Saturday, August 28, 2010

I'm Okay (I Promise)

Last time blogging, I kind of left everyone hanging with a thoughtful poem and little else accompanying it except for a cryptic "thinking..." ending at the bottom. I just want everyone to know that I'm doing just fine right now. Possibly better than fine. Well rested is the best term for it.

Meet the culprit. The new bed.



Allow me to explain my former bed situation. When I moved to the new digs in Calabasas, I uh, didn't have one. For two months to be exact. I slept on a piece of memory foam instead. On the carpeted floor with my comforters and pillows and all. For two months.

This is the moment where everybody looks at me strangely and slowly mouths, "Why?" stretching the word out super long with a look that is the perfect mix of incredulous and horrified. Why did you not have a bed for two months? Why? Why? WHY CHILD WHY??

Hey, it never bothered me. I found it to be oddly comfortable. The real reasons why I didn't buy a bed were:

1) They're expensive. Bed frame, box spring, mattress, headboard. They all add up to a very disturbingly pretty penny. There are ways of getting around the expense but my issue here is would I spend that kind of money on a bed or on new clothes? The sad thing is, generally no matter what situation I'm in, clothes win. There was a time when I was a little girl when my parents couldn't afford any dressers for my brother and I for our bedrooms or other bedroom items like end tables and whatnot. Did this stop us from still possessing the best wardrobes and plentiful shoe piles around? Nope. It appears small moments from my childhood are creeping into my adulthood. Either that, or I may have an addiction to shopping. Clothes are also easy to pack and jet out with at a moment's notice which brings me to my second reason...



2) Nomadic tendencies. Have you ever seen that movie Chocolat? There is a scene where Vianne, the main character, is standing by the river and staring off into the sky. She often remarks that the Northern wind pulls her and her daughter into certain directions and she moves when she feels the wind pull. You might as well call this my life because I feel the exact same way. Sometimes I'll be sitting and having lunch with my friends and I'll gaze up and feel trapped in my chair. It takes so much effort not to run out of the room to the airport and book a flight, somewhere, anywhere. The sheer feeling of flying, of being in motion, of a new destination is a feeling I love and treasure and try as often as possible to consistently partake in. When my Dad was my age, he lived overseas by himself in Amsterdam and Paris for awhile. He was a lot like me, drifting where he liked and being independent.
When I moved into the apartment, my parents panicked over my decision to begin purchasing furniture because it indicated I would be staying there for some time. I panicked too, but in a more quiet way. There is a part of me that craves having a safe, secure place to call home, where I can sit and read and listen to music and write. There is another part of me that fears I'm not "home" yet. I feel like my entire self is just a big jigsaw puzzle and that while I have some of the pieces, I've got so many more to put together.

Eventually though, I decided to get a bed. This bed would be bought right as my first truly adult home purchase. I would not be assembling it myself in case my crappy handiwork ended with the bed breaking apart with me sleeping in it. There would be no box spring because I really don't need that. No King or Queen size because this girl does not need all of the excessive space. Just a good twin bed that would be delivered to my place and assembled for me.

Who would make the bed of my dreams?

Pottery Barn!



This is my new bed (though not with such a huge, well-lit bedroom seen in the photo), but the bed is still mine. I dreamed of this bed for ages and as you know, I'm a big advocate in making dreams become reality. Luckily for this one, I had a wee bit of financial aid from my parents which has since rebuilt our relationship together again.

It's beyond comfy and cozy. Pretty and roomy. When it arrived last Saturday, I immediately pursued a test try nap. That nap, I told my roommate, was so good it lasted 3 hours.

This is a lie.

That nap was so good, it actually lasted 5 hours. Dayum Serta mattresses, why you gotta be so soft and spectacular like that?

Love to you all,
Heather

Friday, August 20, 2010

Dreams



Hold fast to dreams
For if dreams die
Life is a broken-winged bird
That cannot fly.
Hold fast to dreams
For when dreams go
Life is a barren field
Frozen with snow...


-Langston Hughes



I've been thinking a lot these days. Contemplating life and all that jazz.

Love to you all,
Heather

Sunday, August 15, 2010

Destination: The Suburbs



This is a late post for me since this album released on August 3rd. Apologies for it, but as with all Arcade Fire albums, I need a week of solitude with frequent listenings.

And as per usual, I fell deeply in love with it.



I've been listening to the Arcade Fire since the tail end of my senior year of high school. The first song I heard by them was Rebellion (Lies) and the change in tempo at the 1:50 mark (or the dropoff as I call it) was remarkable. I'm not the most spiritual girl in the world, but this album was truly a deep listening experience. I couldn't bear the thought of waiting to order it online, so my mom and I went on a Borders journey that was like my version of finding the Holy Grail to find the first album, Funeral. I listened to it obsessively, likewise with the second album Neon Bible. Enjoying the theatrics in songs like Black Mirror and the teary wistfulness of wanting in Crown of Love. During autumn, I used to go for walks energized with Keep the Car Running as my background song and in the winter, running through the snow with Neighborhood #1 (Tunnels) seemed perfectly placed.

They're my favorite band of all time. My music taste is prone to change without warning often, but the Arcade Fire holds too much of my heart in their music. It seems to me like Win Butler and Regine Chassagne (the husband and wife singing duo leading the seven member band) know far too often what I'm thinking and how I feel.

With the new album, The Suburbs, we literally went back to the suburbs. A place that I haven't lived in for years, but lately felt the pull in my heart to return to. Simply for the safety of it. It stays simple and quiet and safe. Of course, the safety of it all reminds me of just how bored I was there, but these days, when nothing in my life feels like it will stay still or not be unpredictable for one moment, I miss the safety of nothing occurring. I think the band understood this feeling of growing up, of losing innocence and in my case at least, desperately clinging to it in small ways.



I love the title track The Suburbs for capturing all of these feelings perfectly. It's as though they reached into my heart, dumped the contents onto a table and made music out of it. This track segued into Ready to Start, a fast paced song about being with someone versus just being alone (there are a lot of interpretations to this song, but I came away with this one.) "I would rather be wrong/Than live in the shadows of your song" is one of my favorite lines.

Rococo, a glittering gem of a song, is about culture and how we're so obsessed with appearance and fixated with getting it just right, but really losing the point in the process, if we ever understood it at all. It makes me feel like smashing everything related to pop culture and throwing it all away because in the end, what it is all about? Why can't we just be without appearing or pretending to be? It's deep, I'm telling you. Very thoughtful to say least.

Empty Room thrives in a whirling frenzied beat while Half Light II (No Celebration) brings more celebration than you'd think (I imagine it being lit with candles.) Month of May is now on my own personal life soundtrack. The entire song sounds like a race to the finish. 2009, 2010/Wanna make a record how I felt then/When we stood outside in the month of May/And watched the violent wind blow the wires away. It sounds exactly like how I wanted to be this fully published accomplished author by then, but could not due to lack of inspiration and other sidetracking items.



If you listen to one song on this album, make it Sprawl II (Mountains Beyond Mountains). Damn. This song is too powerful for words. Just the lyrics alone arrest me in the fact that they are everything I've ever heard in my head over and over, and that I know I'm not alone in this feeling. Not now, not ever.

"They heard me singing and they told me to stop,
Quit these pretentious things and just punch the clock,
These days, my life, I feel it has no purpose,
But late at night the feelings swim to the surface.
Cause on the surface the city lights shine,
They're calling at me, "come and find your kind.
"

Love to you all,
Heather

Sunday, August 8, 2010

The End of the Best Friend



The title for today's entry comes from a very interesting article in the New York Times which outlines the idea that children having one best friend is a thing of the past and that school officials are cracking down on one-on-one friendships that could possibly lead to trouble. In many ways, I'm troubled by this article because to me monitoring children's friendships in schools seems like it has some sort of Big Brother ulterior motive...but at the same time, our world is changing incredibly quickly and quite frankly, I sincerely wish somebody had monitored my friendships as a girl/teen/young adult. So I'm going to take you through this article, pulling out choice phrases and quotes and tossing in some of my own terrible friendship experiences for good measure (http://nyti.ms/bLbzzz For your reading pleasure...)



“I think it is kids’ preference to pair up and have that one best friend. As adults — teachers and counselors — we try to encourage them not to do that,” said Christine Laycob, director of counseling at Mary Institute and St. Louis Country Day School in St. Louis. “We try to talk to kids and work with them to get them to have big groups of friends and not be so possessive about friends.”

In the last few years, I've stopped referring to any of my friends as "best" because it implies that they rank higher than one another which simply can't be anymore. I prefer the term "close" or "girlfriend" (I very seldom make close guy friends, ironic given that I grew up in a male dominated environment.)
Prior to this, I had three significant "best" friends. One for middle school, one for high school, and one in college. By sheer coincidence, they all happened to be blond girls with names that began with the letter "A." This makes me sound like I have serial killer characteristics, but I promise you, it is purely coincidental. The three are significant because whether I liked it or not, they each played an important part in shaping me into the girl I am today. (With one girl for each set of schools I attended. Damn, I only sound worse with each line I write...) And also because you would think that if you make one bad friendship, you learn from your mistakes and don't do it again, but uh, I did it three times. I'm only 22 so I'm fairly certain that if it doesn't happen with girls in the future, my intimate relationships with guys will be a ridiculous roller coaster ride of their own.
Well. Let the good times roll, shall we?
The moral of the story is that big groups of friends can really be packs of truly horrible people or really great ones. Flip a coin on that one. For me in grade school, they were heinous. In college, they were my soulmates. But in no way, shape, or form did anyone in any school I ever went to did the faculty attempt to rescue me from my one-on-one friendships. I doubt I would even have listened if they tried to.



...“I don’t think it’s particularly healthy for a child to rely on one friend,” said Jay Jacobs, the camp’s director. “If something goes awry, it can be devastating.”...

Did it ever in my case. Here come my 3 ex-best friend tales. They'll be brief, concluding with "where are they now?" moments. Warning: this is about to give the Mean Girls Burn Book a run for its money.

Grade School Friend (GSF): Her mother was an incredibly dominant force in her life and she told her everything, every single detail of her day. There was literally nothing about her daughter she didn't know which made GSF the target of much teasing from the popular girls in my grade. At one point or another, both her and I craved the popular spotlight and attempted to work our way into it. I was rejected, but she was semi-accepted. Sure, they still made fun of her relentlessly, but she stuck with them which pissed me off and led to us fighting because "I was just jealous." Friendship ended in 7th grade. We have never spoken since. We aren't even Facebook friends which as you know, is the ultimate diss. A friend of mine went to high school with her where she reported that there, she was as big of a bitch as ever with the worst incident being that she LAUGHED when one of my old grade school classmates died in a car accident when we were 16 and didn't attend the wake or funeral. Ironically, this girl was in the popular girl clique. Of course, karma came around and her boyfriend cheated on her with some random girl a few months later. Golf clap for fate.

High School Friend (HSF): We were like salt 'n pepper. One didn't come without the other. Unfortunately, I did that thing I used to do where I placed too much dependency on one person and the closeness of our friendship led the way for the glorious train wreck. She started dating some guy I really hated and even went so far as to abandon me on my 17th birthday for him. When I heard that, I shouted so loudly at him in the cafeteria that I'm fairly certain that if somebody could have, they would have paddy-wagoned and straitjacketed me away. She also wrote me a really cruel email mentioning this pair of crappy pants I used to have that I really liked that she and some other girl gossiped about how terrible they were when I wore them. In addition to that, my entire fashion sense was verbally slammed in the email which in retrospect isn't bothersome because I was just exiting my goth phase. The funny thing about this email is that today, I am widely regarded as being extremely fashionable, but I seldom wear pants. This might have been the tipping point for me. Wrapping it up...our friendship ended when she transferred schools without telling me (Happy Senior Year Heather!) and these days, she's dating some guy who graduated from HS with us. Works at a casino too.

College Best Friend (CBF): You should never rely too much on a girl who plans out her entire wedding future with some guy she went out on one date with, is a bitch to your friends, and prints out Facebook chat conversations with guys with stupid lines like "if i could i would give u my world baby cause we r n luv like yeh" and tapes them to her wall in your bedroom (I dragged everyone and his uncle into our room to see that. Many people enjoyed a hearty laugh in October 2009 though most were downright disturbed when I told them this was the same guy who enjoyed killing baby rabbits for fun). But really, it all came to a head when she told me she would have abandoned me in the middle of West Hollywood on the night I got so drunk, I woke up in a wheelchair. (A story so terrible at the time but hilarious today. I would also like to point out that when it seemed like the worst moment of my life, my girlfriends made me feel much better about it, getting me orange juice and telling some stories of their own. Soulmates, I'm telling you.) These days...oh who cares?



But such an attitude worries some psychologists who fear that children will be denied the strong emotional support and security that comes with intimate friendships.
“Do we want to encourage kids to have all sorts of superficial relationships? Is that how we really want to rear our children?” asked Brett Laursen, a psychology professor at Florida Atlantic University whose specialty is peer relationships. “Imagine the implication for romantic relationships. We want children to get good at leading close relationships, not superficial ones.”


Nay, I say, nay. I mean that at the whole "denying kids of emotional support in intimate relationships."
The intimate friendships and closeness I had with the three girls mentioned above was not for my benefit whatsoever. The last two in particular referred to what we had as "the friendship." Brought up in conversations beginning with "yeah, I don't think the friendship is working."
As though I should be so lucky, so privileged to be with them. These kinds of remarks only made me infuriated and ready to burn the bridges fast. Attitude like this never fails to make me want to grip them by the side of their face and bring them back down to earth.
Intimate friendships, depending on the types of people you have them with, can be very good or awful. These days I have very good ones with a bunch of different girls because I learned to be myself and stay myself. There was a time when I used to be scared of what to say, what sorts of jokes to make. The time when I tiptoed around girls who were supposedly "my BFFs." Security, what security came with this? Emotional growth? I learned to monitor who I was and that can't be healthy.
So I quit. I woke up one morning and didn't care anymore. I made better, kinder friends this way. As for my relationships with guys, this was and still is fairly superficial, but this is a really long story for another time...

Many psychologists believe that close childhood friendships not only increase a child’s self-esteem and confidence, but also help children develop the skills for healthy adult relationships — everything from empathy, the ability to listen and console, to the process of arguing and making up.

In the case of those three girls, those friendships only taught me how to pretend how to care and fake sympathy when in reality, I was so detached from their issues, I wasn't even thinking about them and was altogether somewhere else. That's healthy ain't it? Thank goodness for the girls who came into my life before/during/after these three.

It sounds bad, I know. I'm getting depressed just writing this because I've sort of repressed these memories for some time. I did grow from the experiences, believe me, but it was a slow growth that at some points made me almost scream at myself in the mirror, "Why? Why do you keep doing this to yourself?" If adults had attempted to intervene, well, they would never have. I was quite the picture of wholesome innocence for a very long time and did a damn good job of putting on a show of how sugar and spice and everything nice I could make things appear. It was only when I would write, that I let my feelings out onto the surface and with those three, I wrote pieces that sounded extremely unhappy. It was and still remains the best way to express my feelings. The simple act of penning words or typing them releases me in the only possible way I can be.



“No one can teach you what a great friend is, what a fair-weather friend is, what a treacherous and betraying friend is except to have a great friend, a fair-weather friend or a treacherous and betraying friend,” said Michael Thompson, a psychologist who is an author of the book “Best Friends, Worst Enemies: Understanding the Social Lives of Children.”

No they can't. The adage, experience is the teacher is the best way to go. You're in for a rough, rocky ride with good moments and bad moments, but in the end I think only you can make this discovery on your own.

Trust me. You'll always make it out to the better side.
And only the most wonderful people are there, waiting for you.

Love to you all,
Heather

Sunday, August 1, 2010

Refueling the Empty



My first full week of work is over! From the way that I'm acting, you'd think I'd never worked a 40 hour work week in my life. Which of course is not the case for me but the last two years have coddled me severely with the bliss that is part time work and internships and the last two months of unemployment have left me believing it's perfectly fine to stay until 2am every morning and wake up fresh as a daisy, at 10am.

My new job requires I wake up at 5:30 in the morning. It is an ungodly but manageable hour to work with. I get up this early to fix my hair, makeup, and dress for the day. If there is still time, I'll eat breakfast but not often. At 6:30, I leave and walk up to the bus stop with my iPod and I sharing the morning together.



I've said it once and I'll say it again: I'm going to try to never buy a car in my lifetime. It's an expense I do not want to tack on my list and since day one, I've literally shown zero interest in driving. I like walking and seeing the world around me. I also enjoy public transportation. In LA, it's a lost art. Everyone sits in their cube with wheels and that becomes their world. Cuts you off from communicating with others in so many ways.

Work is fine. I write courtesy descriptions for companies about the products in a very specific fashion that steers clear of using names or phone numbers. You would think doing this would be quick and simple, but it eats away at time. You stay busy, but it does require some interest in this line of work. If you don't like copywriting, you will walk out after a day (according to stories from everyone I work with).



There are some issues I'm taking with this job though. Mostly they fall in the holiday day-off policy. Because the owners are Jewish, we don't get very many days off. I don't even get Christmas Eve off! Which means I'll be spending Christmas in my apartment this winter...not terrible, but not exactly what I had in mind. Then the other issues are just expectations I've had that weren't fulfilled like the lack of artwork on the walls and silly things like that. This is an entry-level position though. It's not like I'll be doing it for years. Takes small steps to climb up the ladder to my ultimate goal: high rise building with a large office filled with tons of windows, ornamental decor on the walls and a nonstop great playlist of music rolling throughout the day.

I get off from work at 5pm and generally arrive home at 6:30pm. Dead tired. And I sit at a desk all day! I believe my crappy sleeping habits are highly to blame for this because there is no other culprit. So I've begun taking steps to prevent this. I try, try, try to be asleep by 11pm at the latest. I failed at this twice in the last week, once from blogging too late and the other time because Project Runway's new season started and I was incredibly unaware of this fact but alerted to it within 15 minutes of the show starting.

Tonight is my typical Sunday night with True Blood and Mad Men back to back. So 11pm it is for me again! Just trying to stay consistent with my sleep patterns while still you know, living :)



Sorry for the blahness of this post. I'm becoming an old person who needs to get 8 hours of sleep. It sucks. If I start sleeping with my hair in rollers and complaining about the noise downstairs, um, I might need an intervention or something.

Love to you all,
Heather