August 16, 2008

Me vs. Me

February 2, 2008

I feel as though I am always at odds with no one other than myself. Maybe the root of this is the relentless idea that I have no idea what I want, but regardless, I’m constantly feeling this way. The consistent argument seems to be time vs. want—pretty sure that’s just about accurate. I’m always afraid that what I (seem to) want is to be by myself. I am perfectly content when I am alone (not physically necessarily). But my fear is that at this time in my life I should be building something with someone. I should be forcing myself to be comfortable with the idea of being with someone so that I won’t be alone when I’m old(er).

Simultaneously I am infuriated with myself for thinking of my life in such minuscule terms. As a fabulous friend of mine once said to me, “There is more to (you) than all of these guys. There is so much more to you than this.”

I need to remember that and stop stressing about this somewhat insignificant portion of my life. There is so much more that I need to work on. I am 27 years old. I am 27 years old and I live in a one-bedroom apartment. It’s difficult for me to make ends meet each month. I am thankful that I can pay all of my bills by myself and that I live in this one bedroom apartment by myself. I am in some ways proud of myself, I truly am. But I feel like I should be doing more by now. I would feel better if I were in a town home by myself while struggling to make ends meet each month. I would feel better if I were making more money, (but who am I kidding, everyone says that). But lets be serious…I have $50 to hold me over for the next two weeks. That’s after paying my rent and water bill, putting enough gas in my car for one week of driving to and from work, and since I’m being honest here, then I should probably admit to a couple of unnecessary, borderline irresponsible purchases as well. Oy vey.

  1. I won an amazing pair of vintage boots on eBay. Let me please note that this was not in any way some random, impulse purchase. Tall camel/tan leather boots have been on my list of “wants” (literally, there is a running list in the mini notebook I keep in my purse) since the fall season began. I have constantly been on the hunt and incessantly, to no avail. Price is usually what vetoes the purchase; as in too high. But after a random search on eBay for tall tan boots I found a perfect pair of vintage boots being auctioned off—perfect in that they encompassed all I was coveting. The auction ended that night and the price was only at $16.99. I refrained from bidding but instead opting for simply “watching.” After a couple hours the price was at about $20, give or take. So I figured, oh, what the hell I’ll make a bid. So I bid and bid until I was the winning bidder, (eBay is addicting like that isn't it? Once you make the decision to bid you keep going until you win). Once I was the winning bidder at just $25.10, I stopped and vowed to not bid again. I will go no higher. I didn’t even enter a maximum bid so I assumed for sure that in the throws of the last minutes of the auction that the ten bidders prior to me would dominate. I thought for a moment about setting up a text message alert but then refrained after finding out how complicated it all seemed. Besides, I wasn’t going to outbid anyone, what was the point. Just as I’d hoped I forgot completely about the auction. Until all of a sudden I was lying in bed about to go to sleep and I remembered. I sprung from bed for my laptop, hopped back in bed, and started it up. Low and behold, I won! For just $25.10 plus $10 in shipping. Wow, really? No one out bid me. Joy! Then sorrow. Shit, I actually have to buy them now. Okay, so $36 of unforeseen costs, done. And hey, that was an amazing deal. I took comfort in scratching a high ticket “want” from my list and spending so little while doing so.
  1. I agreed to go over to the mall during lunch with a coworker because, well, I just can’t resist an opportunity to go to the mall. If you ask, I'm going. Just to browse of course, duh. Even if I’m not the one shopping I enjoy all that has to do with shopping; the only requirement being that items are being looked at, tried on, and purchased—not necessarily by me. I vowed to window shop. I’d just bought boots! But one trip to the Gap sale rack and all caution was thrown to the wind. How taunting are those sale racks? Ugh. But seriously, I picked up an incredible sweater for just $9.97. A thick, cable knit long sweater complete with pockets that had started at $68. This purchase was, in every sense of the word, a steal. Except I paid for it. But just $10. And okay, one more thing. This utterly adorable red short sleeve shirt with feminine ruffles for just $8.97. It will be perfect for the Blue Man Group show I am going to on February 15th—red for Valentine’s Day. Plus, it’s short sleeve and lightweight so I’ll be wearing it in the spring and summer as well. Longevity—perfect.

So with a grand total of just $21, for two substantial items and $36 for the fulfillment of an incredible want, how could I feel guilty? Whelp, easily once I realized that with these incredible deals I had spent a total of about $60 and had left myself with just $50 for the next two weeks. Yep, I have $50 for gas, food (for myself and my pets) and any other needs that may pop up, i.e. I’m just about out of coffee, creamer, bread, and milk (all essentials). All because I spent $60 on things I did not “need” rather than $60 on groceries or nights out with the ladies for the next two weeks. Tiny sacrifices.

On another completely opposing note, my ex and by ex I mean The Ex—I am cognizant of the fact that considering my habit in keeping exes around, a distinction is required—shit, I’m going out with my most recent ex tonight!

Wait, I feel the need to backtrack for a second for I have just had a revelation – imagine that. Is it odd that I consider The Ex my one and only ex? I have technically had two boyfriends since the ex, yet I consider him to be my one true ex. Guess that’s a little key as to how I subconsciously feel about my past two relationships—they might as well not have existed. Hmm…can’t imagine why they didn’t end in complete and utter bliss.

Back to the ex, he wants to take me out for Valentine’s Day. He has been trying to convince me that this is a good idea for the past week and a half. I consistently have outwardly disagreed. Until today when after hundreds (okay at least 10) rebuffs, I am sitting here considering it—guess that’s pretty typical in it self. As much as I realize this tidbit about myself, I’d be willing to bet that he recognizes it as well—hence the persistence on his part. Oy, all I can say is oy vey…oh, and also that I will most certainly not be sharing this recent development with anyone. No one. Not him, not a friend not a family member. No one. And also, I’ll be hoping that it disappears entirely before I ever need to vocalize it.


by: Rihanna

“Baby, baby when we first met I never felt something so strong. You were like my lover and my best friend all wrapped into one with a ribbon on it. And all of a sudden you went and left; I didn’t know how to follow. It’s like a shock that spun me around and now my heart’s dead. I feel so empty and hollow.

And I’ll never give myself to another the way I gave it to you. Don’t’ even recognize the way you hurt me, do you? It’s gonna take a miracle to bring me back and you’re the one to blame. And now I feel like, oh…

You’re the reason why I’m thinking I don’t want to smoke on these cigarettes no more. I guess that’s what I get for wishful thinking. I should’ve never let you enter my door. Next time you wanna go on leave, I should just let you go on and do it. Cause now I’m using like I bleed. Its like I checked into rehab and baby you’re my disease. I gotta check into rehab cause baby you’re my disease.

Damn, and it crazy when you’re love sick? You’d do anything for the one you love. ‘Cause anytime that you needed me I’d be there. It’s like you were my favorite drug. The only problem is that you were using me in a different way that I was using you. Now that I know its not meant to be you gotta go I gotta wean myself off of you.

And I’ll never give myself to another the way I gave it to you. Don’t even recognize the ways you’ve hurt me, do you? Its gonna take a miracle to bring me back and you’re the one to blame. Cause now I feel like oh, you’re the reason why I’m thinking I don’t wanna smoke on these cigarettes not more. I guess that’s what I get for wishful thinking. I should’ve never let you into my door. Next time you wanna go on and leave I should just let you go on and do it. Cause now I’m using like I bleed. Its like I checked into rehab and baby you’re my disease. I gotta check into rehab cause baby you’re my disease.”

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