is my absolute dream right now to finish out my last 7 weeks of my college education feeling prepared, organized, and in-charge of my work. I couldn't stand to continue on OR end my college career the haphazard way they've been these past few weeks.

Also, my parents are coming for a short visit tomorrow night. Josh is leaving this evening for a week in Florida, so I extended an impromptu invitation for my parents to come up to the city and see Detroit. They've never stayed with me here, and we've never really gotten along peacefully for longer than 10 minutes. I invited them up to do something fun here, and to try to show them that I am responsible and I DO have a life here in Detroit. Their view of the city is that is a horrible place, and I hope that showing them the reality of my life here might help them understand that it's not such an open-and-shut case that I'm going right home after graduation. I also want to at least TRY to make a step forward in our daughter-parental relationship, since the past 4 years have been rather terrible between us.

That said, all this is leading up to my trip to NYC next week, where I'll be seeing Shannon, Shonagh, and a few other legendary Scotland friends. The reason I'm so adamant about this week being so successful is that I've been looking forward to NYC being fabulous for months now. It would be so great for me to be able to go and leave my organized, ready-to-go school life back here in Detroit, and just have a week to focus on the other parts of myself. My thirst for friendships, travel, freedom... I want to be able to do nothing but enjoy myself all week long. I know it's in my power, but it's going to require a lot of preparation to acquire that state of mind.

SO, here goes nothing.

Tonight:
laundry
clean bathroom
wash kitchen floor
take trash down to dumpsters
febreze furniture/vacuum
finish re-organizing workspace

Spring Break tasks:
-Typography IV homework (typeface ideation/sketches) + email to Chad
-Senior Thesis ideation/research + email to Zack
-Finish reworking Ecommo project (website/letterhead/business card)
-Rework 3D poster
-Rework Sweet Bee's Annual Report
-Revise Self-Identity/Research "Sharing" interface
-Ideation/Production of Voicemail Installation

-Mail Joe's package
-Purchase new book
-Clean out/back-up laptop



SO much to do.
But I'm too determined to fail.
Only a little bit longer, and I'm not going to crumble in the end.

3/2/10:: I HAVE AN IMPORTANT CATCHY SAYING THAT EXPLAINS EVERYTHING

I don't know about you, but I am absolutely SICK of seeing this kind of bullshit on design blogs, circulating around the design world. There's gotta be at least 9 million of these super stupid sayings being posted around, being called interesting works of design. Who likes this kind of trendy bullshit?

This has been going on for years in the design community. And I wish it would stop.
Every time I see one, I actually want to barf a little.

10/10/09:: Mystery

Recent events have brought some new and interesting thoughts to the fore-front of my mind.

My opinion of the design industry has been in a consistent down-spiral, you could say starting as long as a year ago, but most notably just this semester.  So how do I deal with what is truly inevitable about my future-- the need to accumulate enough money to be on my own, a design job, loan payments?  I'm not going to disregard this degree that I've suffered so long for-- even if I do think it is a complete load of miserable rubbish. So how am I going to make this work?

My answer is a simple one: mystery.

I need to retain mystery. First of all, I need to stop complaining so much. No one understands me when I complain.  No one cares when I complain. And frankly, it's not really making me feel any better either.

Second of all, if all I can think about is getting back to Edinburgh, then I need to make some decisions about what is going to happen come May. Am I going to decide to save up for a summer trip, or am I going to plan to move back for a job as soon as I graduate? My mother and I just recently (yesterday) had a really depressing argument about it. I asked for a ticket to go back over spring break as my Xmas present, and she shot me down saying that I've done enough jet-setting and now it's time to get serious. I have loan payments, and I need to use that spring break + every penny I have on finding a job for graduation.

True.

But I miss my friends.

And my friends here are rarely around, and most of the time, do not make me happy.

So, something has to happen. Not saying I have the answers yet, but this is something I'm going to start seriously dealing with... starting now.

I'm just going to do my work. I'm going to try my best to ignore the inner-pangs for a boyfriend. For fun social interaction. I'm just going to stay home. And do my work. And not complain about it. 

Sure, I'm riding a little bit on karma here. Hoping that if I just do what I'm supposed to, somehow it will work out for me. 

I'm just tired of being unhappy, and thus it is time to actually make an effort toward something that might make feel good about life again-- instead of just stewing in my own shit all the time.

5/23/9 :: Worst Day

[picture coming soon!]

Today was the worst day of my life.  Hands down.

It was my first day of work for the temp agency-- which I thought meant pushing pints at the Heineken cup with Shannon and Tom.  (The Heineken Cup is sort of liiike... The Superbowl of rugby).  I had a feeling, however, that it was too good to be true.  I was right.  Instead, Tom got put on the bar, and Shannon and I were sent off to work at Finest Cheeseburgers, a burger van on the other corner of the stadium.  It was hot, disgusting, and unsanitary-- hundreds of people crowded up for food with drunken faces.  There were no registers, so we were stuck doing all the math in our heads.  I worked 8 or 9 hours without a break-- no bathroom, no food, no cigarettes, nothing.  We even had to stay late to clean up the mingin van with some lady who I'm pretty sure had the swine flu.  I could write all day about how awful it was, but you'd never get the true picture unless you were there.

After we got off work (sometime around 9:30), Shannon and I made the long trek home... our feet swollen to the size of tanks.  We sang Disney tunes and limped the whole way back from Murrayfield.  

When I got home, I got a ring from Jack-- as it was our night to meet up.  I rushed into the shower and out to vodka rev, where I was due to meet him around midnight.  My feet were unbelievably sore, and my tights smelled like burgers, but I tried to make myself presentable.  When he finally showed up, I felt loads better.  I couldn't believe someone so beautiful was there to see me!  I finished my drink, and Jack and I headed off to Potterrow to go dancing together.

We waited in the long queue and chatted each other up.  I had lost Lindsey and Sara multiple times in the night already, so I tried to prepare myself for a night alone with Jack.  I was nervous because he was just so lovely-- I started to think maybe I had finally met someone in Europe that would last longer than a second.  When we got inside, we bought drinks and danced together.  It seemed like everything was going great-- we were kissing and talking a lot.  I could tell something was off though-- he wasn't being totally himself.  

After a bit, I suggested we step into the hall, so I could text the girls.  I wanted to find them to take some of the pressure away from Jack and me.  It was then that he dropped the bomb on me.  When we got outside the dance floor, he said, "Good, now we can talk."  We had been talking almost all night, so I knew this was no ordinary talk.  He began, "Promise not to get mad at me..."   Before he even finished his sentence, I knew what was coming-- "I have a girlfriend."  Then why text me?  Why meet up with me?  Why KISS me?  I was completely humiliated.  He made it worse by telling me he was using me to make her jealous.  I see this stuff in the teen movies all the time, but I just never expected it to happen to me.  I guess I just assume that everyone is decent, when really, I should have my guard up.  WAY up.  I was heart-broken.  I had been looking forward to this night for weeks.  

I went outside on my own and sat down on the wall.  I began frantically texting Lindsey and Sara.  I was ready to go home, and I was just trying desperately not to cry.  No answer from either of them, so I tried to catch a taxi.  My feet were swollen, and I was scared I was going to start crying-- but no taxi would drive me since I lived so close.  I walked home alone and just made it in the door before I started bawling my eyes out.  Thankfully, Josh was online to talk to me, but I'm sure I was barely making sense between the weeping and heaves.  I sent Jack a message telling him what he did was terrible, and he better not do that to anyone else.  If I could rewind time, I would've been a lot meaner.  He deserved to really be told off.  

Worst day ever.