I have been on a mission to loose weight for just over a year now. I have managed to squeeze out 50 lbs worth and not gain any during my cycles of inactivity. Part of my rigorous training includes walking laps in a local mall when the climate is unfavorable to outdoor walking. I do this quite often because there is something about seeing those skinny size zero maniquins wearing clothes that I would literally die to fit into that just motivates me like nothing else. In fact, sometimes I spend so much time ogling the window displays, listening to music, and checking out my shrinking butt in the mirrors that I fail to notice the other non-plastic, living displays that walk (or graze) amongst me.
In the mall were I live it is a very diverse crowd. And I mean diverse. Babies to elderly, every color, every ethnicity, every sexual orientation, every socio-economic class, working and non-working, trouble makers and socialites....everything.
Today as I walked the halls of this mall, I really noticed people. I noticed how seriously some of them seemed, and how apathetic others seemed, happy, lost, confused, bitter, judgemental... the works. And it made myself think about what they see when they see others. Or for that matter how do the see themselves? How close is what the perceive to the truth?
To me the mall is a mill, turning out spenders at an alarming rate. There is an addiction to living beyond your means in this country, and an addiction to putting more value into items you purchase as opposed to those in which you can not (which are far more valuable in my opinion.) These people in the mall are all there trying to fill a hole. Some crave attention, some crave employment, some crave social interaction, some crave shopping, some crave food, some crave getting away from their homes, and some crave getting out of the cold. Or in my case I crave to be the tight little body that fits in those cute little clothes. Either way ya look at it our priorities are completely screwed.
Thursday, March 24, 2011
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
When All Is Going Well, Act Like An Ass Until You Fail!
My life, well its an interesting mix of accidents, mistakes, and complete bone-head moments...well I guess no more than the others that inhabit this wonderful cess pool of greed that we all share (despite how cleverly we fool ourselves into believing otherwise.) I am not particularly special, unless I decide to feel that way... and sometimes I do force myself to believe that I am something unusual or unique cause it helps eliminate the depression that sometimes creeps up on me on cold rainy days like Jack the Ripper wearing a shirt that plainly states "I like to stab chicks!" Yeah... my mental processes are sloppy and not well thought out to put it kindly, but most of the time I am A-ok with that. The disorganization helps me recapture my fairytale delusions in record time when I need them most. And in a world where greed and instant-gratification, and political and economical distress reign supreme, I DO most certainly need that delusional little bubble as a cushion to the proverbial broken glass at my feet. What am I getting at? No seriously, I am asking... cause lately everything is so upside down it feels like I'm walking on the sky and breathing the grass!
I had a fairytale once. Well probably more than once. I am one of those lucky individuals that great things tend to fall in my lap, and for whatever reason they startle me to such an extreme I throw them away the minute I realize the weight of it. Some of my "new-agey" friends believe that this is because I am a Gemini, and some of my psychology major friends think that this is because I am "bi-polar", and some of my friends that get high think that I am bi-polar because I am a Gemini. In either scenario, I have a very difficult time pin pointing what I want in life and suffer greatly from GIG syndrome (Grass is Greener.)
About every 5 years I go through this cycle... I call it my re-shelving cycle. I discard all which is old and tattered and exchange it for that which is new and exciting, with the occasional relapse into safety land which represents an individual who I will keep nameless in this blog, but they are pretty much the only constant in my life. The best way to explain this odd and strange cycle is the song the Sheryl Crow made famous called "Run Baby Run." One of the lyrics in there has always fit me like a glove:
"Run baby run baby run baby run
Baby run
Past the arms of the familiar
And their talk of better days
To the comfort of the strangers
Slipping out before they say
so long
Baby loves to run"
I guess my point in confessing all this, is because I really want to be different. Sadly, I have no clue how. Recently I alienated someone out of my life that was very important. Sure they had a mess of issues, and I was able to justify my abrasive decision to edit them from my life based on a grocery list of logical concerns and issues that I could very well argue were destructive forces in their life and mine. But then, what am I but an unraveling ball of issues? And where did my loyalty fail to excuse such a hateful disconnect from someone that has actually been there for me quite a bit more than most have the patience to tolerate? Is it fear? Fear of eventually losing them to others, or to the lifestyle they dabble in? A preemptive detachment to save my self the grading hurt of rejection that seems to be the only other constant in my life?
What is extremely unusual about it, is I have never regretted pink-slipping people in my life, I always felt like it was the only way to move on. Not this time. This time it feels as though I have just made probably the most insanely stupid mistake I have ever made, and one I prolly will not recover from.
Perhaps at some point I will figure out where this defective personality quality came from, and learn how to combat the urge to vomit those who care about me from my life, until then I am not exactly sure how to proceed, whether I should let it be or should I make some attempt, no matter how mute, to regain that which I have tossed aside being my delusional and paranoid and often erratic and impulsive self?
I had a fairytale once. Well probably more than once. I am one of those lucky individuals that great things tend to fall in my lap, and for whatever reason they startle me to such an extreme I throw them away the minute I realize the weight of it. Some of my "new-agey" friends believe that this is because I am a Gemini, and some of my psychology major friends think that this is because I am "bi-polar", and some of my friends that get high think that I am bi-polar because I am a Gemini. In either scenario, I have a very difficult time pin pointing what I want in life and suffer greatly from GIG syndrome (Grass is Greener.)
About every 5 years I go through this cycle... I call it my re-shelving cycle. I discard all which is old and tattered and exchange it for that which is new and exciting, with the occasional relapse into safety land which represents an individual who I will keep nameless in this blog, but they are pretty much the only constant in my life. The best way to explain this odd and strange cycle is the song the Sheryl Crow made famous called "Run Baby Run." One of the lyrics in there has always fit me like a glove:
"Run baby run baby run baby run
Baby run
Past the arms of the familiar
And their talk of better days
To the comfort of the strangers
Slipping out before they say
so long
Baby loves to run"
I guess my point in confessing all this, is because I really want to be different. Sadly, I have no clue how. Recently I alienated someone out of my life that was very important. Sure they had a mess of issues, and I was able to justify my abrasive decision to edit them from my life based on a grocery list of logical concerns and issues that I could very well argue were destructive forces in their life and mine. But then, what am I but an unraveling ball of issues? And where did my loyalty fail to excuse such a hateful disconnect from someone that has actually been there for me quite a bit more than most have the patience to tolerate? Is it fear? Fear of eventually losing them to others, or to the lifestyle they dabble in? A preemptive detachment to save my self the grading hurt of rejection that seems to be the only other constant in my life?
What is extremely unusual about it, is I have never regretted pink-slipping people in my life, I always felt like it was the only way to move on. Not this time. This time it feels as though I have just made probably the most insanely stupid mistake I have ever made, and one I prolly will not recover from.
Perhaps at some point I will figure out where this defective personality quality came from, and learn how to combat the urge to vomit those who care about me from my life, until then I am not exactly sure how to proceed, whether I should let it be or should I make some attempt, no matter how mute, to regain that which I have tossed aside being my delusional and paranoid and often erratic and impulsive self?
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