I’m not the jealous type, but I do get jealous. When I think of “jealous type,” I’m thinking of what someone calls someone in a relationship when that someone seems to get jealous over every person of the opposite sex who approaches, talks, touches or whatever their SO, even if this interaction really meant nothing (assuming that we’re talking about a straight couple here, but the same principle applies for all couples). Basically, a person who is easily rattled, especially when it involves their person of interest. Yeah, I’m not the jealous type. But of course I have my moments when I’m jealous. The thing is, I think when I’m jealous, it’s a reflection of my insecurities. Oh, she’s so much prettier than me, I’ll think. I think that’s my first insecurity because I tend to think I’m smart enough, funny enough and maybe even intellectual enough albeit I understand I still have a lot to learn, just not good enough looks-wise. Looks is where I feel I lack. It’s not that I think I’m ugly. I just think compared to some other girls, I’m not put-together enough. So I’ll have this jealous thought and then move on. I won’t obsess over it. I know I’m born with what I’m born with and I can’t change that, so why mope about it? Be happy with what I got. I’m just saying I have insecurities just like everybody else. But I’m not the jealous type.
All of these thoughts, flirtations, glances and cracks at funnies are fifty times more intense when you’re in the room. I just want to know if you’re feeling what I’m feeling. I’m not OK. But I wish I could just act normal. Or at least, myself. Can you help me do that?
I may be getting older, but I still see the appeal of a dance party (yes, this includes clubs). It’s that feeling of freedom, especially if you’re in college and out clubbing with friends. You’re letting go by dancing like a crazy person and letting this craziness go on for as long as you feel like it. But generally, by the next morning is a good time for the party to end. Any longer than that and the party has no effect on you, on what it was supposed to accomplish for you.
A dance party is supposed to make you feel so good about yourself that you let go and forget all about every single problem that may be irking you at the moment in your life. (I don’t know where I’m going with this.) And I mean, you completely forget. It’s like problems don’t exist and you’re just having a good time in good company. Chasing a temporary high.
As we age, our bodies may not be able to function in the same way once as when we were young, but that doesn’t mean we stop chasing after that temporary high. We need it, we crave it like a robin craves a big, fat succulent worm. That’s never going to change.
There’s nothing wrong with partying or clubbing. If you need it, you need it. But it’s important to be responsible while doing so and know your limits like a calculus problem. And if partying is not your thing, find a different temporary high. Just don’t chase after it.
Dearest Blog, hello! I’ve neglected you for a few days and for that I am sorry. But not to you. I am sorry that I haven’t taken advantage of our writing time together. This is precious time. If I stare at all the functions long enough, words form a post of some sort. At least, in theory that’s how it works.
Over the weekend I was blessed with time to spend with the ‘rents. My mom and I went to this sushi place (our usual) and all these old songs (mostly Asian, duh) came on. A flood of college memories came back because just about all of them I heard for the first time in college. It’s funny–a couple of the songs were introduced to me by people who I wouldn’t exactly call kindred spirits if you know what I mean. Yet, we always appreciate someone introducing a good song to us. It’s like, if they weren’t good friends to us, at least the one thing they did well was let me know that song.
For the first time when I went home I didn’t bring home any work from work (ha!). I focused on hanging out, learning a recipe from beginning (starting with digging up Chinese chive from the garden) to end and eating American food even though we had thought we were going to an all-you-can-eat crab legs buffet. It’s amazing how much the quality of your weekend improves when you let go and enjoy.
So I’m just going to start with yesterday I was having an emo day (not the kind where black is my favorite color) and I ended up wanting to avoid most people. Talking to a good friend made it better though, so I can’t say I wanted to avoid everybody.
Aren’t emo days funny like that? The kind where you feel all knotty in your stomach and feel like doing anything other than what you’re supposed to be doing. You really don’t feel like talking to anybody, but somehow having a good friend who knows you well comfort you with soothing words is appealing. We all need to be babied or mothered from time to time.
I’m exhausted. “For a long time, I loved who I wanted to be more than I loved myself.” Lena Chen said that. She has no idea how much that resonates with me. I am tired because I’ve accepted my crazy faze-worthy schedule as valid and doing nothing to change it, partly because of being tired. And then partly because I don’t know if what I ultimately choose to change about my schedule is the right thing or not or what that even means.
I am an overanalyzer. That can be good when you need to be accurate, but that can be bad when you need to make a decision. I need to make a decision right now, but I’m overanalyzing because I am an overanalyzer.
But back to the quote. I have this idea in my head of ideally how I want my life to be and what dream I want to realize. I love it so much I daydream about it all the time (when I’m not thinking about eating, of course). But because I have been spending so much time daydreaming about it, I have neglected to take care of myself in some areas. Thus, not really loving myself. I’ve not loved myself in that I believe I have many character flaws that need fixing, but I have done nothing to fix them due to my daydreaming about who I want to be.
Lena Chen hasn’t posted anything since then, and I really hope she does.
I feel like saying that to every guy who’s ever rejected me. That’s what I immediately think. And what I mean by that (I know you’re not a mind-reader) is the guy rejects the idea of us being together for whatever faults, shortcomings and vices I may have, but what he doesn’t realize is while he deemed me unworthy, that doesn’t mean someone else will. It doesn’t mean I will never be with someone. Oh I will. So just because it’s not you doesn’t mean I’m going to end up alone. Hence, if it’s not you, it’s gonna be someone else.
But then I thought and thought (a dangerous thing for me to do sometimes) and came up with something else for this phrase. What if that ‘you’ was directed at ‘me’? So, flip the finger and point it at myself. So then the phrase could apply to a job position, for example. If I went in somewhere and interviewed for a position and didn’t get picked, there’s always going to be someone else who fills the position, right? Just because I am unable to do the job doesn’t mean no one is able to do the job. Someone’s going to do it. That’s why the position was created in the first place and suddenly there’s an opening.
Which leads me to another bright conclusion: nothing is impossible! That’s right. Nothing is impossible folks because if you can’t solve it, the solution is still out there and someone’s going to find it. Maybe you won’t be alive when this miraculous epiphany occurs, but it will happen. One way or another, Blondie’s going to getcha.
And if it’s not you, it’s gonna be someone else.