Life has been so good lately that I forgot to blog about it. Seems pretty counter-intuitive, I know. But have you ever noticed that the times when things are bad are the times that you feel most compelled to invest in some creative outlet? I think that's probably what's going on here.
Life is good. I have a job now. I'm near a good deal of my close friends (though there are some that are still far away, of course--I guess I can't have everything I want). I have some semblance of a love life (or at least it feels like I do these days). I'm being reminded constantly that I'm lucky.
I hope I'll have time to blog more because I miss writing so much, but (not to toot my own horn or anything--toot, toot) there are so many demands on my time that I can't make any promises to you, dear readers (all 3 of you). With Swedish lessons, Noctonals rehearsals, gym dates with myself, and quotidien shenanigans, what's a girl to do but write only sporadically in her low-low-low-traffic blog? (I could've said "daily shenanigans" but "quotidien" feels so much....better.)
Anyway, I'll get back to you soon.
Tuesday, November 8, 2011
Monday, March 14, 2011
The X-Factor
So I totally didn't realize auditions for The X-Factor were coming up in less than a month, and now I'm torn over whether or not I should audition because I'm totally unprepared. I could easily come up with a hundred songs I could sing for the audition, but financially, it would be totally irresponsible to go, especially since there's no guarantee any success would come from the audition. I'd have to pay for gas and tolls for the drive and a hotel room in New Jersey, and I barely have enough money to pay my bills as it is. Grrrr. Well, if it's meant to be, then I'll win the lottery before April 13th.
Speaking of these things (meaning big unrealistic dreams), I had an epiphany yesterday. I daydream too much. If you're Liz or Dana, you've already heard me talk about this, so please feel free to stop reading. The rest of you should keep reading because this gets to be some Inception type schtuff.
So, I daydream pretty much 60% of the time I'm conscious these days. No exaggeration. It started innocently and gradually with occasional daydreams of getting a nice job in Northern Virginia, being near a bunch of my friends, getting to go to Caps games every other day, having fabulous weekend plans in D.C., being able to pay my bills with no worries, and having my own little apartment--nothing fancy or expensive, but just...a place of my own. These innocent little daydreams eventually expanded into ridiculous fantasy lands in which I am the most famous and praised singer in the world, I own 60 different properties in 40 different countries, I'm fluent in 18 different languages, I end world hunger by donating ungodly amounts of money to the people who...give food to hungry people, and of course, no fantasy land would be complete unless I'm married to Nicklas Backstrom. Somehow, we're also mature like 40-year-olds but still look like we're 23 and have 3 ridiculously good-looking kids who all happen to have Nicky's lovely green eyes. All of them are also good at hockey AND singing and are genius legacy children who will later graduate from UVA with top honors (as a fall-back to their ultimately-successful-anyway singing/hockey careers). But that's beside the point.
The point is this: if you're looking at me, and I'm looking at something that is not you, I'm probably somewhere in that fantasy land, looking at my little Swedish-Asian kids. (See? Crazy Inception stuff.) It's absolutely insane. The saddest part is that the reason I'm spending so much time in my fantasy land is because I hate accepting the reality: I have no job, I have no money, I have no place to call my own, I have no love interest, a good majority of my friends are far away, I can't ever go to Caps games, I don't have enough of ANYTHING to end world hunger, I'm only really fluent in one and a half languages, and I don't earn money from singing. (I actually don't mind that I don't have 3 Swasian kids, though. At least right now.)
So even though I've always been a dreamer, and even though I don't like to be a quitter, it's definitely time for me to give up the daydreaming. It's become a vice, almost like an addiction, imagining myself with a life that's better than the one I actually have. I know that with everything that's going on in the world, this all sounds very trivial and superficial. True, I never go hungry. True, I have a bed to sleep in that is not a box on the street. True, I have so many luxuries that most people don't have. I guess the bottom line is that I just expected so much more from myself by now. I expected great, great success. I expected the fulfillment of at least one of my big dreams.
But my expectations have not been met, and I sit here disappointed and disenchanted with the oyster of the world. I have found no grains of sand with which to make pearls. Or...maybe I haven't yet found the means by which to become a pearl? I've never quite understood what, "The world is your oyster" was supposed to mean, actually...
Anyway, the daydreaming has to stop. Because I create fantasy worlds that are so much better than the real one I live in that when I have to come out of the daydream, I feel a sense of loss, like someone took away my filet mignon and gave me some roadkill for dinner. I'm not like Mal from Inception because I absolutely know the difference between what's real and what's fake, but like her, I totally enjoy the fake world better than the real one. I also don't plan on jumping out of a building and then blaming it on Leonardo DiCaprio so that he has to live in exile and has to do crazy dream experiments so that he can get that good-looking Asian man to clear his name in the US so that he can finally go home to his kids. I don't plan on doing that. So...in case you were worried.....don't be...
Topic sentence: If I'm going to be OK with my reality, I need to take the time to live in it, and maybe I can find ways to make it better. (I'm feeling sassy, so I'm gonna leave my topic sentence at the end of my essay. BOO-YAH!)
Speaking of these things (meaning big unrealistic dreams), I had an epiphany yesterday. I daydream too much. If you're Liz or Dana, you've already heard me talk about this, so please feel free to stop reading. The rest of you should keep reading because this gets to be some Inception type schtuff.
 |
| I am playing the role of Mal. If only I could have more of the pretty and less of the crazy... |
The point is this: if you're looking at me, and I'm looking at something that is not you, I'm probably somewhere in that fantasy land, looking at my little Swedish-Asian kids. (See? Crazy Inception stuff.) It's absolutely insane. The saddest part is that the reason I'm spending so much time in my fantasy land is because I hate accepting the reality: I have no job, I have no money, I have no place to call my own, I have no love interest, a good majority of my friends are far away, I can't ever go to Caps games, I don't have enough of ANYTHING to end world hunger, I'm only really fluent in one and a half languages, and I don't earn money from singing. (I actually don't mind that I don't have 3 Swasian kids, though. At least right now.)
So even though I've always been a dreamer, and even though I don't like to be a quitter, it's definitely time for me to give up the daydreaming. It's become a vice, almost like an addiction, imagining myself with a life that's better than the one I actually have. I know that with everything that's going on in the world, this all sounds very trivial and superficial. True, I never go hungry. True, I have a bed to sleep in that is not a box on the street. True, I have so many luxuries that most people don't have. I guess the bottom line is that I just expected so much more from myself by now. I expected great, great success. I expected the fulfillment of at least one of my big dreams.
But my expectations have not been met, and I sit here disappointed and disenchanted with the oyster of the world. I have found no grains of sand with which to make pearls. Or...maybe I haven't yet found the means by which to become a pearl? I've never quite understood what, "The world is your oyster" was supposed to mean, actually...
Anyway, the daydreaming has to stop. Because I create fantasy worlds that are so much better than the real one I live in that when I have to come out of the daydream, I feel a sense of loss, like someone took away my filet mignon and gave me some roadkill for dinner. I'm not like Mal from Inception because I absolutely know the difference between what's real and what's fake, but like her, I totally enjoy the fake world better than the real one. I also don't plan on jumping out of a building and then blaming it on Leonardo DiCaprio so that he has to live in exile and has to do crazy dream experiments so that he can get that good-looking Asian man to clear his name in the US so that he can finally go home to his kids. I don't plan on doing that. So...in case you were worried.....don't be...
Topic sentence: If I'm going to be OK with my reality, I need to take the time to live in it, and maybe I can find ways to make it better. (I'm feeling sassy, so I'm gonna leave my topic sentence at the end of my essay. BOO-YAH!)
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
So I'm inconsistent...
Who isn't these days? I've decided that I'm really terrible at blogging on the regular, but I will NOT let this blog die! I refuse!
Here's my excuse for not blogging more often (and I think it's a good one): many (or none) of you may know that I've struggled with multiple bouts of depression ever since I was 16 years old. For awhile, I had my head above water, and I was doing all right, but gradually, I've been sinking, and now I'm not really doing all right at all. It doesn't help, of course, that I've now reached the rough one-year mark on the job-searching front only to be met with disappointment after disappointment, rejection after rejection (one particularly exciting and potentially life-changing opportunity having been very recently snatched from me by what I assume and hope are more capable hands). But that's not exactly the root of my depression, of course. It's just a contributing factor. The rest is, well...all in my head.
Anyway, what may or may not be the source of my depression is sort of beside the point. You know those commercials about depression where the voice-over says stuff like, "Does it feel like it takes everything you have just to get out of bed in the morning?" or "Do you feel like you've lost interest in everything that used to make you happy?" You know those? Well, they're nothing like actual depression. I'm not saying those statements aren't true--they certainly are. I'm saying that explaining or describing it and actually experiencing it are two very different things. That's why I'm not going to describe it. I'm not trying to be any more of a Debbie Downer than I already have been to everyone I freaking know.
I fully believe that if you've never experienced ACTUAL depression (I'm not just talking about the blues), then you will never really be able to understand what it's like, even with the best descriptions in the world. In a way, I guess I put myself on some weird pedestal. I know what depression is like, and you don't, so THERE. It's a self-alienating disease (and yes, I consider it an actual disease), and regardless of the fact that it is a mental or emotional disease, it has several physical consequences.
BUT that's ALSO not the point of this blog. The point is that there are still small, shiny spots inside the abyss of depression, little beacons of light that manage to cheer me up, even in my darkest moments. I encountered a few of those today, and I just want to give due credit. Note: these are only the ones that I encountered today. If you think you should be on my ultimate list of rainbows and sunshine, then you probably are, but I didn't interact with you much today. Please don't be offended.
1. This person:
That's Liz, my best friend. Other than myself, she bears the brunt of my depression, I think. All day long, she and I text while she's at work (hahaha), and every time I'm feeling particularly down, all I do is moan and groan about how much my life sucks. On top of that, when she offers me encouragement, I snottily shoot her down, and I'm downright rude and unpleasant to her a lot of times. But she still loves me and tries to encourage me to be positive, and she never lashes out against me for how I treat her because she knows I'm not acting like myself. It's always easier to take things out on the people who you know will still love you afterward.
2. This picture:
I've talked about him before. Nicklas Backstrom of the Washington Capitals is pretty much a dreamboat to me (and a whole lot of other girls who are, of course, my worst enemies). So...I'm not gonna lie. Most of the "official" pictures of Nicky are actually not very flattering at all. I've labeled him the Least Photogenic Hot Dude Ever. BUT I recently (re)discovered this website capsinpictures.com, and I have to take that label off of him now. The candid shots of him that are all over this website are usually the cutest freaking pictures I have EVER SEEN. THIS particular picture actually, genuinely makes me smile. Every time I see it. He's so cute! Totes adorbs. Love him. Love this pic. Thanks, capsinpictures.com.
3. My mom:
That was my mom (with my oldest sister Teri) back in the late 70s-ish. Hee hee hee. Aren't they presh? Oddly enough, this is the only picture I have of my mom that's accessible from my computer. She still looks the same, pretty much. One of the blessings of aging Asian. Anyway, my mom has never been super affectionate. It's just not how she is. Mostly, we kids have come to accept that fact. But today she was comforting and encouraging in a way only a mother can be, and it made my day not-as-terrible as it could have been.
4. This guy:
Obvi, that's me, and that guy is my good friend Paul, and we're clearly awesome (this was YEARS ago by the way). I don't get to see him often because he lives a few states away, but he's in town this week, so he called me, and we get to hang out yayyyyyy! Paul is one of those people who is almost always entertaining to me. If he laughs at something I say or do, I feel special and hilarious. I love Paul. Love you, stupid.
5. This guy:
And this guy (on the right):
The first is Brooks Laich, the second is Alex Ovechkin. Hockey is one of those big shining beacons in my life--I look forward to hockey all the time. I could watch hockey all day, every day. Anyone who doesn't get why I'm so obsessed with hockey should just know this: I can't give any specific reasons for why I love hockey, but the fact is I love it, and it is one of the only things that makes me happy these days. So accept it. Anyway, the Caps played the Islanders tonight, and after 59 minutes of pure torment and being behind by one goal most of the time, Brooksie scored the game-tying goal with only 47 seconds left in regulation, which took us into overtime, which was ended within two minutes by a beautiful, BEAUTIFUL goal from Ovie, therefore winning the game. And any sports fan knows that the outcome of your team's game can make or break your entire day. These two men made my night, for sure. I didn't include Nicky (pictured on the left, next to Ovie) because...let's just say he didn't play his best game tonight. Hahaha. Ohhh sweet Nicky...
6. My sister and nephew:
Angela and Aidan. Despite the fact that we live together, I pretty much never see them because I keep such an odd schedule. And any day that I get to see my sister and not fight with her is a good day. :)
7. This person:
That's Eunice, another of my long-time besties. She and I got to chat for a little while today, and I'm glad we did. We don't get to talk much anymore, and I miss her. She and I always have a lot to talk about--we're able to be super silly together or super sentimental, and anytime we talk or hang out, it's always good. And it's her birthday! Happy birthday, Eunice! <3
I think that concludes the list for today. Through the cloud of depression, it's often difficult to acknowledge and appreciate the good things. I just thought it was important to take stock of all the good things that happened today. I'm going to sleep in a much happier state than I was in when I woke up. I am grateful.
Here's my excuse for not blogging more often (and I think it's a good one): many (or none) of you may know that I've struggled with multiple bouts of depression ever since I was 16 years old. For awhile, I had my head above water, and I was doing all right, but gradually, I've been sinking, and now I'm not really doing all right at all. It doesn't help, of course, that I've now reached the rough one-year mark on the job-searching front only to be met with disappointment after disappointment, rejection after rejection (one particularly exciting and potentially life-changing opportunity having been very recently snatched from me by what I assume and hope are more capable hands). But that's not exactly the root of my depression, of course. It's just a contributing factor. The rest is, well...all in my head.
Anyway, what may or may not be the source of my depression is sort of beside the point. You know those commercials about depression where the voice-over says stuff like, "Does it feel like it takes everything you have just to get out of bed in the morning?" or "Do you feel like you've lost interest in everything that used to make you happy?" You know those? Well, they're nothing like actual depression. I'm not saying those statements aren't true--they certainly are. I'm saying that explaining or describing it and actually experiencing it are two very different things. That's why I'm not going to describe it. I'm not trying to be any more of a Debbie Downer than I already have been to everyone I freaking know.
 |
| I'm not ambitious enough to Photoshop my face into this. Sorry, reader. |
I fully believe that if you've never experienced ACTUAL depression (I'm not just talking about the blues), then you will never really be able to understand what it's like, even with the best descriptions in the world. In a way, I guess I put myself on some weird pedestal. I know what depression is like, and you don't, so THERE. It's a self-alienating disease (and yes, I consider it an actual disease), and regardless of the fact that it is a mental or emotional disease, it has several physical consequences.
BUT that's ALSO not the point of this blog. The point is that there are still small, shiny spots inside the abyss of depression, little beacons of light that manage to cheer me up, even in my darkest moments. I encountered a few of those today, and I just want to give due credit. Note: these are only the ones that I encountered today. If you think you should be on my ultimate list of rainbows and sunshine, then you probably are, but I didn't interact with you much today. Please don't be offended.
1. This person:
2. This picture:
3. My mom:
4. This guy:
5. This guy:
6. My sister and nephew:
7. This person:
I think that concludes the list for today. Through the cloud of depression, it's often difficult to acknowledge and appreciate the good things. I just thought it was important to take stock of all the good things that happened today. I'm going to sleep in a much happier state than I was in when I woke up. I am grateful.
Monday, February 21, 2011
I swear I haven't given up...
I just don't have much going on right now--it's all been more of the same. I'm thinking mostly about all the same things: money, jobs, hockey, men, and friends. Oh and Sweden.
That's not to say that I'm not very creative. I've always considered myself a pretty creative person, but the last thing I want is for this blog to be artificial. I want it to reflect me, my sense of humor, my present struggles or joys or just...whatever I'm actually thinking about. I don't want to CREATE a topic just so I can have something to write about (which is one reason why I'll never be able to make money from writing).
There is something I've been thinking about though. It's something that has taken so many manifestations in my life in the last few months that I think I need to sit down and work it out. This issue is, once again, related to my friendships. But more specifically, it's about how my friendships change.
I've had the same best friend since I was ten years old. Sure, there have been times when we drifted a bit, but the last time I genuinely felt like we weren't best friends was way back in middle school, after I moved away from our neighborhood and she moved away from our town. Especially for young people, that distance should have effectively ended our friendship. I think maybe over the course of one year, we only spoke a few times, and mostly on the internet (Palace Chat, anyone?), but just because we realized we really didn't want to grow apart, somehow we both started making an effort to grow closer again. Part of it is because we could probably go for years without talking, and when we spoke again, everything would feel the same. It's inexplicable and special.
As lovely as that all sounds, I do have other close friends. I wish that I could say that I'm as attentive to all of them as I should be, but I'm not. It has nothing to do with loss of interest or loss of affection. I have only ever purposely ended one friendship in my whole life, and these days, I'm beginning to regret that decision. Like the karmic forces of the universe are paying me back for how I handled that situation. But this person I cut out of my life was horrible to me in many ways, and in the end, I think it was genuinely beneficial for both of us that we aren't friends. In actuality, I think if said forces are messing with me for any reason, it should be because I have neglected actually meaningful relationships in my life.
There's a lot more I could say on the topic, but I'm feeling conflicted and guilty right now, so I'll just leave you with my conflict and guilt. At other times I feel angry and justified, and still at others, I feel bittersweet pangs of nostalgia. The way things used to be--on one hand, reminiscing gives me a warm, fuzzy feeling inside, but on the other, it leaves me hollow because things can almost never be the way they used to be. That's why they are not still currently that way. Something changed. Something shifted. And usually that something is irreversible. I'm not saying it's always a bad change, of course, and I am definitely NOT saying that it can't be overcome or...managed, I guess is a more appropriate word. If my best friend and I had never changed or dealt with the many shifts in our friendship, then we'd still be ditching each other on the playground as 20-somethings, and that would be...awkward.
I guess the bottom line I'm trying to reach is this: I love my friends, even if I sometimes get caught up in other crap. Even though people change and relationships change, those people and those relationships are still important to me, and I can only hope that as I change, I'm still important to the people who are important to me.
That's not to say that I'm not very creative. I've always considered myself a pretty creative person, but the last thing I want is for this blog to be artificial. I want it to reflect me, my sense of humor, my present struggles or joys or just...whatever I'm actually thinking about. I don't want to CREATE a topic just so I can have something to write about (which is one reason why I'll never be able to make money from writing).
There is something I've been thinking about though. It's something that has taken so many manifestations in my life in the last few months that I think I need to sit down and work it out. This issue is, once again, related to my friendships. But more specifically, it's about how my friendships change.
I've had the same best friend since I was ten years old. Sure, there have been times when we drifted a bit, but the last time I genuinely felt like we weren't best friends was way back in middle school, after I moved away from our neighborhood and she moved away from our town. Especially for young people, that distance should have effectively ended our friendship. I think maybe over the course of one year, we only spoke a few times, and mostly on the internet (Palace Chat, anyone?), but just because we realized we really didn't want to grow apart, somehow we both started making an effort to grow closer again. Part of it is because we could probably go for years without talking, and when we spoke again, everything would feel the same. It's inexplicable and special.
As lovely as that all sounds, I do have other close friends. I wish that I could say that I'm as attentive to all of them as I should be, but I'm not. It has nothing to do with loss of interest or loss of affection. I have only ever purposely ended one friendship in my whole life, and these days, I'm beginning to regret that decision. Like the karmic forces of the universe are paying me back for how I handled that situation. But this person I cut out of my life was horrible to me in many ways, and in the end, I think it was genuinely beneficial for both of us that we aren't friends. In actuality, I think if said forces are messing with me for any reason, it should be because I have neglected actually meaningful relationships in my life.
There's a lot more I could say on the topic, but I'm feeling conflicted and guilty right now, so I'll just leave you with my conflict and guilt. At other times I feel angry and justified, and still at others, I feel bittersweet pangs of nostalgia. The way things used to be--on one hand, reminiscing gives me a warm, fuzzy feeling inside, but on the other, it leaves me hollow because things can almost never be the way they used to be. That's why they are not still currently that way. Something changed. Something shifted. And usually that something is irreversible. I'm not saying it's always a bad change, of course, and I am definitely NOT saying that it can't be overcome or...managed, I guess is a more appropriate word. If my best friend and I had never changed or dealt with the many shifts in our friendship, then we'd still be ditching each other on the playground as 20-somethings, and that would be...awkward.
I guess the bottom line I'm trying to reach is this: I love my friends, even if I sometimes get caught up in other crap. Even though people change and relationships change, those people and those relationships are still important to me, and I can only hope that as I change, I'm still important to the people who are important to me.
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
Patience is a virtue...
AND I HATE IT.
I haven't had much to talk about because my mind has been consumed by a total of two things: money (or lack thereof) and hockey. But somehow the subject of patience falls under the "money" category because I'm waiting for the day when I make wads of cash.
It's unfortunate that I've racked up some tens of thousands of dollars in student loans for something like a top-rate education that has literally gotten me nothing in return. It's more than unfortunate. It really, really sucks. My whole life, I believed I had to go to college to get a good job. Here I am, a shiny, new-ish degree in hand, and I'm jobless (more or less), while my friends who don't have college degrees are making more money than I am and receiving benefits (of which I have none) at their full-time jobs (of which I also obviously have none). I'm not saying they don't deserve those jobs--they do! I'm proud of them, and I'm glad they have those jobs! All I'm saying is I thought that with a degree I'd be a desirable candidate for SOME kind of job that earns me more than minimum-wage, even if it is JUST a liberal arts degree.
Frustrated and impatient. That's how I feel.
I haven't had much to talk about because my mind has been consumed by a total of two things: money (or lack thereof) and hockey. But somehow the subject of patience falls under the "money" category because I'm waiting for the day when I make wads of cash.
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| Preferably they will not be ones, but I'll take it... |
Frustrated and impatient. That's how I feel.
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
The glue that holds me together...
Is apparently nonexistent. This is going to be a shorter post than others. I just want to work this out a bit. I've been thinking lately about cohesion in relation to...me. I listened to my ipod on random for about two hours today. The first song was "Maybe Memories" by The Used. It's a "post-hardcore" screamy anthem, speaking to living in the present, looking toward the future, and not looking back or regretting things like eating beans before an interview or accidentally using poison ivy leaves as toilet paper (it's actually probably about former drug habits or the like, but let's just pretend it's less serious than that). To give you an idea of what that song might sound like, this is the lead singer Bert McCracken screaming (not singing) something:
So that was the first song. And I totally rocked out to it and thought about not looking back at skipping so many classes in college (wah-wah). Then the next song came on, and it was "Sexual Healing" by the great Marvin Gaye. No explanation necessary--if you don't know what "Sexual Healing" sounds like, then we probably shouldn't be friends anymore. The next song that came on was "The High Road" by Broken Bells. I actually have no idea what it's about because I only know half of the lyrics, but it's a mellow, sort of electronic but mostly just...awesome type of song. Here. The musical equivalent of judging a book by its cover. Tell me what you think they sound like:
Then after that tasty little diddy, there was Sara Bareilles with "Gravity". A sweet, heartbreaking piano ballad that makes me want to cry for days at a time (I'm still crying, in fact). Her voice-of-an-angel plus her piano-playing-of-an-angel equals best-song-ever-if-you-have-your-own-sad-love-story. Then there were others: The Starting Line (usually-upbeat pop-punk), Mumford and Sons (BANJOOOS!), Leona Lewis (crazy amazing diva singing), Jay-Z (best rapper alive--debate. Now. Go.), Sarah Brightman (her Broadway era--yes, I have showtunes on my ipod). And so on and so forth.
I actually, out loud, asked myself, "WHAT IS HAPPENING?" in all caps. There is little to no cohesion in my musical taste. There is no single element that draws these songs/artists together except, "I like this." And the lack of cohesion extends beyond my musical taste. Take this blog, for example. What is the bonding factor? It's mostly just me talking at my computer (via my fingers) about things from hockey to Sweden to woe-is-me sob stuff. There is no bonding factor except, "I like talking about this."
I guess I just have to face the fact that I'm a weirdo. I like what I like, and I don't need a reason. I just like it. SO THERE.
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| He's screaming, "I HATE SHOWERS!" Probably. Or maybe, "I'M AWESOOOOME!" |
So that was the first song. And I totally rocked out to it and thought about not looking back at skipping so many classes in college (wah-wah). Then the next song came on, and it was "Sexual Healing" by the great Marvin Gaye. No explanation necessary--if you don't know what "Sexual Healing" sounds like, then we probably shouldn't be friends anymore. The next song that came on was "The High Road" by Broken Bells. I actually have no idea what it's about because I only know half of the lyrics, but it's a mellow, sort of electronic but mostly just...awesome type of song. Here. The musical equivalent of judging a book by its cover. Tell me what you think they sound like:
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| Other than awesome, I'd say they sound...really awesome. How they make beep-beeps and boop-boops without a synthesizer present, I'll never know. |
I actually, out loud, asked myself, "WHAT IS HAPPENING?" in all caps. There is little to no cohesion in my musical taste. There is no single element that draws these songs/artists together except, "I like this." And the lack of cohesion extends beyond my musical taste. Take this blog, for example. What is the bonding factor? It's mostly just me talking at my computer (via my fingers) about things from hockey to Sweden to woe-is-me sob stuff. There is no bonding factor except, "I like talking about this."
I guess I just have to face the fact that I'm a weirdo. I like what I like, and I don't need a reason. I just like it. SO THERE.
Monday, January 31, 2011
If you don't like sports...
Just skip this one. I am not a huge sports fan. I like watching soccer when the World Cup happens. I like watching the Olympics when that stuff happens. I like watching college football, and I LOVE everything about hockey. Other than that, I'm no big sports fan, and I don't pretend to be. Definitely not even as big a hockey fan as this guy:
Anyway, all craziness aside, it's my recent intense, obsessive love for hockey that drove me to write this blog post. File this under things that make me really mad: fairweather fans. (Let's hope that guy up there is not a fairweather fan who just got really wasted one night after a Boston Bruins win.)
I may not be a huge sports fan, but the teams I support have my support through thick and thin. I don't root for teams just because they're doing a good job. So if my team is having a rough season, does that mean that my love for them becomes any less significant? I guess for the fickle and feeble of heart, supporting a team only when it's doing well seems like a pretty good option, but then what's the point? The point of supporting a team is to have someone to root for no matter what. In my opinion, a person's reasons for supporting a team can literally be ANYTHING except, "They're doing well right now."
It's no big secret that this has not been a very good season for the Washington Capitals. Of course, that is, in comparison to more recent seasons. We're 8th in the NHL as of ten minutes ago when I had to double-check the standings to make sure that my facts were indeed facts. But that doesn't sound too bad, does it? 8th in the league. At least we aren't LAST in the NHL, eh? It's this kind of looking-on-the-bright-side that seems to escape so many Caps fans. Sure, after we win a game, fans text in messages that say, "I knew you could do it!" and "There are the Caps that I know and love!" Crap like that. And when we lose...well it's just a whole different story. "Ovie sucks!" "Wake up! This is a 60-minute game!" "Where are the Caps that I know and love?" News flash: they're right there, on the ice, the same team that won that other game you were so excited about two days ago. That's still your team, if you consider yourself a fan. (For the record, Ovie totally doesn't suck, and I'm pretty sure these guys who have been playing hockey since childhood DO know that they play a 60-minute game...)
I completely understand the disappointment that comes with losing a game, but it in no way makes me question whether or not I'm supporting the right team. The disappointment is not directed at the team, as if to say, "YOU HAVE FAILED ME! FOR SHAME!" The disappointment is just an inherent effect of having lost something I wanted so badly (that would be the win, in case I'm being unclear).
Or let's see if this makes more sense: Do you love your children any less when they fail a math test? Do you love your dog any less when it poops on the rug? Do you love your mom any less when she makes roast beef for dinner when you specifically said you wanted pizza? DO YOU?! No. You love these people/animals for who they are, not for how well they perform or for the ratio of jobs well-done to jobs well-botched. Nobody's perfect, and that extends to sports teams.
I love the Capitals because I just do. I just love them. I don't care that they were in the playoffs the last three years. Well...sure, I care because I'm glad the team I love has a good recent record. But it has NOTHING to do with why I love them. I've known about the Caps for years. My best friend has been a fan for years, so I should have jumped on this train long ago, if I were only interested in how well they play. To be completely honest, I can't really pinpoint why I love them. I just do. Yes, they ARE a good team with a lot of crazy, crazy talent. But they're also close-by, they're fun to watch, they seem like good dudes, and the team itself (the Washington Capitals) is so patriotic it makes me just swell with national pride and bleed some good ol' red, white, and blue (despite the fact that I think there are only MAYBE three Americans on the team). Their mascot is a bald eagle named Slapshot. How sweet is that? They're just. The best.
So why is it that so many Caps fans are SO faithless? So we aren't doing all that well. Why does that mean that you have to put the guys down? If I, a self-proclaimed not-so-into-sports gal who has literally followed the Caps for about 2 months, can still be devoted to them during rough patches, then surely so can people who have followed the Caps for years. In fact, I STARTED following them in the middle of a rough patch. An 8-game losing streak, to be exact. And I somehow STILL loved watching them. But I read a blog today, a blog that a lot of devoted Caps fans read, one that was supposedly written by a devoted Caps fan. But the whole blog was pretty much about how much the Caps suck right now and how disappointed this "fan" was. It was the most disheartening piece of fan literature I've ever read.
I can admit the guys aren't playing their best right now, but it's not for lack of trying, as so many "fans" seem to believe. These guys want to do well, and they don't want to let their fans down. So why are we letting them down by totally turning our backs on them? If you can watch them lose a game and honestly say that you love them less or you're disappointed in them or that you can't stand watching them, then I don't think you can call yourself a fan.
And a lot of idiots are talking about how Coach Boudreau needs to be fired. THAT is one of the most ridiculous things I've heard. One not-so-good season and suddenly he needs to be fired? If we'd been having a few bad seasons consecutively, then maybe that would be a valid consideration. But ONE season? Give me a break. It took UVA I don't know how many straight-up TERRIBLE seasons to fire Al Groh. So just because we're 8th in the league, and second in the Southeast division instead of first, our coach needs to be fired? Boudreau also led the Caps to the playoffs for the last three seasons, beginning with his FIRST season with the Caps. Stupid and faithless, these critics.
The bottom line is this: if you support a team, then ACTUALLY support them. Don't turn your back and lose faith when your team is down. That's probably when they need their fans to believe in them the most. I don't think our Caps are going to be getting any better when their so-called fans are telling them how much they suck. That's called discouragement, and discouragement doesn't do anyone any good.
Mission: Accomplished. I've said most of what I wanted to say. The rest I didn't write because I couldn't figure it in coherently. So I'll just end with this: C-A-P-S CAPS CAPS CAPS!
Edited 1:30 PM: In my sleep, the hockey gods came to me and told me that in my SWEET blog (their words, not mine) I totally said we were 2nd in the conference, and I tooootally meant in the division. And I really did mean the division--it was just a slip of the tongue.....or finger...whatever. Obvi, we couldn't be 2nd in the conference. We're 8th in the league...that would have to mean 1-7 are all western conference teams. Pahaha. It was like 4 AM when I wrote this blog. I TOTALLY KNEW WHAT I WAS TALKING ABOUT! Waaaaah I hate making mistakes.
 |
| Even my love for the Caps would not extend this far... |
I may not be a huge sports fan, but the teams I support have my support through thick and thin. I don't root for teams just because they're doing a good job. So if my team is having a rough season, does that mean that my love for them becomes any less significant? I guess for the fickle and feeble of heart, supporting a team only when it's doing well seems like a pretty good option, but then what's the point? The point of supporting a team is to have someone to root for no matter what. In my opinion, a person's reasons for supporting a team can literally be ANYTHING except, "They're doing well right now."
It's no big secret that this has not been a very good season for the Washington Capitals. Of course, that is, in comparison to more recent seasons. We're 8th in the NHL as of ten minutes ago when I had to double-check the standings to make sure that my facts were indeed facts. But that doesn't sound too bad, does it? 8th in the league. At least we aren't LAST in the NHL, eh? It's this kind of looking-on-the-bright-side that seems to escape so many Caps fans. Sure, after we win a game, fans text in messages that say, "I knew you could do it!" and "There are the Caps that I know and love!" Crap like that. And when we lose...well it's just a whole different story. "Ovie sucks!" "Wake up! This is a 60-minute game!" "Where are the Caps that I know and love?" News flash: they're right there, on the ice, the same team that won that other game you were so excited about two days ago. That's still your team, if you consider yourself a fan. (For the record, Ovie totally doesn't suck, and I'm pretty sure these guys who have been playing hockey since childhood DO know that they play a 60-minute game...)
I completely understand the disappointment that comes with losing a game, but it in no way makes me question whether or not I'm supporting the right team. The disappointment is not directed at the team, as if to say, "YOU HAVE FAILED ME! FOR SHAME!" The disappointment is just an inherent effect of having lost something I wanted so badly (that would be the win, in case I'm being unclear).
Or let's see if this makes more sense: Do you love your children any less when they fail a math test? Do you love your dog any less when it poops on the rug? Do you love your mom any less when she makes roast beef for dinner when you specifically said you wanted pizza? DO YOU?! No. You love these people/animals for who they are, not for how well they perform or for the ratio of jobs well-done to jobs well-botched. Nobody's perfect, and that extends to sports teams.
I love the Capitals because I just do. I just love them. I don't care that they were in the playoffs the last three years. Well...sure, I care because I'm glad the team I love has a good recent record. But it has NOTHING to do with why I love them. I've known about the Caps for years. My best friend has been a fan for years, so I should have jumped on this train long ago, if I were only interested in how well they play. To be completely honest, I can't really pinpoint why I love them. I just do. Yes, they ARE a good team with a lot of crazy, crazy talent. But they're also close-by, they're fun to watch, they seem like good dudes, and the team itself (the Washington Capitals) is so patriotic it makes me just swell with national pride and bleed some good ol' red, white, and blue (despite the fact that I think there are only MAYBE three Americans on the team). Their mascot is a bald eagle named Slapshot. How sweet is that? They're just. The best.
So why is it that so many Caps fans are SO faithless? So we aren't doing all that well. Why does that mean that you have to put the guys down? If I, a self-proclaimed not-so-into-sports gal who has literally followed the Caps for about 2 months, can still be devoted to them during rough patches, then surely so can people who have followed the Caps for years. In fact, I STARTED following them in the middle of a rough patch. An 8-game losing streak, to be exact. And I somehow STILL loved watching them. But I read a blog today, a blog that a lot of devoted Caps fans read, one that was supposedly written by a devoted Caps fan. But the whole blog was pretty much about how much the Caps suck right now and how disappointed this "fan" was. It was the most disheartening piece of fan literature I've ever read.
I can admit the guys aren't playing their best right now, but it's not for lack of trying, as so many "fans" seem to believe. These guys want to do well, and they don't want to let their fans down. So why are we letting them down by totally turning our backs on them? If you can watch them lose a game and honestly say that you love them less or you're disappointed in them or that you can't stand watching them, then I don't think you can call yourself a fan.
And a lot of idiots are talking about how Coach Boudreau needs to be fired. THAT is one of the most ridiculous things I've heard. One not-so-good season and suddenly he needs to be fired? If we'd been having a few bad seasons consecutively, then maybe that would be a valid consideration. But ONE season? Give me a break. It took UVA I don't know how many straight-up TERRIBLE seasons to fire Al Groh. So just because we're 8th in the league, and second in the Southeast division instead of first, our coach needs to be fired? Boudreau also led the Caps to the playoffs for the last three seasons, beginning with his FIRST season with the Caps. Stupid and faithless, these critics.
The bottom line is this: if you support a team, then ACTUALLY support them. Don't turn your back and lose faith when your team is down. That's probably when they need their fans to believe in them the most. I don't think our Caps are going to be getting any better when their so-called fans are telling them how much they suck. That's called discouragement, and discouragement doesn't do anyone any good.
Mission: Accomplished. I've said most of what I wanted to say. The rest I didn't write because I couldn't figure it in coherently. So I'll just end with this: C-A-P-S CAPS CAPS CAPS!
Edited 1:30 PM: In my sleep, the hockey gods came to me and told me that in my SWEET blog (their words, not mine) I totally said we were 2nd in the conference, and I tooootally meant in the division. And I really did mean the division--it was just a slip of the tongue.....or finger...whatever. Obvi, we couldn't be 2nd in the conference. We're 8th in the league...that would have to mean 1-7 are all western conference teams. Pahaha. It was like 4 AM when I wrote this blog. I TOTALLY KNEW WHAT I WAS TALKING ABOUT! Waaaaah I hate making mistakes.
Thursday, January 27, 2011
Here's to you, Sweden...
So here it is. A tribute to Sweden. I promise that not all of my posts will be as long as or longer than standard novellas, but how can you really fit all the greatness of Sweden into a short blog post? That's just it. You freaking can't. It's impossible.
My infatuation with Sweden began sometime around...the time I realized that Swedish men are totally beautiful. That was probably sometime in 2010, when I became obsessed with one Mr. Alexander Skarsgård:
I KNOW what you're thinking. Thank you, Sweden. Thank you for that.
So steadily over the last year, this infatuation has developed into a full-fledged love affair. However, the deeper I delve into this entirely single-sided relationship with a Scandinavian country (personification, anyone?), the more I begin to realize that Sweden has been priming me for this "relationship" basically my whole freaking life.
I offer you now a chronology of my long and ever-evolving relationship with Sweden. NOTE: I have unfortunately never been to Sweden. The following is based purely on good ol' American exposure to Swedish things and online research (Wikipedia).
This story begins approximately 2 decades ago, when I was 3 years old. Except then fast forward to maybe a few years later when I would actually remember more things. Does ANYONE remember this?
NO CAPTION NECESSARY. That's the GERMAN version of a little SWEDISH girl named Pippi Långstrump AKA Pippi freaking Longstocking. You remember, remember? Crazy braids that would not lie flat but instead completely defied all laws of gravity and stood up (presumably to highlight the fact that Pippi is JUST that unconventionally SWEET). She was...awesome. I don't remember much about her except that I liked her and that catchy song, "Pippi Longstocking is coming into your world, the freckle-faced, red-headed girl..." Ahhhh, childhood. I think I also liked that she was some kind of troublemaker. How neat. Anyway, this was step one. Sweden's earliest attempt to appeal to my super-obsessive personality.
Sometime in this same era, a new Swedish pop band called Ace of Base hit the US charts with AWESOME songs that TO THIS DAY, most of us can still sing by heart. "The Sign" and "Don't Turn Around". Both awesome. I think "The Sign" is probably more popular. I think I actually liked that other one better. But anyway...I'm not going to post a picture because, let's be honest, no one really knew what they looked like. Or maybe that was just me. But you can probably bet they were blonde. Though that's also probably just me perpetuating stereotypes.
Fast forward again to when I was like...8 or something. All I really remember was that I lived in Minnesota, which is cold (like Sweden--coincidence? Yes. But still.) and also, according to Wikipedia, boasts a population that is almost 10% Swedish. Awesome. Anyway...that's not even the point. The point is my brother, at some point during our 2 years in Minnesota, became obsessed with legendary Swedish pop group ABBA. (I hope you don't mind me saying it, Michael.)
I owe all of my knowledge about ABBA and their music to my big brother. Whether you like ABBA or not, you know that "Dancing Queen" is either a song you hate to love or love to hate. It is played at EVERY event that has a DJ. It's about as ubiquitous a party song as "Shout" or "The Electric Slide". I actually genuinely really enjoy ABBA, in spite of the fact that they are responsible for "Dancing Queen". I listen to them on a semi-regular basis. Because of my brother. I mean really, though...do you not cry when these ladies sing "The Winner Takes It All"? I just cried a little trying to pick out my favorite lyric. And then I couldn't even choose a favorite lyric. Geez, Sweden. You're really doing a number on me.
I guess ABBA overshadows the fact that The Cardigans are also from Sweden--remember that song "Lovefool" that was in Leo DiCaprio's version of Romeo and Juliet? "Love me, love me, say that you love me...." Everyone knows it. And probably loves it. Yeah. It never would have happened if Sweden hadn't happened.
Anyway, the Jessica-Sweden chronology starts to get a little fuzzier now, after moving from Minnesota to Virginia. At some point, I started watching HGTV home makeover shows, and consequently, I discovered that Ikea is awesome. You may hate it. But you'd be a minority. Ikea--the home furnishing sensation from SWEDEN, famous for its clean lines and modern design elements and also for DIY instructions that a lot of people think are hard to read. I've put together plenty of stuff from Ikea. It's not rocket science. You try writing instructions that literally have to be legible to people from every country ever. The art of diagramming--not so easy.
Around the same time that I discovered Ikea, I actually WENT to an Ikea and thereby discovered Swedish meatballs and lingonberry jam. Holy crap. Unreal. It's the most delicious ball-of-meat-smothered-in-gravy that you'll ever have with a fruit-based sauce on the side. Those Swedes really broke the mold with that balls-and-berries combo.
Skip ahead to college. At some point, my friend Lauren mentioned "The Final Countdown" to me. It's one of those quintessential hair-band songs that everyone knows, but most people don't know where it came from.
Well...if you've read any of this blog or even just the title, then you know it came from Sweden. Or rather, the song's writers/performers Europe came from Sweden. Which is in Europe. No chance of being misled to believe these guys are from any other continent. Anyway, this song is totally awesome. Epic, some might say. I'm just gonna leave it at awesome.
I could literally do an entire blog on music from Sweden. We also have the more obscure but still way awesome bands The Hives and The Sounds. I won't post more pics or vids, but look them up. They're both pretty sweet-ish. Ahahaha. Sweet-ish. Swedish. Ohhh, I kill myself.
So...I'm skipping a lot of things, I know, but I'm pretty sure my chronology is long enough for...well...everyone. Jump ahead to 2010-ish and my discovery of/falling-in-love with Alexander Skarsgård (see above for sexy tux picture). Simply put, he's beautiful and actually talented and enjoys not having many clothes on while on camera, which is nice for my eye-parts.
Then there are the Stieg Larsson books, the Millennium Trilogy, the first of which I have just read. These are really good. These have me thinking more and more about Sweden in historical/etymological terms (have you noticed a lot of these names have the same suffixes? Like "strom" or "sson"?) and basically geeking out over Sweden. Thanks Stieg. R.I.P.
Then there's a hodge-podge of other things I appreciate about Sweden: the colors of its flag (blue and yellow--actually one of my favorite color combos ever), the Swedish chef from the Muppets ("Börk, börk, börk!"), some of my friends, one very small proportion of my blood (thanks unknown ancestor), and then the godfather of all of my favorite Swedish things and probably the most recent addition to the list...
Its contributions to the world of hockey. Yes, I love hockey. Some unbelievable percentage of NHL (and otherwise) players are Swedish. Including this guy:
Who is also this guy:
That's Nicklas Bäckström. Number 19. Washington Capitals. Center. 23 years old. 6'1". 210 lbs. Really, really good at what he does. Sweet. Dedicated. Generous. Uneducated but still very smart. Cutie-patootie. My future husband. Swedish. He makes me want to learn Swedish so that I can meet him and impress him with my Swedish-speaking abilities. We're gonna get married and then make adorable little Asian-Swedish babies. I've never seen that before, but I bet it would be awesome. Oh, my future children, you're so cute and part Swedish.
Sigh. So, that's all I have to say right now. This blog is ridiculous, but I'm not even about to apologize. I love Sweden. If I had a glass of beer or wine right now, I would raise it to you, Sweden. But all I have is a bottle of Diet Dr. Pepper. I will instead raise this bottle to you. Skål! (Which means, "Cheers!" by the way...)
 |
| "I'm so awesome I amaze myself." |
My infatuation with Sweden began sometime around...the time I realized that Swedish men are totally beautiful. That was probably sometime in 2010, when I became obsessed with one Mr. Alexander Skarsgård:
 |
| "I'm Swedish, I'm sexy. Deal with it." |
So steadily over the last year, this infatuation has developed into a full-fledged love affair. However, the deeper I delve into this entirely single-sided relationship with a Scandinavian country (personification, anyone?), the more I begin to realize that Sweden has been priming me for this "relationship" basically my whole freaking life.
I offer you now a chronology of my long and ever-evolving relationship with Sweden. NOTE: I have unfortunately never been to Sweden. The following is based purely on good ol' American exposure to Swedish things and online research (Wikipedia).
This story begins approximately 2 decades ago, when I was 3 years old. Except then fast forward to maybe a few years later when I would actually remember more things. Does ANYONE remember this?
NO CAPTION NECESSARY. That's the GERMAN version of a little SWEDISH girl named Pippi Långstrump AKA Pippi freaking Longstocking. You remember, remember? Crazy braids that would not lie flat but instead completely defied all laws of gravity and stood up (presumably to highlight the fact that Pippi is JUST that unconventionally SWEET). She was...awesome. I don't remember much about her except that I liked her and that catchy song, "Pippi Longstocking is coming into your world, the freckle-faced, red-headed girl..." Ahhhh, childhood. I think I also liked that she was some kind of troublemaker. How neat. Anyway, this was step one. Sweden's earliest attempt to appeal to my super-obsessive personality.
Sometime in this same era, a new Swedish pop band called Ace of Base hit the US charts with AWESOME songs that TO THIS DAY, most of us can still sing by heart. "The Sign" and "Don't Turn Around". Both awesome. I think "The Sign" is probably more popular. I think I actually liked that other one better. But anyway...I'm not going to post a picture because, let's be honest, no one really knew what they looked like. Or maybe that was just me. But you can probably bet they were blonde. Though that's also probably just me perpetuating stereotypes.
Fast forward again to when I was like...8 or something. All I really remember was that I lived in Minnesota, which is cold (like Sweden--coincidence? Yes. But still.) and also, according to Wikipedia, boasts a population that is almost 10% Swedish. Awesome. Anyway...that's not even the point. The point is my brother, at some point during our 2 years in Minnesota, became obsessed with legendary Swedish pop group ABBA. (I hope you don't mind me saying it, Michael.)
 |
| Not to be used as evidence of beautiful Swedish men, necessarily. But how about them foxy ladies? Ehhh? |
I owe all of my knowledge about ABBA and their music to my big brother. Whether you like ABBA or not, you know that "Dancing Queen" is either a song you hate to love or love to hate. It is played at EVERY event that has a DJ. It's about as ubiquitous a party song as "Shout" or "The Electric Slide". I actually genuinely really enjoy ABBA, in spite of the fact that they are responsible for "Dancing Queen". I listen to them on a semi-regular basis. Because of my brother. I mean really, though...do you not cry when these ladies sing "The Winner Takes It All"? I just cried a little trying to pick out my favorite lyric. And then I couldn't even choose a favorite lyric. Geez, Sweden. You're really doing a number on me.
I guess ABBA overshadows the fact that The Cardigans are also from Sweden--remember that song "Lovefool" that was in Leo DiCaprio's version of Romeo and Juliet? "Love me, love me, say that you love me...." Everyone knows it. And probably loves it. Yeah. It never would have happened if Sweden hadn't happened.
Anyway, the Jessica-Sweden chronology starts to get a little fuzzier now, after moving from Minnesota to Virginia. At some point, I started watching HGTV home makeover shows, and consequently, I discovered that Ikea is awesome. You may hate it. But you'd be a minority. Ikea--the home furnishing sensation from SWEDEN, famous for its clean lines and modern design elements and also for DIY instructions that a lot of people think are hard to read. I've put together plenty of stuff from Ikea. It's not rocket science. You try writing instructions that literally have to be legible to people from every country ever. The art of diagramming--not so easy.
Around the same time that I discovered Ikea, I actually WENT to an Ikea and thereby discovered Swedish meatballs and lingonberry jam. Holy crap. Unreal. It's the most delicious ball-of-meat-smothered-in-gravy that you'll ever have with a fruit-based sauce on the side. Those Swedes really broke the mold with that balls-and-berries combo.
Skip ahead to college. At some point, my friend Lauren mentioned "The Final Countdown" to me. It's one of those quintessential hair-band songs that everyone knows, but most people don't know where it came from.
Well...if you've read any of this blog or even just the title, then you know it came from Sweden. Or rather, the song's writers/performers Europe came from Sweden. Which is in Europe. No chance of being misled to believe these guys are from any other continent. Anyway, this song is totally awesome. Epic, some might say. I'm just gonna leave it at awesome.
I could literally do an entire blog on music from Sweden. We also have the more obscure but still way awesome bands The Hives and The Sounds. I won't post more pics or vids, but look them up. They're both pretty sweet-ish. Ahahaha. Sweet-ish. Swedish. Ohhh, I kill myself.
So...I'm skipping a lot of things, I know, but I'm pretty sure my chronology is long enough for...well...everyone. Jump ahead to 2010-ish and my discovery of/falling-in-love with Alexander Skarsgård (see above for sexy tux picture). Simply put, he's beautiful and actually talented and enjoys not having many clothes on while on camera, which is nice for my eye-parts.
Then there are the Stieg Larsson books, the Millennium Trilogy, the first of which I have just read. These are really good. These have me thinking more and more about Sweden in historical/etymological terms (have you noticed a lot of these names have the same suffixes? Like "strom" or "sson"?) and basically geeking out over Sweden. Thanks Stieg. R.I.P.
Then there's a hodge-podge of other things I appreciate about Sweden: the colors of its flag (blue and yellow--actually one of my favorite color combos ever), the Swedish chef from the Muppets ("Börk, börk, börk!"), some of my friends, one very small proportion of my blood (thanks unknown ancestor), and then the godfather of all of my favorite Swedish things and probably the most recent addition to the list...
Its contributions to the world of hockey. Yes, I love hockey. Some unbelievable percentage of NHL (and otherwise) players are Swedish. Including this guy:
 |
| Playin' hockey, bein' Swedish... |
 |
| More intense than camping. In tents. |
Sigh. So, that's all I have to say right now. This blog is ridiculous, but I'm not even about to apologize. I love Sweden. If I had a glass of beer or wine right now, I would raise it to you, Sweden. But all I have is a bottle of Diet Dr. Pepper. I will instead raise this bottle to you. Skål! (Which means, "Cheers!" by the way...)
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
Coming Soon...
A tribute to Sweden. It's gonna happen. In the next day(s). Just compiling my list of things I LOVE about Sweden. Sigh.
For the record, I've never been to Sweden. I love a lot of Swedish things though. I think we all love a lot of Swedish things. Ikea, Abba, meatballs...that's just the tip of the big Swedish iceberg.
Stay tuned for the rest.
For the record, I've never been to Sweden. I love a lot of Swedish things though. I think we all love a lot of Swedish things. Ikea, Abba, meatballs...that's just the tip of the big Swedish iceberg.
Stay tuned for the rest.
Friday, January 21, 2011
It's a late night...
Actually, this is quite early for me. I am and always will be a night owl. Mornings totally suck for me, and I can't explain it to save my life. Everything before 11 AM just feels like death, even when I've had ample sleep with sweet, sweet dreams, a brisk walk and shower, and a nutritious and balanced breakfast (though these things rarely happen, if ever). Sure, I can function and be a person before 11 AM. I can read and do math. I can even probably do more extraordinary things like...sing or be profound. But right around 11 AM is when my brain really starts to fire. At about 3 PM, it slows down again (delayed food coma from lunch, brain-nap time), and then it gets progressively faster until around this time. The witching hour (but not the scary, evil kind). The time between midnight and 3 AM is when I'm usually at my prime. It's terribly inconvenient because regular people are sleeping right about now...
I am not regular people. I never have been, and I hope I never will be. I like to think a lot. I tend to think too much, to be honest, which is usually not a good thing. It's generally around this time that I think the most. I start to get really reflective and/or existential. Do I exist? Sure. Am I doing a good job of existing? Debatable, but as long as I'm not killing things or stealing, I think I'm doing all right. Do other people like my existence? Well, I sure hope so because if they don't, then what's the freakin' point? (This is usually an internal discourse, but sometimes I have to talk out loud. That's actually not a joke. 100% true.)
Anyway, what is the freakin' point? When all is said and done, what is MOST important to me? (I ask myself...sometimes out loud.) When I'm on my death bed, what will I be thinking about? What would I miss most about living? It's not money or art or even music or hockey. It's the relationships I've built. But why are these so, so important to me? Sometimes they feel like such a burden. These relationships tend to intersect and tangle so much that I don't even remember how I met a lot of my friends. Somehow, there are some distinct spheres of relationships in my life, but they all seem to collide and overlap like a giant, 3D Venn Diagram.
Frankly, it's exhausting. It's not exhausting simply to have these relationships. What's exhausting is to feel like I want to make everyone happy, like I have to be someone different around some people, like I have to hide things about myself from others. And the overlapping and tangling complicates things because if I act more subdued around one sphere and that sphere meets another sphere, where my sense of humor is usually unbridled, then Sphere One starts to think I'm insane. See? Exhausting. And yes, I did just use Paint to make a Venn Diagram.
Sigh. In the end, I know it's really beautiful (like WAY more beautiful than my beautiful Venn Diagram up there). When you look at the big picture (not the picture up there, but the metaphorical kind), these people that I've mentally placed in the imaginary Venn Diagram all like and/or love me. So why hide who I am? What have these people done to make me believe that they won't still love me when they find out I'm not perfect? (In case you haven't found out yet, I just totally spilled the beans.)
The bottom line is I hide things about myself, I censor myself, I pander, and I tell white lies because at my core, I care more about other people liking me than I do about liking myself. As sad as it sounds, it's a truth and an obstacle that must be overcome. I'm not, in any way, trying to say that these relationships are ONLY meaningful because they validate me. They are so much more than that, obviously. But the fact that they do validate me while I can't even truly accept myself or feel a sense of belonging in my own skin...this is troubling. I only believe I have good qualities, that I'm worth liking because other people do indeed like me, not because I see these qualities myself. Who hopes to find validation in other people rather than in herself? An unhappy lady, that's who.
My one resolution this year is simple and yet so, so complicated. I've only told one person what this resolution is, but maybe it's better to get it down in writing.
I realize that this post is pretty sad to read, but I'm not writing it to seek sympathy or encouragement from anyone. I'm pretty sure it probably doesn't even make sense to a lot of other people. But that doesn't matter because it makes sense to me--isn't that the point? I'm writing it for myself, to get to the heart of what made 2010 a bad year.
I should not feel the need to hide pieces of myself in order to please people. I can't please everyone. This is my life, and only I can live it. Yes, there are good people in my life who want the best for me, and I need to be considerate of them and their opinions. But I really need to focus on learning to like who I am right now, regardless of how others feel about me or my path in life, and hopefully the person I become on my life-path will like herself too.
For the record, I love you guys, and I'm grateful for years of validation. I just need to be able to say that to myself now. Here's to 2011.
I am not regular people. I never have been, and I hope I never will be. I like to think a lot. I tend to think too much, to be honest, which is usually not a good thing. It's generally around this time that I think the most. I start to get really reflective and/or existential. Do I exist? Sure. Am I doing a good job of existing? Debatable, but as long as I'm not killing things or stealing, I think I'm doing all right. Do other people like my existence? Well, I sure hope so because if they don't, then what's the freakin' point? (This is usually an internal discourse, but sometimes I have to talk out loud. That's actually not a joke. 100% true.)
Anyway, what is the freakin' point? When all is said and done, what is MOST important to me? (I ask myself...sometimes out loud.) When I'm on my death bed, what will I be thinking about? What would I miss most about living? It's not money or art or even music or hockey. It's the relationships I've built. But why are these so, so important to me? Sometimes they feel like such a burden. These relationships tend to intersect and tangle so much that I don't even remember how I met a lot of my friends. Somehow, there are some distinct spheres of relationships in my life, but they all seem to collide and overlap like a giant, 3D Venn Diagram.
 |
| Like this, except bigger and harder to read. Family not pictured. |
Frankly, it's exhausting. It's not exhausting simply to have these relationships. What's exhausting is to feel like I want to make everyone happy, like I have to be someone different around some people, like I have to hide things about myself from others. And the overlapping and tangling complicates things because if I act more subdued around one sphere and that sphere meets another sphere, where my sense of humor is usually unbridled, then Sphere One starts to think I'm insane. See? Exhausting. And yes, I did just use Paint to make a Venn Diagram.
Sigh. In the end, I know it's really beautiful (like WAY more beautiful than my beautiful Venn Diagram up there). When you look at the big picture (not the picture up there, but the metaphorical kind), these people that I've mentally placed in the imaginary Venn Diagram all like and/or love me. So why hide who I am? What have these people done to make me believe that they won't still love me when they find out I'm not perfect? (In case you haven't found out yet, I just totally spilled the beans.)
The bottom line is I hide things about myself, I censor myself, I pander, and I tell white lies because at my core, I care more about other people liking me than I do about liking myself. As sad as it sounds, it's a truth and an obstacle that must be overcome. I'm not, in any way, trying to say that these relationships are ONLY meaningful because they validate me. They are so much more than that, obviously. But the fact that they do validate me while I can't even truly accept myself or feel a sense of belonging in my own skin...this is troubling. I only believe I have good qualities, that I'm worth liking because other people do indeed like me, not because I see these qualities myself. Who hopes to find validation in other people rather than in herself? An unhappy lady, that's who.
My one resolution this year is simple and yet so, so complicated. I've only told one person what this resolution is, but maybe it's better to get it down in writing.
New Year's Resolution 2011: Be happy.
I realize that this post is pretty sad to read, but I'm not writing it to seek sympathy or encouragement from anyone. I'm pretty sure it probably doesn't even make sense to a lot of other people. But that doesn't matter because it makes sense to me--isn't that the point? I'm writing it for myself, to get to the heart of what made 2010 a bad year.
I should not feel the need to hide pieces of myself in order to please people. I can't please everyone. This is my life, and only I can live it. Yes, there are good people in my life who want the best for me, and I need to be considerate of them and their opinions. But I really need to focus on learning to like who I am right now, regardless of how others feel about me or my path in life, and hopefully the person I become on my life-path will like herself too.
For the record, I love you guys, and I'm grateful for years of validation. I just need to be able to say that to myself now. Here's to 2011.
This is what happens when my hands are idle...
Like some people, I have a lot of things going on inside my noggin. I'm happy to say that most of the time I find those things interesting enough to write down. When I was younger and really didn't know myself at all, I kept a diary. I spoke to it like it was a person, which in retrospect is really creepy. But after awhile, the pages either ran out or I just stopped caring. In fact, the latter is probably much more likely. The bottom line is, diaries don't work for me, but I need somewhere to write things, and this seems like a good place to start.
So since I'm not good at being not-myself, here's the deal with this blog: I'm going to be 100% honest all the time, starting now. Here are some things about me:
1. Many of you may not like to hear this, but I started smoking when I was about 19 years old. By the time I was 20-ish, I was smoking a pack-a-day. A year later, I was smoking even more than that. You can see where this is going, right? Probably. Actually, maybe not. Today, I am smoke-free. I AM SO PROUD I WANT TO SHOUT IT FROM THE ROOFTOPS! But unfortunately, I've been trying (probably unsuccessfully) to hide the fact that I was a smoker from several people in my life. Imagine my dismay when I couldn't post, "I NEED A CIGARETTE!" on my Facebook status on day 2 of that quitting trip. It was significant. The dismay, that is. But I am dismay-less now! And more-or-less smoke-free (with the help of encouraging friends, Orbit gum, bottled water, and my magical antidepressant).
2. I am on an antidepressant and probably will be for the rest of my life. If I'm close to you, then you know this about me already. In fact, If I'm close to you, feel free to stop reading this because you know all of this anyway. The sad, sad truth is I have been clinically depressed since high school. Depression marred my college experience. I wouldn't wish it upon my worst enemy. It has changed me as a person, and it has undoubtedly changed my entire future. But we'll return to futures, destinies, fates, etc. at a later time (probably).
It has been a long-established truth that try as I might, I can't ever become "popular" online. I've had blogs before that only I ever really read, and if other people read them, it was because they were depressingly bored or probably stupid. I posted about things like having crushes on boys and...being mad at my friends. It was really, really stupid. But the fact is, aside from the fact that my old blogs were all...stupid, people just don't seem to like the online persona I have come to create, and to be honest, that concerns me a little more than it should. I mean really, I can be ANYONE I want to be online, and you STILL don't like me? That's really discouraging. I know people (person) who has an unsettling amount of success with her online persona. I don't envy her that, but it does make me wonder what her online persona has that mine doesn't. (I've named mine Peaches...just now. I did that just now.) Well, hers has confidence, and Peaches relies heavily on self-deprecation (not to be confused with self-defecation eww). Hers has lots of pictures that look nothing like her, and Peaches has pictures that look...well...they mostly just look like me. (I couldn't find a more recent picture on my computer, but I haven't changed much since I was 17, except for that pesky 50 lbs. I've been trying to lose.) Hers is actually pretty smart and has lots of friends, where Peaches pretends to be dumb and also pretends she is lonely all the time...
So since I'm not good at being not-myself, here's the deal with this blog: I'm going to be 100% honest all the time, starting now. Here are some things about me:
1. Many of you may not like to hear this, but I started smoking when I was about 19 years old. By the time I was 20-ish, I was smoking a pack-a-day. A year later, I was smoking even more than that. You can see where this is going, right? Probably. Actually, maybe not. Today, I am smoke-free. I AM SO PROUD I WANT TO SHOUT IT FROM THE ROOFTOPS! But unfortunately, I've been trying (probably unsuccessfully) to hide the fact that I was a smoker from several people in my life. Imagine my dismay when I couldn't post, "I NEED A CIGARETTE!" on my Facebook status on day 2 of that quitting trip. It was significant. The dismay, that is. But I am dismay-less now! And more-or-less smoke-free (with the help of encouraging friends, Orbit gum, bottled water, and my magical antidepressant).
2. I am on an antidepressant and probably will be for the rest of my life. If I'm close to you, then you know this about me already. In fact, If I'm close to you, feel free to stop reading this because you know all of this anyway. The sad, sad truth is I have been clinically depressed since high school. Depression marred my college experience. I wouldn't wish it upon my worst enemy. It has changed me as a person, and it has undoubtedly changed my entire future. But we'll return to futures, destinies, fates, etc. at a later time (probably).
3. The Newdos also changed me as a person. "What are the Newdos?" you ask? The Newdos (pronounced noo-dohz) are...is...are...were...are my a cappella group. Yes. I was in an a cappella group in college:
 |
| The New Dominions aka "The Newdos" |
Oh, wait. That was from when I was a middle-aged man.
 |
| The Newdos from the Era of the Dinosaurs or 2006-ish |
That's more like it. Ain't we purdy? Yes, we are. Many of these people (and many others who are not pictured because they weren't in the group during this particular concert) made me better in pretty much every way possible. They made me a better singer and performer, a better comedienne, a better friend, a better leader, a better follower, a better student, a better person. And they only judge you if you suck in some way. And even then, they'll probably still like you. Or at least be nice to you.
4. I have a best friend who has been my best friend since we were kids, and we haven't lived in the same town since about 2 years after we met (we met 13 years ago). It's a phenomenon I can't explain, but it's almost like we share the same mind sometimes. We will more often than not be wearing the exact same color nail polish on accident. Or will be thinking/saying similar things at similar times and will realize this coincidence because we were both about to tell the same exact story at the same time. It's seriously eerie. Anyway, I don't even have to talk about how she's changed me as a person because I'm probably only still a person because of her.
5. I have siblings. Two sisters, one brother. They more-or-less raised me. They're the reason I ever even became a person. That's not to say I don't have parents. I do. But in terms of emotional rearing, they were...not as significant as the siblings. We don't always get along, but we do always love each other.
That's just the tip of this crazy iceberg. It's 4 in the morning. My idle hands have created this monster (call this the devil's workshop, I guess--heh heh, see what I did there?). I've now re-watched the Washington Capitals beat the New York Islanders for the second time today (meaning I watched the game again, not that they played twice and won both times, though that would be pretty sick). By the way, I really, really like hockey. This is a new development. Some people blame HBO's 24/7 Pens/Caps Road to the Winter Classic special (which I have seen about a dozen times). But I must defend my own honor and the honor of all those involved. I blame my best friend. Yes, it's true, she has been obsessed with the Caps for years, and I only really just got into the Caps AFTER the HBO thing started, but it was not BECAUSE of the HBO thing. I started watching a game one day in December just because, and I fell in love, even though we lost. I would say it's because I was suffering nicotine withdrawal and needed to replace that addiction with another, but I think it's just...meant to be. Jessie + Hockey = MFEO. Deal with it.
Bed time. Big things are about to happen. Not in my bed. I just mean...in the near future. I hope.
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