A quick comment... on comments

Australia's Surfing Life has been kind enough to indulge my little writing fantasy by posting a few of my articles on their website. You may notice a little hiccup in the comment section where I seem to have disappointed one of my fans. She might not consider herself a 'fan' per se but as a writer I can take the occasional creative liberty. She left the following comment:

If you want to surf with your girlfriend, then get a girlfriend who HAS A SCRAP OF SELF RESPECT AND CONFIDENCE! Not someone who compares her learning curve to a retarded dog. Because girls LOVE surfing. Like me! And lots and lots of other women! (Not just lesbians either!!) Self-confident women love having adventures, especially outdoors.

Wanna surf with your girlfriend? Don't date an insecure little pansy.

Hey Surfing Life Magazine!!!: Please offer paid employment, income, and professional acknowledgement to ACTUAL WOMEN SURFERS who are great writers and experts at their craft! There's a lot of us out there, not just wannabe princesses...

Rather than wasting the time of ASL readers by responding on their website, I have saved my response for this blog (alright so I was told I would seem cooler if I just let it go)... so I'm letting go... by saying this:

Dear Evin,

I couldn’t help but notice that you seem quite upset. Seeing as we seemed to have started a friendly online correspondence I was hoping I could impose a few thoughts upon you…

Surly as a woman of great confidence and, if I may, a woman of the highest composure, you are aware that one need not draw attention to her confidence and self respect because it would be too obvious to do so. I find it much more subtle of a tactic to sleep with as many people as possible until you fill the deep void burning inside you.

As a one-time-bi-curious-when-drunk-abroad female myself, who am I to insult the lesbian population? I was merely pointing out that the homosexual female community tends to have a strong affinity to the outdoors- and they're typically well equipped for any adventure. You seem to identify yourself as a straight woman. To that I say, don't knock it 'til you've tried it, sister. 

And I’m not sure what fuels your aversion to golden retrievers, but I assure you that my dog Goldy was a canine of staggering intelligence and not ‘retarded’ as you have suggested. Admittedly, he did have a fondness for his own feces and he ate his leg until it was raw, but which one of us is perfect at the end of the day?

Xoxo

Surfer's Girlfriend

Reality Check

Recently my fiance and I thought it would be fun to spend the evening brainstorming our impending 2013 trip to Indonesia and Australia... we had good wine, good conversation, and even better weed (Dad/future employer, if you're reading this I'm just kidding about the weed thing... and I'm also kidding about leaving indefinitely in 2013. I'm definitely 100% committed to whatever my future job may be). We were feeling loose and giddy with the excitement one can only feel when they talk about embarking on an incredible adventure when it happened. We found it, our dream home in Australia. We plan to rent an apartment when we're in Australia so we can have a home base and plenty of visitors. Take a look and tell me if your panties are still dry at the end of the photo tour (Dad, come to think of it, you really shouldn't be reading this)...

God, I love me some earthy woods. We fell hard and fast. This is our dream. A cute bungalow in Byron Bay, are you kidding me?! So we looked into the pricing... $500/week.... let's call that $2,000/month. So being the fancy college graduates that we are, we came up with a projected amount we can anticipate spending monthly. With all the new foods, new bars, new excitement, we estimate spending $4,000/month. If you'll recall, our total goal for the trip is $20,000. Meaning we could only last 5 months   NOT including airfare and the fact that we don't want to blow through all of our savings so we can, you know, get home, and survive and stuff. So... shit!

Reality has a cruel way of ruining a perfectly good plan.

But don't fret. Luckily we have backup plans to earn more money. First of all, we're getting married next year. Rather than register for teapots and dandelions, we plan to gently exploit all of our family and friends into giving us cold, hard cash. Secondly, I suppose I could technically get a job. Ugh, as in business casual attire, casual Fridays (if you're lucky), timed lunches, forced enthusiasm, cubicles, jammed up photo copiers, and overall feigned merriment. I will, of course, have to lie on my resume and say that I've been working this entire year. I think I just threw up a little.

At the end of the day, it's all worth it. I'm so grateful for my 10 months of unemployment and I'm ready to start kicking some corporate ass all in the name of quitting after a year. Except I have no idea where to start. Anyone hiring? I have a very strong resume... 

Hipsters

I’m currently at this hippest hipster coffee joint in the nation- Intelligentsia in Venice, CA. I’m here because I’m a famous writer now and I wanted everyone to see how cool I am. So I took my (not mine at all- my fiance’s) MacBook and walked two blocks to see and, most importantly, be seen.

One of my all time favorites hobbies is to eavesdrop. It’s not the classiest of hobbies, but man does it get me off. I also like to look into peoples’ houses at night just to see what they’re up to. People fascinate me. We’re all so weird and just want to be loved at the end of the day (too sentimental?).

There are two people a few feet away from me who are fo sho on a first date. Does no one here have a job by the way? Are we all on unemployment nannying for cash on the side trying to get published as a writer? Why are you guys on a date at 2pm on a Thursday at a coffee shop? I absolutely require alcohol for any sort of date. That’s soooo hipster to keep the party dry. Girlfriend has some ambiguous tattoos on the back of her right arm and on her right forearm. He’s wearing a fedora, is unshaven, and has curly hair. Match made in hipster heaven. I have high hopes for these two. I just heard her say, “I love artistic freedom.” Yeah, we know sweet heart.  Still, I like these two.

I’m not even going to comment on this guy in the pink hat and bejeweled belt (yes, guy). He speaks for himself. Love it:

I’m officially so out of place. Though I must admit I’ve received many approving glances. I think it’s because of the MacBook and the fact that I’m not wearing make up. We’re all so raw. But seriously, I’m not coming back here for a while. I can’t get the wifi to work even though everyone else seems to be getting online just fine (I’m writing in a word doc right now) and …. Nerd alert… the music is way too loud. I guess I’ll never be a hipster. 

Goals

I really don't have anything in mind to write about today, I just feel the need to post something. If I post something then I feel better about my day. I feel better about my future. I just feel better. Besides, if I don't post anything then the most productive thing I will have accomplished today is plucking a black hair from my chest. Yes, I found a black hair on my chest. I'm blonde, 26, and up until this point I was under the impression that I was female. But I still found a black hair on my chest. And I have to live with that. Now so do you. Sorry. So here I am posting- starting to feel better already.

I want to be one of those people who sets their minds to something and then they actually do it. I've been like that with a lot of things in my life. I wanted to go to college in LA, I made it happen. And for an authentic Mid-westerner that's no small feat. Then, I decided it was imperative that I spend 6 months in Paris, you know, to learn French. After college, It was London for 6 months. After that, I wanted to work in the art industry. I made these things happen. These are literal dreams that I made true. I thought of them in my head and then I DID it. Why does that seem like such a distant concept? Is it because I have been raped by reality? I honestly feel molested and frail and ashamed. I want to curl up in a ball in bed and eat 2 everything bagels toasted with vegetable cream cheese while watching The Simpsons. I realllly want to do that. But I did that on Friday. You can't do that on Friday and then again on Monday. You just can't.

So today, Monday, is one of those days where I say to myself "I'm going to accomplish something- I'm going to make active steps towards my goals." Of course it helps to have clear goals. Mine are kind of murky, confused versions of goals. But I'm taking steps towards them (I think). Today I went for a jog on the beach- 26 minutes without stopping. I think that adds up to 5.7 miles. That was an active step towards my goal of wanting to become completely emaciated. Then I nannied for 2 hours and when I got home I put away that pile of clothes that somehow became a damp mountain of 'clean' clothes mixed with some not-so-clean clothes. Now I'm posting. This is an active step towards wanting to write. Technically, I have achieved that goal because I am writing. So I guess this is what success looks like? I thought it would feel slightly different. Oh well. Who am I to argue with logic? I think I know just how to celebrate. Maybe I'll get extra cream cheese this time...

JELLY BEAN

I just finished watching the Glee Project. Ahh-mayy-zing. I loved every second of it. Did I sob like a pup torn from his mother's teat? None of your business. I loved both of the winners and couldn't decide who I wanted to win more. So exciting. The only thing is I noticed a strange and inappropriate reaction to the season finale of the show.... I was raging jealous the entire time. I'm talking like knot-in-my-stomach-heart-pounding jealousy. As if they were somehow my competition??? It makes no sense. But, as my therapist says, you can't control how you feel. But it made me realize- this isn't the first time I've experienced irrational jealousy. Lately, in fact, it's been happening a lot.

Here is a list of things/people/situations that make me green with envy:

1. Katy Perry. Weird, right? She's just so fucking successful and her songs are so catchy. What a bitch. Now, why I can't simply just enjoy her catchy summery tunes- I don't know. I don't understand it. 
2. My boyfriend. For multiple reasons. A, he weighs less than I do. B, the whole penis thing. I definitely have penis envy. It's just SO much easier. I pee all the time and it's a huge hassle not to mention waste of toilet paper (I'm actually serious). C- the head nod thing. He just gets so much more respect from grown ups than I do and I'm totally jealous. 
3. Louis CK. Love him, but jealous of him. Maybe I'm only jealous of people I really love? Maybe Katy Perry, my boyfriend, and Louis CK and I are all meant to be one big happy family? I'm jealous of him because he's a total dud, the poor guy, but he's made it. Do you have any idea how hard it is to make it as a comedian? He did it. He found the one thing that he's better at than other people, and he's made himself successful. That makes me crazy. I'm so fucking jealous. I don't know what it is that I can do better than other people. And even if I DID know, how do I make money from it? I want to write, as I've mentioned, but I'm wildly inexperienced and I have no idea how to make money writing. 
4. Drew Carey. I'm from Ohio, I LOVE the Price is Right, But who gets to stand up there hosting every day, hm? who? not me that's for damn sure. 
5. Whoever married Taylor Hanson. 
6. Anyone who can sing well- especially anyone who has performed on Broadway.
7. Basically anyone who has achieved success of any kind. 

Chad

Home sweet home- I just arrived back home to LA after visiting my Dad in San Diego for a few days.  I've been dreading our visit because my dad has a fun habit of 'working me over' a.k.a calling me out on any/all of my failures over the past 26 years. But I have to say, he was on his best behavior. He was very supportive of my desire to pursue a vocation that I'm passionate about, which, frankly- shocked the hell out of me. We had a good time, and I'm lucky to have him (tear). 

At lunch today, my dad and I encountered a little tart. His name is Chad, and he was our waiter.  It turns out that Chad is a recent graduate from USD and he's working as a waiter 'while he figures out what he wants to do with his life'... definitely something I can relate to. I've spent plenty of time waiting tables and I'm (as you may have noticed) still trying to figure out what I want to do with my life. Then Chad said something truly profound, "I'm pretty sure that I am going to take some time to travel for a while before I do anything." I fell in love right then and there. With his idea, I mean. Traveling to London after I graduated college was the best decision I could have made for myself at the time. After inquiring a bit further it turns out that Chad wants to live 6 months in Portugal- to further improve the Portuguese he learned while studying abroad in Brazil. From the depths of my soul I find myself hoping that Chad does, in fact, follow through with this dream. I can sleep better at night knowing that people are out there transforming their lofty ideas into reality. The truth is, picking up and traveling can be scary- especially when you don't have a plan. There are always a million reasons not to do something and you can reason your way out of doing pretty much anything exciting or at all risky. I love hearing stories or meeting people who defy all of that and just go for it. I gave the hostess $20 to give to him after I left and to tell him to go for it. I would have given more, but I'm unemployed (as you may have noticed). Hopefully he'll view it as a sign to not pussy out. 

Chad, do you by any chance read my blog? For these purposes I'm going to assume that you do. Good. First of all, thank you for reading. Secondly, I hope you got the $20 I left for you and the hostess didn't snake me out of my drinking money. Thirdly, I realize that $20 isn't much, but I hope you take it as a sign to follow your dream. It's really important to me to know that people like you exist in this world. If I can be honest with you- and I feel that I can- I've met a lot of pansies lately and I'm starting to lose faith. You don't seem like a pansy though.  I mean, you're on the skinny side, but you definitely seem to know what you want. I respect that. Just please promise me you won't give into the pressure to get a job right away and you'll find a way to pursue your dream. If I come back in a few months and ask about you only to find out you're working at some bullshit insurance company I will freak out. I may even come to your office. I know you don't know me and I may be coming on a bit strong, but I think you have many beautiful gifts to share with the world. Don't dim your light under the florescent glare of corporate America. Be brave and beautiful. 

Sex Sells

As I've mentioned, writing  is my current professional and creative pursuit. When I'm not acting as Mary Poppins or watching the Glee Project on Hulu I'm putting all my efforts into writing. I love this blog. Meaning I love writing on this blog. It's my very own public-diary-stream-of-consciousness outlet. It helped to keep me from throwing myself in front of a bus on numerous occasions- like when we would get countless reprimanding memos about God-knows-what, or told I was to be making cold calls all day. Now that I'm unemployed, this blog (believe it or not) gives me some kind of purpose. If I am able to at least make a post I know I will have reached 3's of people. I know what Mother Theresa and Ghandi were all about. I get it.

But wouldn't it be nice if my blog could reach TENs of people!? I mean a girl can dream, right? And guess what? I have a PLAN on how to do this. And, dare I say it? A fucking good plan. My roommate (also known as, depending on how things are going that day, my fiance) also has a blog. I think it's about... well no one really knows what it's about. But if you look through his blog, you'll see the occasional naked lady. Those posts always get 10 times the amount of hits that his other posts get (the other posts being ones with actual content). So, do you see where this is headed?! I think you do. Come with me on this journey to fame and money. 

Here it goes: 

Case of the Tuesdays :(

I've realized that most of my recent posts have been about the ups and downs of unemployment. Which, makes sense, seeing as I am technically unemployed. But the last thing I want to do is alienate my employed fans (that's right- fans). After all, those behind the cubicle walls of doom, those who have to sneak a peak at their favorite websites while trying not to get caught, who have their email accounts blocked at work, who have 30 minute lunches and 45 minute commutes, YOU are the ones who really need some comic relief. Unfortunately, I won't be able to provide that.

What I can do, however, is offer you some personally perfected tips on how to waste time in the work place. While some may think of it as laziness, I happen to view it as survival. Today is Tuesday, arguably the worst day of the week. It's only slightly worse that Mondays because you aren't sandwiched in by the weekend like Mondays. And on Tuesday, you still have Wednesday, Thursday, AND Friday to get through. You poor souls. Don't worry, I'm here. Think of me as your guardian... blogger? Think of me as whatever you want, but I prefer something with an edgy vibe like 'Escape Artist'... none of this angel business.

Here are my top ways to SURVIVE in the workplace:

• An obvious one, but take as many trips to the bathroom as humanly possible. Drink tons of coffee, water, tea whatever (especially if you happen to get this stuff for free at work) so you have to go to the bathroom every 30 minutes (I happen to have an abnormally tiny bladder- if you can hold your urine better than a 93 year-old man, first of all- congrats to you, secondly drink even more liquids). If you have the option to go to a bathroom further away, great! More time away from the desk. Walk slowly, talk with people in the hallway. This will not only get you a much needed break, but certainly increase your popularity around the office. 
• I used to download books for free online, copy and paste them into a word document so it looked more work-related, then go to town. This is my personal favorite. You won't find many current books for free online, but tons of classics. By far the best discovery was Stephenie Meyer's (author of the Twilight series... no judgement please) Midnight Sun. It's Edward's account of the first novel- only partially completed, but it's hundreds of pages of cheap thrills. Enjoy. 
• Leave 5 minutes early for lunch, come back 5 minutes late. You deserve this 10 minutes. Though, not a great idea for those who have to punch a clock (sorry! ).  You guys should drink even more and go to the bathroom every 25 minutes.
• Start a blog (HELLO!) about the horrible atrocities you suffer daily. Even if google analytics says that you only get 10 hits to your page a day with a high bounce rate, who cares?? It's the only way I didn't throw myself out the window everyday. Oh and if you use blogspot and minimize the page, it almost looks like you're tying an email. 
• http://thebitchywaiter.blogspot.com/  
• And, (do I really need to say this??) don't use all your sick days when you're actually sick!! I mean if you have a low fever and sniffles, you may as well go to work anyway. Save your sick days for the days you fear you may murder a co-worker or a heinously annoying client. Your sick days are survival days.  Treat them like gold. 

Any other tips I didn't think of?????!

Cray Cray

Although I hate to admit it, I have reason to believe that I have become 'that girl.' 

Allow me to explain... As I've mentioned in other posts, one of the biggest perks of being unemployed (while still having health insurance-- something I'm very grateful for) is that I have ample time to get anything/everything checked out. Wake up with a new mole? Get your ass to a dermatologist- no problem. Your sugar addiction for the past 25 years caused an aggressive cavity that makes your eyes tear up in pain? You can go to the dentist the same day. When you are working 40+ hours a week it can be a total nightmare to try to schedule these types of appointments. Such is no longer the case for me. In fact, I may or may not have gone a bit overboard. I leaf through our health insurance packet as if it were a menu at my favorite restaurant and I know someone else is picking up the tab. Ohhh I can get up to $1000 in acupuncture?? Did you know facials can technically be considered a dermatological procedure?! I'm pretty sure they cover the lap band- and I would be lying if I told you I haven't at least toyed with the idea of gaining 120 lbs then making an awesome come back by losing 130 lbs. I have it all planned out... 

So when I found out that my health insurance covers UNLIMITED psychiatric appointments I was all over that like white on rice.  I found myself a bougie, gay (?), part-time therapist, part-time yoga instructor in Brentwood and I've been in heaven ever since. In all honesty, of all the various doctors that I've been spoiling myself with, this one is definitely a necessity. I won't say that I'm bat shit crazy... maybe just bird poop crazy. My symptoms include (but are not limited to) crippling anxiety, occasional bouts of depression, more anxiety, sprinkled with a dash of hypochondria, and (just to paint you a picture) topped with more anxiety. It's a fun little mix of insanity. My boyfriend finds it hilarious. 

I've seen drastic improvements since beginning therapy a few months ago. If my anxiety (did I mention I have anxiety?) was a 9 out of 10 before, it's now a 3 or 4. Which is a HUGE improvement to my overall quality of life- and, come to think of it, my boyfriend's as well. He no longer keeps the razors and booze in a 'safe place.' BUT.... I've noticed one tinsy, tiny draw back. You know how annoying it is when someone has a kid and all they talk about is their goddamned kid? As if you care? It's so offensive I can't stand it. Well, unfortunately, I seem to have become 'that girl' only with my therapist. I literally don't think I am capable of having a 10 minute conversation without bringing him up about 307 times. It has to be so annoying for everyone around me. I was recently on the phone talking to a childhood friend who just got engaged and this is actually something I caught myself saying, "well, my therapist tells me that in life we can't control pain. The only thing we can control is suffering, meaning the way to react and deal with pain." UGH. First of all, why the hell I brought up pain and suffering when she called to tell me the happiest news of her life- I still don't fully understand. Secondly, I noticed my tone when I said this to her. It was a balance between serene, forceful, and condescending.  I basically have never sucked more than in that moment. 

But the problem is I can't stop. It's just too exciting! FINALLY, after 26 years, I am able to understand my insanity. It's fantastic. I mean, don't you want to know why you're so off your rocker? And, for the love of God, don't pretend for one second you're not insane. The scariest people in the world are the people who don't recognize their insanity. But I digress. My point is- I will actively try to be less annoying with the whole "I'm-so-enlightened-because-I-go-to-therapy-once-a-week" thing- and I will try not to bring it up in conversation so much. 

And besides, my therapist says that it's totally normal to behave this way. 

Organized Chaos

I have to say that these past 6 months of unemployment have been exactly what I needed. Admittedly, this time hasn't been all fun and games (just some of it). It's been stressful and scary and occasionally shameful, but I've recently realized that I like the chaos and unpredictability of my life right now. I'm 26 years old and I will admit that I don't know what the fuck I am doing. There. I said it. Why is it so hard to admit that we sometimes don't have a plan, or don't want a plan? (And by the way... if my life ever does become regimented and predictable you have my permission to shoot me- you know... with a gun). This affectionate attitude towards disarray is not to be confused with complacency. I am here, in the thick of it, brawling against my own insecurities and society's judgements- fighting like hell to figure out what I want to do with my life.  I ask myself over and over- what is my passion? What would I do if I could do anything?

And, in the midst of all this confusion, I have discovered that there is something so wonderful about not taking the shortcut. There's a personal transformation that can only occur while your knee deep in your own insecurities and fears. I've been presented with 2 perfectly respectable job opportunities since I've been laid off. But both felt like a cop-out. Both felt like I was giving into the fear of unemployment and taking the easy way out. I know I made the right choice by sticking this out. I have decided to give myself the gift of chaos and I give myself permission to take the scenic route.

The most insane part of all of this is I do know what I want to do. I've known for a long time, it just took me this long to admit it. I want to be (brace yourselves... or yourself I should say... I think I only have one 'regular' reader... Heyyy Nat)..... a writer. As in I want to write. Professionally. Preferably for money at some point. Not because I feel like I'm unstoppably talented or anything. Nor do I think that the sweet lord has bestowed upon me a gift and it is my duty to share this gift with the world (Nat, feel free to disagree with any of this). I just feel that if you are drawn to something, and something feeds your soul in a way that is new and exciting, don't you owe it to yourself to see what it's all about? 

I have this image- nightmare I should say- of myself at 35 sitting at my desk at my fancy, formidable, nod-worthy, career-type job and I'm just a little bit dead inside. I have shaped my life in a way that many people respect and would expect of me. Maybe I needed to take the job because I have a husband and a kid (ugh again, permission to shoot me DEAD if this happens. The kid part. Not the husband part. Love you babe) and I felt like it was the right thing to do. And I always wonder what would have happened if I had the balls to try writing? What would have happened if I really went for it? What would have happened if I had been able to put aside my fear of failure and embarrassment? (Just a note: I am tooootally mortified to admit that I want to write. I sort of feel like the asshole who comes to LA and thinks they're going to become an actor. Or someone who's mom told them they were pretty one time too many and now they really believe that they are going to become a model. And who knows? People come to LA and successfully model and act.... and write... all the time. But, I mean, come on. This is just slightly less humiliating than the time my brother walked in on me masturbating with a sock when we were kids). So there it is. My nightmare. Sitting at my desk in the future always tormented by asking 'what if?' 

Since I've presented my worst nightmare... I suppose it's only fair to confess my deepest dream when it comes to writing. I think that everyone, myself of course included, have a deep desire to really be seen and understood. I love authors who write about their experiences, their flaws, their insecurities. It’s an unnerving and exhilarating experience when you can find a book or author who can speak for you. Raw honesty is the best part of reading, and presumably, writing. So that's the dream. I unveil parts of myself through writing and people are somehow moved by my experiences. 

Oh and since we're dreaming, I also want a HUGE rack.