Time to Pretend – MGMT
I write incredibly small. I think as a kid my self-esteem manifested in the font size of my handwriting, serving almost as encryption, should anyone ever be curious about the things swirling around in this crazy head of mine. I had forgotten this about myself, but once upon a time, I tried to be a poet. I have this journal from twenty years ago, filled with random musings and forced pentameter, so part of me is super glad that I eventually gave up on those pipe dreams and found a practical job. Let’s just say, life would be a bit more challenging, especially at this particular juncture in time, had my life gone that route. Anyways, I was procrastinating schoolwork over coffee, reading through it, and chuckling to myself at how annoying I was in my mid-twenties. I thought I had been over it backwards and forwards but turns out, tucked away in the void of the empty blank pages of this unfinished journal, was a poem I wrote. It is funny the cyclical nature of life’s lessons. I think even back then I knew that my kryptonite in life would be living an inauthentic life.
Here is the poem. My handwriting sucks, so I’ll transcribe here.
Faithful fact & truest conviction,
Erase a lie of the deepest fiction.
None to prove,
& none to know,
The mirror shows her greatest foe.
Goodbye sorrow, goodbye pain.
Goodbye storm, goodbye rain.
A smile unfaked
& hearty laughter,
Forbid the thoughts
Of past and after.
If only I had not ignored the warnings I clearly captured in these random thoughts of my youth. It reminded me of an MGMT song that plays in the first episode of The Magicians. Maybe I was fated to pretend. I hope not. I hope like the song says, “life can always start up anew”.
Unsent – Alanis Morissette
So one of my best friends sent me and our ex-roomie from college a heads up that they are coming out with a sequel to Practical Magic. I know. It’s not an irreplaceable classic, say for example the Godfather or Shawshank Redemption, but everyone is entitled to their guilty pleasure movies, so this ranks up there for me, along with the Princess Bride and Krull. Spoiler alert – there is a scene in the movie where a little girl witnesses a woman asking for her witchcraft practicing aunts to cast a love spell on the jaded ex-married lover that broke her heart. Seeing the desperation and pain in this woman, the little girl utters to herself, “I hope I never fall in love”. Later that night, she performs the same love spell, called Amas Veritas, much to the surprise of her confused sister, who reminds her of the earlier comments about not wanting to fall in love. She replies, that’s the point, the man she dreamed up doesn’t exist, and if he doesn’t exist, she would never die of a broken heart.
I found a journal that I kept over twenty years ago. I must have wrote in it after I watched this movie, way before any guy ever broke my heart, but sadly after seeing firsthand how love destroys two people in a marriage. I wrote my own version of Amas Veritas, putting my own spin on it of course. I wrote down qualities from guys that I either crushed on, dated, or was simply friends with, highly convinced that no one person could ever be the epitome of everything I was looking for, so there was a safety in that knowledge, but also maybe a settling.
Here is a copy of my journal entry and Amas Veritas spell. Redacted of course to use numbers instead of names.
3/16/04 2:30 am
Like Number 1 – he’ll never ask me to dance. If he wants to dance with me, there will be no request for permission, just a silent pull of my hand into his arms. We’ll dance whether it is at a party or the solitude of a living room, and whether there is a perfect song playing or no music playing at all.
Like Number 2 – he’ll think I am beautiful even when I am a mess, tired, or have zero makeup on. I will be comfortable enough around him to actually fall asleep in front of him. He’ll pull me into long hugs, without wanting more.
Like Number 3 – he’ll memorize the different ways I like my coffee and make me the perfect cup and offer it to me before I even have to ask for one.
Like Number 4 – he’ll bring music to my soul, playing the perfect song when I’m happy, sad, mad, or sleepy and it will perfectly capture or improve my mood.
Like Number 5 – He’ll have the scars of life and brokenness of growing up that make him the best kind of person. He’ll be someone who wants to protect others from feeling the darkness no one saved him from. He’ll have this unwavering faith in the good of other people.
Like Number 6 – he’ll be chivalrous, from making sure he’s on the traffic side of the street when we’re walking, moving the ketchup bottle off the table without me having to ask, or extending his hand or arm when I am feeling unsteady.
Like Number 7 – he’ll hold my hand, even when we’re old, and even when it’s freezing out and he’s cold. He’ll pull my hand into his own coat pocket so he can keep our hands warm without letting go.
Like Number 8 – he’ll say the perfect, inspired line at the precise moment I need to hear it. He’ll want to believe in God and faith, even though he struggles with it. He’ll pray over me, and kiss my forehead or cheek even if I am asleep.
Like Number 9 – he’ll make me laugh – like loud, snorting, water out your nose obnoxiously laugh. Talking to him will always be comfortable and honest, no matter what the subject is, like my soul immediately recognized his, so that familiarity already comes with a built-in trust.
Like Number 10 – he’ll have the greatest smile and body but won’t know it, because he is the best kind of handsome that isn’t conceited. His eyes will change color depending on his thoughts.
Like Number 11 – he’ll have the mind of an artist, seeing the beauty of life in all things. He’ll know what I am thinking before I say a word.
Like Number 12 – he is both silly and introspective, appreciating movies and old cartoons. He’ll be both emotionally and intellectually smart. He will be able to talk to anyone, because it comes from a genuine place and won’t need to drink to be the center of attention or have a good time. He’ll be fun, but also crave the quiet moments of life, even preferring getting so engrossed in a book over getting drunk in a bar with friends.
Looking back at it now, it was all smoke and mirrors. It was not a self-protection thing, and somewhere deep down there was this hope and belief that somewhere that person did exist. If I am being honest, I found people at different times who came really close. I married one. However, here is the problem though with Amas Veritas. It really does not matter if the perfect person actually exists, especially if you are searching with a broken soul that isn’t strong enough yet to feel complete. Having an incomplete soul clouded the perception of everything that I thought I wanted and wished for. In other words, someone could be perfect but may not necessarily be the perfect person for you.
Funny, but I discovered a song a couple of weeks ago where Alanis Morissette did something kind of similar, writing a postmortem of all the things she learned from the guys in her life. Listening to it felt oddly similar to the sentiments of my journal entry, but also left me with this sad feeling. Right now, there are just too many things I need to fix, work on and maybe atone for. The more I listen to the song though, there is a small part of me that thinks optimistically, that we are not all broken, and maybe we are lucky to have had opportunities to learn what makes happy. Maybe I will be one day be ready, and it would be nice if when I was, fate would intervene to let me know this person does exist.
Anti-Hero – Taylor Swift
I was talking to a friend on Saturday, and it turns out we both think that the movie Joe Versus the Volcano is one of the most underrated movies. Some spoiler alerts – so there is an awesome scene for anyone who has ever worked in an office under terrible, soul-sucking, fluorescent lights. There is another scene where Tom Hanks’ character plays the ukulele, which was probably just one of the handful of reasons I wanted to learn to play. Then, there is also this great scene where he asks the limo driver where he should go shopping for clothes, to which the driver takes umbrage, and pulls over the limo. Proceeds to explain how clothes make the man, and how he can’t tell him what clothes to buy, because that would be like him telling Joe who he is, and it has taken the limo driver his whole life just to find out who he was, and he’s tired.
So I’m tired too, but I do think I am closer than I have ever been to really knowing who I am. Problem is, I kind of suck. What’s that line from another great movie? “You either die a hero or you live long enough to see yourself become the villain.” Turns out I am not a good person. At least I haven’t been for the past month? Year? Years? The good news is that those who are self-aware always have the chance to turn things around, but still. It is never an easy day when you have to take stock of your life and realize all the wrong choices you have made along the way that have transformed you into the villain of your own story. That was how I woke up this weekend, suddenly recognizing that I have been following all the wrong signs and lost my sense of truth north. The past year has felt like a series of one-step forwards, and ten steps back. It is seriously getting old. Anyways, I was talking to someone else earlier today about how we are both in crisis mode, and she reminded me that one of the things we should be grateful for is the support system we have. When we lose sight of ourselves, true friends and family are sometimes the mirrors we need, reminding us of the best versions of ourselves we could be. Thank God I have those people, but man, it must really be exhausting for them sometimes to be in my corner and root for me as I repeat the same mistakes.
“It’s me, hi. I’m the problem, it’s me. At tea time, everybody agrees. I’ll stare directly at the sun, but never in the mirror. It must be exhausting always rooting for the anti-hero.”
Hold the Light – Dierks Bentley
I can’t find the words today…other than Heaven gained another angel.
“promise that you’ll dream with me, beyond the walls of time.
In the end we lay beside, just look up at the light.”
Let Go – Frou Frou
So, it is mother effing hot in Texas right now. My buddy that I am staying with keeps wanting to go out, knowing I only come to Houston for work, and haven’t really explored around. I am a homebody, so in an effort to keep us in the calming comfort of quiet (and air conditioning), I got him to start watching the show The Bear. It is probably one of my favorite shows at the moment. If you haven’t seen it, what the eff are you waiting for? Go. Like now. It’s on Hulu. You’re welcome.
So anyways, there is this phrase the main character Carmy uses that he got from his older brother – let it rip. I want to explain it, but I just deleted paragraphs of explanation, realizing I could never it do justice. Instead, I will share the scene where he breaks it down:
As an underwriter, and just as an overly cautious person in general, I don’t think I have ever been able to get fully behind the concept of let it rip. Recently, it has come to my attention that if I take my head of my own ass, I’m not alone, and there are a lot of people going through their own mini life crisis. Whether it is unrealized dreams, pain, or just generally feeling stuck, there are a lot of people I want to tell to “let it rip”. There is only so much you can do to try to inspire and motivate people. In the end, they have to be the ones who take those steps. I will remind them though that the hardest part is knowing what you really want and what your dreams are. Then the really, really scary part of the movie comes. Once you know what you want, you have two paths. Either, you cowardly put off making decisions that push you closer to achieving those dreams and day by day you start to forget again what it is that you wanted. OR you let it rip. Then maybe, just maybe, the amazing things that you never allowed yourself to believe you were capable of experiencing start happening. As I write this, I realize that I am the pot calling the kettle black. Today’s song, reminds me of these sentiments. Do the things you are afraid to do. I was re-reading Paulo Coelho’s “The Alchemist,” a few weeks ago, and was reminded when you want something, the universe has a way of conspiring in ways to help you achieve those dreams. Take advice from the Bear – let it rip.
Excuse me, too busy, you’re writing your tragedy. These mishaps you bubble wrap, when you’ve no idea what you’re like. So let go, so let go, hmm jump in. – Frou Frou
Quelqu’un m’a dit – Carla Bruni
Time is a son of a bitch. Sometimes there isn’t enough of it. Some days, you want to freeze moments in time or at least slow them down. Other days, there seems like there has been too much of it. Lately, I have been feeling more of the latter. Part of me wants to fast forward a few months from now, hoping that future me would have more of my shit together. Part of me is also hoping that the darkness of the last few days would be a distant memory for some loved ones going through some of the most messed up of things one could possibly experience in this life. I read this book once by Steve Martin, The Pleasure of My Company, where the main character talks about a coping mechanism he uses called Alternative Fixation. The concept of AF goes that if something is causing you needless worry or anxiety, think of something that stresses you out infinitely more. You might open Pandora’s box dealing with the bigger thing, but at least you stop stressing about the original thing. I have been using AF for almost 20 years now, and I can tell you it is pretty damn effective. So here we go –
So, it has been 6,057 days since I last heard my father’s voice. It was the day after New Years. He had a habit of calling and if you didn’t pick up, he would leave you this long-winded voicemail message. Then, he would call your work number and leave the same message. Call your work cell. Same crazy long message. After a while, I wouldn’t even listen to the messages. Seeing the missed call was enough reason to just call him back. Such was the case the day after New Years in ’09. We talked about what we did or didn’t do to reign in the New Year, and then he said he was sorry to hear about my recent breakup. He told me I was going to be okay. I deflected and we talked about family in Chicago. Then, we ended up fighting up something so dumb I can’t even remember what it was about, but he got frustrated and hung up on me. Two days later he had a heart attack. The next day I booked a flight to be with him, but while I was packing, I got the call he died. Four days later, I was getting ready for his memorial mass and I saw the pending voicemail message he left the week before. He wished me happy new year and brought up the breakup. As I started to rolled my eyes, annoyed that this time, I wouldn’t be able to deflect the conversation, he said these words – I just want you to be happy.
For anyone that knew my dad, you knew that towards the latter end of his life, he didn’t really believe happiness was in the cards. He believe it was more attainable to aim towards being content. The fact that this was his last message to me is so trippy. Hopefully, he is not too disappointed, since I am still figuring out what happiness to me looks like. In any case, it reminded me of a line in this French song from my favorite Joseph Gordon Levitt movie, 500 Days of Summer, that goes “I’m told that time that slips away is a bastard, that our sorrows are made into coats”. That is how time feels at the moment. It is a heavy ass freaking coat, and I cannot wait for when it is time to lay it down and enjoy lighter days. For those that want to hear and see in the original language, I included the French lyrics and English translation. Serait-ce possible alors?
I’m told our lives aren’t worth much
On me dit que nos vies ne valent pas grand-chose
They pass away in an instant like roses fade
Elles passent en un instant comme fanent les roses
I’m told that the time that slips away is a bastard
On me dit que le temps qui glisse est un salaud
That our sorrows are made into coats
Que de nos chagrins, il s’en fait des manteaux
Yet someone told me that you still loved me
Pourtant quelqu’un m’a dit que tu m’aimais encore
It was someone who told me that you still loved me
C’est quelqu’un qui m’a dit que tu m’aimais encore
Would it be possible then?
Serait-ce possible alors?
They tell me that destiny doesn’t care about us
On me dit que le destin se moque bien de nous
That he gives us nothing and promises us everything
Qu’il ne nous donne rien et qu’il nous promet tout
It seems that happiness is within reach
Paraît que le bonheur est à portée de main
So we reach out and find ourselves crazy
Alors, on tend la main et on se retrouve fou
Yet someone told me that you still loved me
Pourtant quelqu’un m’a dit que tu m’aimais encore
It was someone who told me that you still loved me
C’est quelqu’un qui m’a dit que tu m’aimais encore
Would it be possible then?
Serait-ce possible alors?
Would it be possible then?
Serait-ce possible alors?
But who told me that you still loved me?
Mais qui est-ce qui m’a dit que toujours, tu m’aimais?
I don’t remember, it was late at night
Je ne me souviens plus, c’était tard dans la nuit
I still hear the voice, but I no longer see the features
J’entends encore la voix, mais je ne vois plus les traits
He loves you, it’s secret, don’t tell him I told you
Il vous aime, c’est secret, lui dites pas que je vous l’ai dit
See, someone told me you still loved me
Tu vois, quelqu’un m’a dit que tu m’aimais encore
Was someone really telling me that you still loved me
Me l’a-t-on vraiment dit que tu m’aimais encore
Would it be possible then?
Serait-ce possible alors?
I’m told our lives aren’t worth much
On me dit que nos vies ne valent pas grand-chose
They pass away in an instant like roses fade
Elles passent en un instant comme fanent les roses
I’m told that the time that slips away is a bastard
On me dit que le temps qui glisse est un salaud
That our sadnesses are made into coats
Que de nos tristesses, il s’en fait des manteaux
Yet someone told me that you still loved me
Pourtant quelqu’un m’a dit que tu m’aimais encore
It was someone who told me that you still loved me
C’est quelqu’un qui m’a dit que tu m’aimais encore
Would it be possible then?
Serait-ce possible alors?
Why Try to Change Me Now – Fiona Apple
So, this is how my dysfunctional brain operates. A few weeks ago, I took the day off from work to go to the beach. I live 15-20 mins away, but I haven’t been there in 4 years? The plan was no kids, just me, sipping a cup of coffee, toes in the sand, movie scores blasting in my ear buds, finishing up a book or two, or coloring in my adult coloring book, because yes, I have one of those. This is how the day actually went. Somehow, I got sidetracked by work (I know I am one of those terrible people that can’t unplug). After putting out a few fires, I realized I should probably eat because I couldn’t remember if I ate dinner the night before. Made the perfect breakfast – egg whites, spinach, and cheddar with 4 slices of thinly cut spam and rice on the side. Then I decided to stop procrastinating and put the final touches on the coffee cup painting I had been working on for the past two weeks. With the morning slowly getting away from me, I finally got in my car, but decided the sticky film created by my nine- and four-year-old had reached defcon 2, so I made another slight detour to get my car washed/vacuumed. In retrospect, this would have been a pretty, terrible decision if I actually followed through, considering all the sand I would have trekked back from Bradley. Anyways, so I’m halfway to the carwash place, and see Bo.The.Tattoo.Guy’s parlor. I have passed his place for years since its on my way to my mother’s apartment, but about a month ago I called, had a nice chat with Bo, and started following him on IG. So I decided to go to the beach, instead I ended up getting a tattoo. Pretty successful day off.
I did none of the things I actually set out to do that day, but I did cross off something that has been on my bucket list for over 20 years. My mom threatened us back in college that we ever did, she would stop talking to us. There’s a funny story there about the time my sister tricked her with some fake henna tramp stamp she got in Mexico, but I will save that for another post when I find the picture I took of actual steam coming out of her ears. Turns out parents can be quite reasonable when they know you are going through a midlife crisis. This did, however, get me thinking about how over the years I have desperately wanted to change and be someone else. Someone lighter. Funnier. Prettier. Smarter…Someone definitely less scatterbrain. Turns out I had it all wrong. It is not about being someone different that was going to make me happy. It is about resolving to giving up on being someone different and instead being comfortable in one’s own skin. Choosing yourself and really knowing who you are.
“I’ve got some habits even I can’t explain. I go to the corner, I end up in Spain. Why try to change me now?” – Fiona Apple (Sorry Frank…Fiona’s version is so good)
Sympathy – Goo Goo Dolls
One of my favorite weeks of the year is going to this annual work conference hosted by the partner company I work with. They host it in a different city every July, so it ends up turning into a mini vacation for me. However, the first three conferences used to stress me out to a defcon 1 level, mostly because I am terrible remembering names AND faces. I KNOW. Not the kind of flaw you want to have when 80% of your job is relationship-driven. And so, there is always a handful of awkward interactions at these things, where I introduce myself and I am greeted with disappointing faces followed by the phrase that haunts me for weeks after, where they tell me, “Dianne, we have met three or four times before”. Doh. Anyways, so this year we were back in Boston and it’s towards the end of the second night, when I run into one of my favorite risk managers. He is warm, and unapologetically unique (I remembered his name after our first meeting). He introduced one of his coworkers along with her daughter, and I swear there must be something in the water in Oregon, because they are both just as warm and inviting as he is. They commented on my tattoo, and I noticed they were similarly adorned, and turns out they recently got matching ones. You could immediately tell how close they were. I smiled through the pain of that, hiding my jealousy. Elise has always been daddy’s little girl. My son, who used to be a mamma’s boy, is older now, and our dynamic has changed. His hugs are forced, and even though he says he loves me, these days, it is begrudgingly mumbled.
In any case, back to this woman – the next day, the actual conference started, and I am enjoying the session. Doug Flutie is talking about how short people overcome adversity, so I forgive the digs he makes towards New York teams. Shortly after, like any normal week, I get an urgent text from a broker to call, so I extricate. Turns out someone needs an urgent quote to go out, so there I am underwriting away, missing the guest speaker that apparently talked about the secret to happiness. Ironic, right? I must have had ten people come up to me later on that day who knows of my situation, telling me how good it was, and how they thought about me at some point wondering if anything resonated. Oh well, I think they gave us the person’s book, but it is in a bag of random swag we got that week that I have yet to unpack. Suddenly, the woman I met the previous night comes up to me. And yes, blame either the tiredness, the 4 days of alcohol, not enough food (unless you count the squares of Laderach chocolate I bought to snack away on and remember Zurich when coffee did not feel like enough), but I could not remember this woman’s name for the life of me. I apologized, and she graciously smiled. She talked about the secret to happiness speaker, which in turn morphed into this sweet conversation about daughters. Although they are close now, she explained how it was a long road. She reminded me that Elise was still young, but remarked that she was tough on her daughter in those early years to now, because she didn’t want her to grow up to be a princess. This struck a nerve. Elise wears her princess costume every chance she gets and it takes a lot of distraction to get her to change into normal clothes when I bring her to school. The woman explains it is because above all things she wanted her to grow up to be resilient. I told her mission accomplished she definitely seems that she is.
I am good with interacting with certain people on a one-on-one basis. I really love when I meet the right kind of people, that in a brief amount of time, you can have the kind of conversation that gets oddly deep and philosophical. I am introspective. I used to apologize for this, but as it turns out, I just may not have been interacting with the right kind of people. Maybe it is something about being older. I used to feel so sad when I could not connect with people, but now, I have realized that not everyone is worth my time and effort. Not everyone needs to see that part of me, so I save that effort for the people that are. I am not everyone’s cup of tea, so it is important to be more guarded, take my time, and get better at reading people.
The last day of the conference I walk into the first session. Hundreds of people, but I see the woman, and this time I DO remember her name. So we sit together and as we are chit chatting away, she remarks about how grateful she was for the week, to get away from home. Then she hits me with this bomb. It turns out her husband is dying, and already passed the doctor’s original timeframe expectations. She almost did not come, but she said felt God telling her that she and her daughter needed this temporary pause from the heaviness back home. I cried, but it was an emotional week, so those emotions were already pretty accessible. The session started, but I swear, who could concentrate on insurance at that point? I know everyone has got their crap to carry, but really its too much sometimes. It hurt even worse thinking about the previous night, about the warmth this family exuded. You would know have no idea that their world was falling apart. This woman was so worried about time they had left. So, I took one of the notepads in front of me and started scribbling away. It is not often, especially with my strained relationship with God, that I hear His voice, but I did or at least I think I did. I wrote this woman a letter that went something to the tune of this:
Dear __ ,
I know I am supposed to be paying attention to this speaker right now, but all I can think of is how sad I am that bad things always seem to happen to the nicest people. I am sitting here, praying for you, your husband and your daughter, and I hope you will forgive me, I just for some reason feel compelled to share this with you.
My dad died of a heart attack when I was 27, so around the same age as your daughter. There was very little warning and I was mad at God for a long time. My dad and I – we didn’t have enough time. He was probably the first, maybe only, man that truly loved me unconditionally, but he passed before I had my kids, and I just think something happens when you become a parent that brings the kind of clarity that really brings into focus all the decisions your parents made that as a child you resented, but it was just them trying they best they could without any kind of instruction manual.
I share this with you because it may not seem like it at this moment, but God has given you a gift, something I wish everyday He gave me. He is giving you the gift of time. Time to still make new memories, to say the things people agonize for years wishing they said, time to laugh, cry and everything in between. Time to still show that while life may fade, love endures.
I am glad that we met this week, and you made the decision to come here, as you stated you recognized that you needed to put on your oxygen mask before reaching out to help others. I will keep praying for your husband, for you and your daughter. Be well. -Dianne
Be kind to people. You never know what they are carrying.
This weekend I went to see Goo Goo Dolls, and he shared why he wrote this song, saying it’s about something we all need, but we should never ever have to ask for. This song is called Sympathy.
“It’s hard to lead the life you choose (All I wanted),
When all your luck’s run out on you (All I wanted)
You can’t see when all your dreams are coming true”
Vindicated – Dashboard Confessional
It is strange to look back at your life and find the things you neglected over the years that gave you peace. Don’t get me wrong. The last 15 years I accomplished a lot. I had two wonderful children, and they are my favorite people on the planet. I traveled and crossed a couple of new countries off my scratch-off map. I had three surgeries. Oh, and after spending ten years working in a place where I just felt like a cog in a massive corporate wheel, I made the move to another company where we built something from scratch. Pulled together a team comprised of people whose company I truly enjoy, both inside and outside of work. We built a book out of essentially nothing, supporting each other as we crawled through the perpetual trenches of an ever-changing underwriting world. They are all weird but loveable and super driven, teaching me the kind of manager and the kind of leader I want to be. However, somewhere in the middle of all that, pouring all my energy into taking care of all of the people in my life, I lost sight of something. I lost sight of me. Everything became about how I could make other people happy. I thought it was just normal anxiety, but over time something in me snapped, and everything just started to hurt. I would cry on my days off when I was alone in the house, wondering what was wrong with me and why I was starting to dream of a life that looked very different than the one I built – one that any other person would feel lucky and happy to have. I had to remind myself to breathe, but even that felt heavy and strained, when in reality, it should feel like the most effortless thing.
The last year has been a journey rediscovering the things in my life that made me feel happy versus what made other people happy. I started reading again, watching movies, and even started practicing my guitar and ukulele every day (even on random occasions the piano) again. I went back to school and I am halfway to getting my MBA with a concentration in Energy and Sustainability Studies. I finally got a tattoo. I even started journaling again. The particular journal I have been writing in has certain themes with daily questions. Last week on the plane ride out to a work trip to Boston, instead of flipping to the next sequential page, I let fate decide what it wanted me to focus on and opened to a random page. The prompted question was this – What is giving you energy recently? Here is what I wrote:
I have been afraid of so many different things in this life, but nothing scares me more than making mistakes. Plagued by this constant fear of failure, I built a life centered on perfection, only to have my worst fear come true. I failed…as a wife and as mother who once promised in a letter that I wrote to my unborn kids 13 years ago, that I would build a life for them that would not mimic the broken home of my own childhood.
I have spent a year grieving that failure. What is giving me energy now is that the kids and their father, at this point, are NOT irreparably broken. While I am still seeking redemption and navigating what feels will be a lifetime of guilt from having fucked up their lives, today, the future feels less scary. Dare I say, there is a slight glimmer of hope that while there are so many mistakes that I can still make or that I am currently making, the future pains that follow those mistakes will certainly pale in comparison to having already failed at the biggest thing I ever wanted from this life.
Also, when I really look back I don’t really feel like I failed completely as a mom. Is this the life that I wanted for them? Not even close. But the greater tragedy would have been to stay, and teach them all the wrong things about love. Christopher and Elise – you are all I have ever wanted, and all I ever truly needed in this life. If I put you and your happiness first, life will always be good, and I will be the mom I always wanted to be. I know that I do not deserve your love, and you will have so many questions later in life that I won’t ever have all the answers for, but I hope one day you will understand how much more present and healthy I want to be for you. You deserve more than a mom that puts on a fake smile, and cries behind closed doors when you are not looking. I hope you will understand like I did when I was a child and saw my dad cry, that your happiness cannot be fully complete, unless your parents are happy too.
Oh, so the other thing I rediscovered is how much I love music. This blog has been quiet, because the music, the soundtrack of my life, suddenly stopped. Like a needle stuck on a record and there was just ambient noise. This is me resetting. I have always loved live music. Last week, I was lucky enough to be able to schmooze my way into scoring free tickets to 3rd row center seats at PNC to see two bands I truly love – Dashboard Confessional and the Goo Goo Dolls. The soundtrack of my life started again.
Can I just say that 1) Chris Carrabba has aged quite nicely, 2) both him and John Rzeznik, after 26 and 40 years, respectively, still have the ability to captivate an audience and 3) we’re all hella old.
“I am flawed, but I am cleaning up so well. I am seeing in me now the things you swore you saw yourself.” – Dashboard Confessional, Vindicated
28 – Lorene Scafaria
weird… i started out my twenties engaged in what i can only describe as a desperate pursuit towards perfection. i would love to say that i grew tired of that after the first few years, (hehe as so many people close to me did) but it seems that i almost wasted away a decade of my life trying to find that better version of myself. I don’t know…i just always felt that one of these days, or in this case, one of these years, was gonna be MY year. I suppose this is why i always had problems celebrating my birthday. Where others would spend their special day in celebration of another year of possibility, i would take the negative route of seeing the day as a reminder of how another year has passed and i have yet again failed to grow another year wiser.
today i turned 29…and after a weekend of trying to abide by zombieland rule #32 ‘enjoy the little things” (i.e. spending time with friends and family, taking a personal day off from work to do absolutely nothing but veg and watch almost an entire season of 24 and “cardio” if you count lifting back a few beers as exercise) i think i’ve finally found the sense of peace that i was looking for almost nine years ago…and surprisingly its not because i feel that i have in any way changed or become a significantly better version of myself. It’s kind of like this song I’ve had in my head all day…its about a girl who can’t wait to be 28, because she seems to think that one day she’ll grow up and things will get easier and she’ll have a better understanding of who she is by then..that 28 is the year that she’ll finally turn things around. I’ve felt like that girl, but this year i think i’ll decide to just relax and enjoy the fact that i don’t need to have everything figured out today or in a year, because that’s just life…and if we had everything perfect and figured out then we wouldn’t need tomorrow. (in short, its time to nut up or shut up)
Who knows what will happen this year, or how i feel this time next year when i reach the big 3-0. I hope i’ll be smart enough to read this, and remember how i feel today – that i’m most happiest when i feel life isn’t a race to some finish line and that every year we get to share with the people we care about is a gift.
~tell everyone that they’ll just have to wait til i turn 29,
things are gonna be fine at 29~
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The The – This is the Day
I was over my friend’s house the other night, trying to fight off a pretty heavy case of ‘itis after some fat-messy chinese food indulgence in celebration of a bunch of february friend bdays. I started talking to my friend about how problematic it is for us to wake up in the morning. My wake up calls have evolved into a three-part alarm system, because I seriously am the Queen of Snooze.
Anyways, so back to post-chinese itis – in mid conversation i had an epiphany of what i believe would be the greatest invention ever. The aromatherapy alarm clock. But instead of lavendar and other bath and body like scents, the aromas would be things like pancakes, or bacon, or in my case, coffee. As my wise friend pointed out, nothing wakes us up faster (and willingly) than the smell of something yummy coming from the kitchen. This notion was confirmed when i was watching some comedian’s stand up bit. oh, some background info – i’ve started a mini tradition that shall henceforth be known as “make me laugh mondays”, in which i watch a different comedian every week on netflix, in an effort to break the habit of taking myself so seriously. Anyways back to the comedian, whos name has somehow managed to escape me, he was saying that his lifelong dream was to have a minifridge instead of a nightstand in his bedroom, where he’d keep stuff like beer, water, creamer, etc. Then on top of that minifridge would be a programmable coffee maker instead of an alarm clock. Genius. Pure genius. The whole idea of having a cup of coffee before my feet even hit the floor in the a.m. is so obvious i don’t know why a caffeine fanatic such as myself had not thought of this sooner. Anyways, this is my dream and soon-to-be reality, as soon as my tax refund check makes its way into my checking account this year. Until then, I’ve noticed that there is a list of about eight songs at the moment and on a given morning if one of the eight songs plays, my day is instantly better…brighter. This song is one of the eight. My favorite part of the day is that first moment when I walk out of my apartment and I feel the warmth of a newly risen sun…it’s the moment that my heart fills up like a balloon with all the hope and uncertainty like anything and everything could happen in those next few hours.
~ This is the day, your life will surely change. This is the day, when things fall into place ~
Up the Spout – Mateo Messina
I was having lunch at Macaroni Grill with the fam the other day. Its not one of my favorite places. I prefer the one off, holes in the wall over the chain restaurants, but this place does have yummy bread and nutella puff pastries, not to mention that it’s also one those restaurants where they give everybody crayons regardless of age, so you can doodle and write all over the white paper they drape over the actual tablecloth. I like drawing, but like a lot of the things I enjoy in life – I pretty much suck at it. My brother Robert on the other hand can be quite the artist when he wants to be. So to pass the time waiting for our entrees, I commissioned him to draw an image that’s been stewing in my mind over the last few months. The image i’ve been trying to manifest was inspired by the lyrics to a song that goes: “a fish swims in the sea, while the sea is in a certain sense contained within the fish” Though I’ve always been someone who has led a life more resembling that of a cameleon than a fish, this line really spoke to me, as it reminds me that you cannot let your current circumstances define who you are. Put that fish in a different body of water and the knowledge that the fish must swim and belongs in water to survive is not lost on the fish, just as a person should retain a basic concept of who they are regardless of who they are with or where they are in life. Anyways, so I have been trying to capture the essence of this quote in a single image. But how do you capture the image of the sea WITHIN a fish? So I threw the challenge to my brother…telling him to draw a fish filling up with water. Him, being the fool / genius that he is, took my description literally and drew this. It’s a bit light, but if you focus in a bit, it’s a picture of a fish, mouth open, beneath a running faucet (A fish literally “filling” up with water). I was frustrated with him at first, thinking that he missed the point of this little exercise, but after staring and stewing over it a bit, I think he came up with something even better. I realize now that maybe more so than the cameleon, I have often behaved like this fish, in all its ridiculousness – a thirsty fish swimming in search for water, not realizing that all I am desperately searching for, all i need to sustain me, can be found all around me. Great family, good friends, a job that pays the bills, okay health, & a million and one hobbies to keep me busy. What more could a girl ask for? It’s time to stop looking up the spout. sidenote: this song is from the movie Juno. great movie, great soundtrack
Here Comes the Sun – The Beatles
One of the most depressing things about winter for me is walking out of my building at 5:01pm and finding that it might as well be 9pm because its pitch black outside already. Options for after-work bludging now seem limited and the day already feels over. Jogging in the park is out of the question, which leaves the only alternative – indoor treadmill running…a not so appealing option, since the last time you were at the gym, you were running next to creepy guy who gave new meaning to the term swamp-ass, not to mention he may have been the reason why deodorant was invented. Anyways, it made me think that if this were summer, i could get by at work half asleep until 5pm hits. Then, I can mentally stop pressing snooze and let my real day begin. Spring comes and beings the sun along with it, which in turn means I jog in the park more…I’m more inclined to cook dinner instead of order takeout or eat cereal. In this capacity, I kinda feel like superman, where my life force is tied with the sun. Those people that get depressed more in the winter, I’m definitely one of them. But the last two weeks, I’ve noticed that the sun is starting to stay a while longer, not completely setting until i get back to my apartment. On one such drive home, i had my ipod on random and this song came on and it captured every essence of hope that a warm and sunny can bring. In my humble opinion, it is the perfect almost spring song, therefore my new happy song. So much so that last week, I made my guitar teacher teach it to me.
The 10 Days of Paramore – Love’s Not A Competition
Day Ten
I like giving each year of my life a theme. Last year’s was “Declutter”, which as it turns out was pretty appropriate not to mention successful . Cut some excess and otherwise dead weight from my life. After some careful consideration, I’ve decided 2011’s theme will be “Empowered”, as I’ve discovered the biggest, toughest lesson I’ve ever had to learn is that nothing makes you feel more empowered than making the decision to stop living your life for other people and to just live life for yourself. As a tribute to this theme I’m dedicating today’s song to all douchebags out there (past, present but hopefully not too many in the future). Thanks for all the lessons learned, hahaha punks =P
“I won’t be the one to disappoint you, anymore…”
Doesn’t hearing this song make you feel all kinds of happy?
For another awesome live version –
The 10 Days of Paramore – Feeling Sorry
Day Nine
So I know this girl. She is plagued with regret and completely lacking in confidence at times. She constantly apologizes, usually for things she really has no need to feel sorry about. It’s sad and annoying, but only because she has all the potential in the world to be awesome, if only she adjusted her outlook on life a little bit.
Maybe you have a friend like her. Someone who does not quite understand yet that the real tragedy is not in the time we “wasted” making mistakes, but in the time we spend in the post mortem…agonizing over the what-if details.
Oh, if you haven’t guessed by now, this friend I’m talking about is the who stares back at me in the mirror every morning, but on a positive note, the 2010 version of Dianne was a lot better than 2009, so I feel hopeful with the following resolutions, Dianne v.2011 is gonna be even better.
11 Resolutions for 2011
1. To steal the very wise words of a dear friend…learn to fake it til I make it.
2. Learn to play a new song every week on the guitar & play at least 5 of them in front of other people. (I started taking guitar lessons again and so the first part of this resolution should be a breeze, thanks to my awesome new teacher)
3. solo visit to another country – ___ & ___ are looking pretty good right now
4. Train myself to not look more than 4 days into the future and 24 hours into the past
5. Try something new…foodwise (because trying cheesesteaks and burritos worked out pretty good for me in 2010)
6. Upload my pictures in more timely fashion
7. Finish writing at least one of my books
8. Pay all of my bills on time
9. Promise not to do in 2011 the thing that I did at least four times in 2010. =X
10. Be a better friend, sister, daughter
11. Stop apologizing for crap decisions, and just move forward, like today’s Paramore song
~ I’m getting bored waiting round you, you’re not getting any younger,
and I won’t look back cause there’s no use, it’s time to move forward ~
The 10 Days of Paramore – For a Pessimist, I’m Pretty Optimistic
Day Eight
Today is random factoid day. There’s 28…because, well…I’m 28 and it felt like a nice even number. Here goes…meaningless trivia that will in no way add anything to your life. You’re welcome 🙂
1. Some days I wish I snorted when I laughed…just cause I think it makes other people laugh harder.
2. If there’s a guy I really like, I cease using his real name when I talk about him to friends. He gets a nickname that he will never find out about.
3. I sometimes eat rice with mac and cheese. It’s a comfort thing that I justify to others by telling them I’m asian and therefore eat rice with everything.
4. I remember at least two or three dreams a night…half are violent, death-by-alligator or falling off bridge dreams, the other half are silly like not being able to find a raccoon mask or walking out of my house with no shoes on.
5. Love’s not a competition but I’m winning.
6. The most terrible thing said to me this week was “oh, your hair looks interesting today”.
The most terrible thing that someone ever said to me, ever, was that I had the worst taste in movies.
7. My life hasn’t been the same since Chinabowl closed.
8. I looove it when guys wear blue button downs with a t-shirt underneath.
9. Three things I prefer to do by myself is travel, watch movies and drive. I say drive because I sing insanely loud when I am by myself.
10. When I was in kindergarten we had to draw a picture of what we wanted to be when we grew up. I drew a mom and my teacher said that wasn’t a real profession. I think I still want to be a mom someday, but I’m really scared of how big of a bitch I’ll be for nine months without coffee or sushi or chocolate.
11. The only thing that makes me want to vomit besides vomit, is ketchup.
12. I take serious umbrage against two things – 1) that I suffer from a severe case of insomnia at night when I have ABSOLUTELY no trouble falling asleep at work and 2) fridge makers don’t think freezers are deserving of a light.
13. If there is a heaven, I hope it’s like Defending Your Life, where you can eat anything you want and not gain an ounce, and you can see what you were in past lives.
14. If there is a heaven, God probably lost my invitation sometime after I did this very bad thing once at church.
15. If we could see who we were in our past lives, I think I’d see a hockey player, a penguin, and maybe someone who died at a ketchup factory.
16. A cute guy escalates to hot if he can make me laugh or quote a movie.
17. An okay looking guy gets demoted in attractiveness for excessive typos or being too close of a talker.
18. I once peed in a library. Not the library bathroom…like between the stacks.
19. I once ate a 1.5lb bag of crispy m&ms in one sitting. I should be embarrassed by this factoid, but I feel pretty proud actually.
20. Each day, I grow more and more convinced that there is a ghost or two following me around.
21. One of my favorite things in the world is hearing my sister, goddaughter or my brother laugh.
22. I love watching TV, but I really, really hate reality TV…because hello? reality? That’s what I’m trying to escape from…
22. I often fake sickness, only to get actually sick a week or two later.
23. Chris Carrabba and I hugged for 13 seconds once after he signed my capo. Haven’t met a guy yet that could hug as good as him. I might be forever ruined.
24. I miss my flag football days.
25. I love having my own place for three main reasons 1) I get to control the temperature 2) I get to control the remote 3) I can eat breakfast for dinner without judgment.
26. Found out recently that I am not the only one who hates the feeling of tissues or newspaper when my hands are dry.
27. One day I will have at least three __ . (no not babies)
28. Like today’s Paramore song….For a Pessimist, I’m Pretty Optimistic
The 10 Days of Paramore – Turn It Off
Day Seven
Truth be told, I have been suffering from a severe case of writer’s block for the last few weeks. Anyone whose suffered through kidney stones or mall holiday-induced gridlock knows there’s nothing worse than a blockage…but since words and I seem to not be friends, at the moment, I suppose the best I can do is leave you with a movie and song suggestion at least…both of which will do a much better job than me, at capturing the mood.
So if life were a movie, right now it would be the one I have been watching on repeat almost every night for the past few weeks, Alice in Wonderland – particularly the scene where we see her falling down the rabbit hole, almost endlessly. The Paramore song for the day, needs no explanation, as the lyrics are poignant enough to speak for itself and my present state of mind.
“and in the free fall I will realize I’m better off when I hit the bottom…”
The 10 Days of Paramore – Conspiracy
Day Six
There’s this book I almost finished reading a while back which said something to the effect that the ability to change the world lies in the power of our thoughts. I remember thinking to myself, well if that’s true, it’s quite possible that the 100 lb, 4’10 wonder I see in the mirror everyday may be one of the the most powerful people in the world. Honestly, I really don’t know anyone that thinks as much as I do. Obviously, my efforts to harness this power, and use it for the greater good, up to this point have been a massive fail, so i’ll probably have to accept the fact that i’ll never get around to changing the world. But I’d settle for changing mine.
Its hard to describe, but there was a brief moment when I was a kid when I felt invincible. I would race my sister fearlessly down slopes with tucked poles and parallel skis. I babbled on to anyone and everyone without a care or insecurity in the world to wonder if i was even being interesting. I wanted to ride every roller coaster, regardless if I was tall enough to meet the minimum height requirement. I once ran up the side of the Sydney Opera House and perched myself on a ledge just because I was bored and wanted a better view of the harbour. Bottom line is that once upon a time, I didn’t give a shit. I went through life ignoring my own mortality and thinking the only opinion that matter was my own. Some days I feel like I’m getting that back, but lately its been a one step forward, two steps back kind of process. I’ve been somewhat unfocused the last few months, getting caught up in life’s distractions, but I realize now that getting back to that state of fearlessness has become my first priority. The sun is rising now, and with it, a renewed sense of hope that my world is already changing, just simply knowing that I have this something to strive towards now.
“The night is darkest just before the dawn, and I promise you the dawn is coming.” – The Dark Knight
The 10 Days of Paramore – Oh Star
Day Five
So I am a pretty superstitious person. (ooo…that sounds conceited, correction: pretty as in very). Avoid black cats and walking under ladders. God help the person, other than the Chinese takeout guy, that touches my fortune cookie. I extend this same irrational belief and zeal to wishes. We’re talking eyelashes, seeing a digital clock turn 11:14, making a wish before I blow out the candles on my birthday cake (oops i didn’t do that this year). Hmm, oh and every year I lose about $10 in change to fountains. A small price to pay in comparison to the last night’s ritual, when I woke up super early to watch one of the three biggest annual meteor showers, the Leonids (the Perseids are in August, next one is the Geminids in December..ahem nerd alert).
Super tired and drastically underdressed, I only stayed awake long enough to catch a glimpse of two meteors. Now counting the latest two, I’ve seen over 50 shooting stars. I know a few people who have never seen one, but I can tell you even after seeing 50, I still ooo and awe, like its the first time. Something weird happened last night though…for the life of me, I could not think of anything to wish for. I’d like to say that the reason why I did not know what to wish for was because my life is so rich and fulfilling that a wish would’ve been unnecessary, but haha that wouldn’t be the truth. Wishing on a shooting star, to me, is nothing like throwing a penny in a fountain. Those wishes have to as equally extraordinary and special as the shooting star itself. Let me clarify that the kind of things I wish for are not so much of the “I-hope-I-win-the-lottery” variety. They are more like little things I hope for my life or for myself. But last night, I guess I just choked. I guess that’s why I like today’s Paramore song. To me, it’s a reminder about dangers of indecision and not knowing what you want.
The 10 Days of Paramore – Careful
Day Four
First off, I love strategies. Rules. Lists. The calculated order of certain certainties. Problem is, this careful, methodical way of living can backfire and build a bubble around your life. Every time I took the careful way out, I kept myself from growing into a stronger, more mature person, and it certainly did not help me become any braver. The plain and ugly truth is that my life for the first 25 years or so was kind of ordinary (boring). Don’t get me wrong, I’m not complaining. What is it that they say? For everything in life there is a season?
This week I took advantage of a friend’s suggestion to run away from home for a while, to sin city of all places. Guess what though – even in this half-assed attempt to be spontaneous, I still managed to come up with a list of to-dos – watch the water / light fountain show thing outside the Bellagio. Get a tattoo. Have some laughs with a couple of good friends. Watch a show. Drink. Come back with some memories. Sky jump off the stratosphere. I am proud to say that I did five out of the seven things on this list (with the exception being the first two items).
Now I don’t know about you, but I get vertigo walking too close to the railing on the second floor of a mall, so the idea of jumping off a building attached to a few wires seemed just a tad bit out of the realm of possibility. But I guess you just get to a point, when you get really tired of being scared ALL the time. So there I was, out on the ledge over a hundred floors up, bargaining with the guy in charge of all the safety checks to push me off, because let me tell ya – the really scary thing about jumping isn’t the fall. It’s that first step -that moment of conscious decision when you let go and step into oblivion. The falling part is easy. You scream bloody murder and gravity takes care of the rest. But that first step is all you. There’s a line in today’s Paramore song, which goes, “you can’t be too careful anymore, when all that is waiting for you won’t come any closer…you’ve got to reach a little more”. Stepping off that ledge made me feel something I’ve never felt before – the hope in uncertainty. It was a great feeling. I felt like Ethan Hawke in the movie Gattaca, when he said “it was the moment that made everything else possible”. Being careful, following rules and expectations = overrated. Knowing that you still have the ability to surprise yourself = priceless.
The 10 Days of Paramore – Hear You Me
Day Three
Good afternoon world. Recently, I’ve been thinking a lot about family. Whether it be your own flesh and blood, or people who have seen you grow and been with you in good times and bad, there is nothing in the world more precious and rare than having that kind of support system as we stumble our way through this crazy thing called life. My family, immediate and extended, is awesome, to put it mildly. Who knows why, but they love me. They put up with my crap, and, most of the time, manage to bring out the best in me.
I spent this past weekend with my saster and our awesome friends. I guess this will be one of the last weekends, I will be spending with her as a “single” chick because in less than three weeks, she will be making her way down the aisle. Not saying that she’s going anywhere or that we’ll be hanging out less. It’ll probably just be different. Anyways, I love her. Not because she was nice enough to make me breakfast. Not because she didn’t complain when I sort of tricked her into doing my laundry. And not because she was nice enough to drop me off at the airport just now. Words really cannot describe how happy I am for my loving saster, and how ecstatic I will be to have most of my nearest and dearest there to share in that moment with her and my future brother-in-law.
If I had one wish though, it would be to feel the presence of another particular person there that day. A person who I know would’ve been especially proud to see her more beautiful and happy than we’ve ever seen her. Proud also because he never had to remind THIS daughter to never have regrets, to be herself, or to let things go.
The following is a cover of a Jimmy Eat World song. I love when bands I love, cover songs I already loved and make them feel new to me again. I first heard this song in the movie Butterfly Effect, but when Paramore covered it, I listened a bit more closely to the lyrics and was overwhelmed by how perfectly it describes my feelings for the first and maybe only man to really love me. I miss you Dad…everyday. I lift this song to you and hope that it carries with it, the weight of all the things I didn’t get to tell you. To those nearest and dearest in your lives, take my advice – don’t be a schmuck, let them know you care. Hear You Me.
There’s no one in town I know, You gave us some place to go.
I never said thank you for that. I thought I might get one more chance.
What would you think of me now, so lucky, so strong, so proud?
I never said thank you for that, now I’ll never have a chance.
May angels lead you in. Hear you me my friends.
On sleepless roads the sleepless go.
May angels lead you in.
And if you were with me tonight, I’d sing to you just one more time.
A song for a heart so big, God wouldn’t let it live.
May angels lead you in.
The 10 Days of Paramore – I Caught Myself
Day Two
So my wonderful nephew sent me an email for the first time. Weird, and holy crappola, I feel super old, because it seems like just yesterday the kid was the size of a football in my arms. Now, he and my troublemaker of a goddaughter are almost whole people, speaking full sentences laced with sarcasm which they have no doubt learned from my brother Mike. Suddenly they’re calling me on the phone and sending me emails from their own personal accounts about how I owe them a guitar lesson or two and that they finished the third Harry Potter book. Actually, I’m going to digress for a bit and talk about Harry Potter for a while, because let’s face it – the magical land of Hogwarts is far more interesting than the whole me-getting-old thing. So for those of you who have not had the pleasure of reading the books or watching the movies – haha what have you been doing with your life? And remind me again why we’re friends? Just kidding, but no seriously…do yourself a favor and go remedy this immediately, because you are really missing out buddy. I’m not sure which is my favorite, but the third installment, Prisoner of Azkaban, is up there on my list, mainly because this is where they introduced us to the idea of dementors.
So dementors, as explained to Harry by Professor Lupin, are described as the following:
Dementors are among the foulest creatures that walk this earth. They infest the darkest, filthiest places, they glory in decay and despair, they drain peace, hope, and happiness out of the air around them. Get too near a Dementor and every good feeling, every happy memory will be sucked out of you. If it can, the Dementor will feed on you long enough to reduce you to something like itself…soulless and evil. You will be left with nothing but the worst experiences of your life.
Haha, so I don’t know if I’m alone in this, but in my own life I definitely have come across a dementor or two, haha or three. Maybe mine didn’t look like the grim reaper variety the movie depicted them to be, but the effects seem comparable. Problem is, that here in the real (Muggle) world, we have to come up with our own version of a patronus charm in order to shield us from these vicious, soul-suckers. In talking with one of my best friends the other day, it hit me that there IS a real-life equivalent. She was talking about her own personal dementor (though we definitely didn’t use that term, but this certain character definitely epitomizes the very essence of one) and how she had just made the decision to cut this person from her life. I guess you just get to a point when you realize that certain people no longer add anything positive to your life, and you have to go into self-preservation mode. For those of you who feel at the mercy of your own dementors, try applying my friend’s wisdom as your own patronus charm – when you feel yourself getting sucked in, you just got to catch yourself. Remind yourself of what you really want, or if you don’t know what you want, just know that you deserve something more. Anyways, this friend over the last year has been kind of an inspiration and a personal hero to me, which is why I am dedicating this post, and today’s Paramore song to her. The song is called I Caught Myself, and it is basically about the danger of not knowing what you want. Enjoy this awesome live version. Sigh…dear Paramore, we keep missing each other. Please come back to the US soon so I can finally see you in concert. Shpanks!
The 10 Days of Paramore – Brick By Boring Brick
Day One
I have a confession. For years, I’ve prided myself in being a cynic, particularly when it comes to relationships. Falling in love is for the birds. Romantic comedies are for weak minded women that wistfully wait for men to come into their lives to justify their existence. They mope around at home watching movies like Valentine’s Day, when they could be watching movies of substance like Ghostbusters or Memento. Alas I have been doing some extra soul searching lately, and I’ve come to the realization that all my cynicism has been a lie. A classic case of the lady doth protest too much. Even more pathetically, the only victim of this lie has been myself. In about a month, I will be 28 years old, and as I look back on my life, all I see are the times I succumbed to my better judgment and thought, “hmmm, maybe this time will be different”. My life before existed only in a journey of broken memories of people I should not have given my heart to, all out of some insane need to feel loved. Always ending in failure. Always another tick mark of regret. I have no one to blame but myself, because since I was child, I bought into the fairytale stories.
And so for day one, I choose a song from one of my favorite bands of all time, Paramore, called Brick by Boring Brick. It’s a song that pulls at my heart strings with its hauntingly powerful lyrics, calling me out for the lying, naive little bitch that I am. Correction – was. To me, this song is about the moment that a girl decides to grow up…the moment she realizes that life is NOT a fairytale, and it is finally time to put an end to childish dreams. Time to “bury the castle”, and stop waiting for love to come around and save you. To stop being in love with love. Because who knows, one day you might just wake up from the dream and find that the home you built, brick by boring brick, isn’t really what you wanted, and the wolf that is reality, might just come and blow your dreams away.
Who wants to build their life, Brick by Boring Brick? Don’t get me wrong, I don’t believe this song is saying that love DOESN’T exist, but MAYBE, just maybe, there is a better, far more tangible “happily ever after”. Maybe the fairytale worth believing is the one where the girl discovers that she was already somebody awesome before any prince or frog came along and noticed her…to realize at the end of the day, that in order for our dreams to come true we simply just need to wake up and find that the power to do so lies solely within us.
If My Life Had a Soundtrack 