Inspirational advice for 2014

F*ck off with the raisins, already

Once upon a time, I was looking through notes I've kept on my phone (and by once upon a time, I mean Monday and by kept on my phone, I mean "I wrote them on this here gadget thingy because my short term memory fails me due to years of excessive alcohol intake and general shenanigans so I can't remember shit.") I write everything on here: song and band names I want to come back to, random writing tidbits, things my niece has told me (verbatim, "You have to take your TOYS with you to WORK, Auntie, so you don't get bored" as I was being shoved a fistful of tiny plastic dinosaurs), quotes, etc. As I was reviewing a few items, I came across a phrase I don't remember writing, thinking, or even remembering:

"Either eat the grape, or make some wine - fuck off with the raisins, already."

Fairly proud of myself for being so clever. I'm eloquent as shit.

I didn't feel like writing last month. The end of summer in Arizona always means impatience, irritability and more impatience. The weather is still sticky and gross and sticky. And gross. I wait for the weather to get nicer so I can return to hiking, feeling more awake and less sluggish. But for me this year, the end of summer also meant the end of a friendship I thought I was going to have for a long, long time, and I was sad that it finally did.

I was friends with him for a good deal of my life down here in the AZ. 6+ years, in fact. But more than that, I loved him. Still do. Not in the same way, mind you; I care a great deal for him and I hope he will find his happiness, but I couldn't keep going with our relationship the way it was. We'd be friends, then he would get a girlfriend and ignore me, I would hate his guts, they'd break up, we would flirt, my feelings would resurface, he'd take advantage of my feelings for him being what they were, repeat 20 times. (I promise, I am going to make the connection here shortly.) Essentially, I cared a lot more about him in the end than he did for me, and it was draining. But I also believe that my allowing him to stand in my romantic doorway, so to speak, I blocked any other potential for a connection for someone pretty great. As the saying also goes, in the doorway of life, either get in or stay outside, but don't linger in the doorway and block traffic.

Don't ever do that. Don't ever get caught in the trap of allowing someone else full access to your heart if they don't appreciate it. There are so many (repeat, SO MANY) awesome people who you will meet on this grand adventure that is life that will adore you for who you are, in your weird candy coated sugary covering of weirdness and all. Granted, I allowed him to linger in my world far longer than I should have, but he was a friend. A friend who, in the end, made me feel far worse while being a part of his life than removing me from it. And that's how I knew it was over. When being around someone and involved in their life makes you feel worse than not having the person in it, well...it's essentially over. And I was done.

There is a ton more to the story that I am omitting due to not wanting a broken wrist from typing, and of course, I don't hate him. I harbor absolutely zero negative feelings for him, and I still care very much. But the moment that I made the decision to free myself was when I truly was. I ultimately found out that this separation did not make me as sad as I thought it would. An enormous weight lifted from me that I haven't felt in 6 years...and that's a LONG time to feel like anything other than yourself. 

Now if you'll excuse me, I need to make more tea, since my voice is almost gone from excessive screaming at the Depeche Mode show last night.

But remember - You are too valuable to be someone's "maybe" and not someone's "someone." You deserve to be someone's EVERYTHING.

Fuck off with the raisins already.

Serious post is serious

I'm concerned.

I worry too much anyway, but I'm not just worried about me. I'm included, but I'm concerned for us. All of us. All of the people everywhere -especially in the United States- because I have no other country of origin to compare. So I'm going to assume it's the globe. OK, so I'm worried about the world.

Well, shit. This is going to go well.

(Before I delve too deeply and, like Russell Crowe in "Les Miserables," you just want to scream "STOP SINGING AND THROW YOURSELF OFF THE BUILDING/BRIDGE/THINGY ALREADY," I just want to say that I too am guilty of everything I'm worried about. And yet, I continue to do it, so perhaps it's more of a cry for help that anything else. HALP. Kidding. I'm OK. Sort of. I'm attempting change.)

Put your phones away. Seriously. Put. Them. Away.

I'm not saying when you're alone and you just want some glorious Pinterest Facebook Tumblr InstaGram Porn messaging time - by all means, bust that nerd hermit persona out - but when you're out and about, with your friends, having a casual conversation, or in a group with people, or even if someone is talking to you at work, put your fucking phone away. I KNOW I'm a full on hypocrite for saying this, but we as a collective have lost the ability to connect with those closest to us, and I for one am planning to do something about it.

I don't want to be one of those people. I really don't. I see myself, at a happy hour with friends, or in a room with people all on their phones, or being in the middle of a conversation where I, or the other individual has picked up their phone and randomly started texting away. Mid-conversation. Like, are the people I'm hanging out with that dull, boring or uninteresting that I have to distract myself otherwise? ABSOLUTELY NOT. For the first time in my life I feel as though I have a close set of friends who are beautiful, funny, caring and awesome. Why in the HELL would I need a distraction from that? Yet there I am, wherever I go, absentmindedly checking my phone for a missed text, alert, message, weather, time...and it's rude. I'M RUDE. AND I'M SORRY.

There are going to be times when I will want to show a friend a picture, or some such similar thing, and I think (I think?) that's allowed. If you're having a discussion, and you want to pull up something relevant to it, I think that's OK in my book. But then the phone goes away. No calls. No texts. No "distracting" oneself from the original goal- to go out and socialize and be normal human beings with other human beings. And like, talk and stuff. About current events. About a book you're reading, or about a really great new friend you met in yoga class. Hell, even cat stories. Whatever. Just TALK. Actually focus on what the other person is saying and learn from them. I know that I stare at a screen in one form or another over 12 hours a day, and it's not good. NO WONDER I have issues meeting people's gazes...If it wasn't for the fabulous girls-happy-hour-night-out yesterday, I'd be hard pressed to think of a time when I really just sat with people and...INTERACTED. (P.S. We did NOT do any photos such as the below example )

LOTS OF CAPS IN THIS POST. 

I realize technology isn't going away any time soon. It's only rapidly increasing in attainability and volume, so there won't be any getting away from that. But when it's easier (per say) to comment on a picture posted onto Facebook by a friend who happens to be 1500 miles away than to gaze at and interact with the person sitting across the table from you...all I see is trouble, and an eventual world of drones where we've lost all of our heart, soul, and passion just for the privilege of being able to capture where you were in a moment in time on some random Tuesday. (It always is a Tuesday. Fuck Tuesdays.)

(Also, Wednesdays, because of that goddamn "Hump Day" commercial." It's not funny. Never was. It's just moronic.)

Conclusion: Drastic measures need to be taken. -CUE DRAMATIC, FLAILING GESTURES- I am no longer allowing myself to become distracted. If I need to know the time, I'll look at my watch. (Post-It Note to self: buy watch.) If I hear a text or phone call come in, it can wait. No really, it can. 99% of the time, it's not going to be any kind of emergency that requires immediate attention. I am busy. I have a life. I have friends. I go out sometimes. So it's OK, while I am actually HAVING a social life, to NOT be a douche and  advertise that I'm having a social life just so I can let everyone know that...I have a social life. 

So I'm gonna go back to doing that right now. KTHNXBAI //end rant

Images via Tumblr and theoatmeal.com 

Releasing your inner BADASS

Being brave is one of the scarier things in life. (I know, this bitch is talking about first world problems again, amirite?) It really is though. Instinctively, people are hard-wired to exhibit courage when it comes to your fight or flight response. However, since I do not reside in a third world country and am currently not running for my life from a lioness in the bush, courage and bravery (and yes, some instinct) is what I will be discussing today.

It's difficult for me to be honest with people. As brash and bold as I may appear on the outside, when it comes to being honest with myself and necessity to convey that to others, I fail. Example: Last Christmas, or thereabouts, I was semi-seeing the worst man in existence, and he happened to comfortably drop a racial slur (several times) in my presence. My inner hackles raised, I proceeded to do...absolutely nothing. Of COURSE I was offended and felt extremely uncomfortable. So- why nothing?

It's simply difficult. It's almost impossible to gather the inner stones to tell someone they're being a complete ass. It's not easy to let someone know you aren't interested in pursuing a future with them. The thing about relationships is, one side is always going to be wrong and a little off...until you meet someone who, well, isn't. Some can complement you completely. And someone ending up heartbroken in the process of two beings colliding into each other for a moment on this Earth, well... that's life, isn't it?

That being said, I still search for ways to be brave- to DELIBERATELY make myself uncomfortable so that my voice, myself, my very being is noticed and taken account of. I can be assertive without being a bitch. And, as the lovely Anna and GTITW have consistently instructed me to "Say what you wanna say and let the words fall out. I wanna see you be brave. And if someone gets offended by your honesty, well, that's their problem. Not yours." And they're absolutely correct. 

No, I'm not the total hell on wheels with no soul that people often perceive me to be (I believe "intimidating" was used once to describe me, and that was back at university.) I am an inner softy with a wicked bark (rest assured, the bite has and will come out if necessary.) But I'm just learning now, after 34 years on this gorgeous home planet of ours, that the truth shall set you free; and anyone who doesn't stick around for this magnificent tilt-a-whirl that is 'my life' because they can't handle me or my truth can FUCK OFF. In a nice way, of course. 

But no, really do fuck off.

So think about what you honestly have to say to the world, others, and yourself. The right people will stick around if you're the best version of "you" you can be. Be honest, have integrity, but above all be cordial- because let's face it- if you aren't, Karma will come around and ass-fuck you with a cactus.

Images via Tumblr

This shit is gold.

Yo.

Guest blogged on my homegirl's blog....check it out here.

Live long and prosper.

Image via Tumbler

I forgive all assholes.

No, really, I do.

They're not smart enough to know better, even though ignorance is inexcusable. (I will not yell at my computer I will not yell at my computer I will not yell at my computer I will not yell at my computer I will not yell at my computer I will not yell at my computer I will not yell at my computer I will not yell at my computer...)

Do I have all the answers in the universe? NO. Course not. But I do know the difference between right and wrong, what is worth fighting for, what is worth walking away from, and what is worth taking away from an experience to discover the lesson behind it. Everything and everyone we encounter in life teaches us something, remember that, especially when you're pissed off and struggling to center yourself....kind of how I am right now.

I know, I'm being vague for a reason...I don't have all the facts yet and will refrain from over-sharing until I do. But TGTITW told me to practice "being in the moment" and wrapping everyone in a blanket of love. Which is fabulous advice, except I believe I countered with the idea of wrapping someone in that mushy blanket of amour so tightly, that they might lose all oxygen.

I'll never stop being a smart ass. And this is why you read what I write.

I am light and love.

Woooooooooosssssssaaaaaaaaa.

The Rabbit of Negative Euphoria

In other words...

Disappointment is a tricky little critter. It can creep up and curl around us like fog, or slam you brain first into a tree. Sometimes you expect it, most of the time (hopefully) you don't. Currently, I can say without hesitation...I am disappointed with certain people and situations that crop up in my life.

Once upon a time, I had a lovely, fabulous, fun weekend. The heat is currently disgusting and oppressive in the Southwest, so even a trip to the grocery store will LITERALLY suck all the life out of your legs. I didn't get to be as active as I would have liked, but I still had plenty of time to chill on my ridiculously comfortable couch and sleep in, clean house, etc. I went out last night with a couple of girlfriends and actually enjoyed some sushi and a fun atmosphere at a neighboring hookah bar (and sober the entire night!!!!) So, why am I not feeling like playing a game of "yellow car" right now?

There were different plans this weekend...plans that involved several (whom I consider close) friends taking me out for an early birthday experience, dressed to the nines, in Scottsdale this weekend. Extenuating circumstances caused plans to change, which certainly happens and I'm not disappointed with anyone who had legitimate reasons of why they dropped out. But because of things that caused plans to change, and also because birthdays are difficult for me, I became painfully aware of just how good a friend I am to people who repeatedly let me down, for one reason or another. And if you're reading this and feel something called a...oh, what is that word...hmmm...thinking...guilty conscience? Perhaps maybe you've bailed or let me down more than once? Then yes, please DO assume I am referring to you.

We all know I fight demons. I'm very open about how generally lost I feel in this world, especially in this "low" period I've been having for a while (but I am starting to feel better, yay!) I know happiness begins with me, and practicing un-attachment in the Buddhist sense is something I'm trying to learn (but not very good at yet). Still, through my darkness and anxiety ridden brain, I have been, and always will be for people what some are not for me:

A GREAT FRIEND.

If you text me, I answer immediately. Call? I'll pick up. I always ask (with genuine concern, especially if I know that someone has had a rough go of things lately) how someone is, without looking for a generic answer. You let me know what you need, and I am THERE, baby. Feeling like you need to get away? SURE, tell me you'll come visit, then disappear for months. Here for you 24/7, like a goddamn 7-11, that's me. Because that's what friends are for...

So let me tell you now and always, my little kumquats, what I Am NOT and what I AM. I am not a doormat. I am not there to be used when you're down and tossed aside when something "better" comes along. I am NOBODY'S "back-up plan." I am the girl in high school who once had a car full of teenage boys follow me off the highway because they thought I was gorgeous. I am the woman who can drive a stick shift wearing 6 inch heels. I am the woman who reads anything and everything I can get my hands on, because I want to learn everything about everything before I die. I am the woman who, before this year is over, will throw myself out of an airplane for fun (get ready, Anna)  and get my passport finally to go on a fabulous adventure (eh, Chantelle?) And I will walk over that doormat image you have of me, right over it, with my six inch heels and LBD.

So my loves, here's what's gonna go down. I'm not going to answer right away anymore. I won't text back when you need me. I will slowly disappear into living my life and you'll be OK without your backup plan. Obviously, I know the difference between someone who genuinely cares and doesn't waste my time. I've just let it go on for far too long.

Meanwhile, I'll just keep calm and Cumberbunny on. And practice that non-attachment.

Bunny image via © Astrocat

And now a message from our sponsor...

Images via Tumblr

scared

I have a confession... I don't know how to be inspirational today.

I'm lost right now- treading water in the vast ocean that is life. I even feel guilty for sitting in front of the computer and WRITING about my angst because it means I'm not out there LIVING it.

I've lost my sparkle. And it's because I'm BORED.

TGTITW told me today, as I walked into our weekly session, that for the past 3-4 weeks, she has noticed I'm missing from our discussions. In short, I personally feel I'm not living to my full potential because I'm not really LIVING. It's because I'm tired. I'm utterly exhausted, I have zero energy. I'm a goddamn drone, a cog in the corporate machine, and it's taking a toll. I remember ONCE int he past year where I've taken pictures for myself, and not for a gig. I'm writing, sure, but who's reading? And it's the same every day...wake up shower put on clothes go to work have coffee stare at screen for 8 or more hours in a cubicle leave work go to gym or yoga (which hasn't been happening lately as much as it should be) take shower (yes, AGAIN) write edit blog watch an episode of _______ pop sleeping pill go to bed. I'm. Fucking. Bored. And the suggestion from TGTITW is not to rest, not to sleep more, not to shut down...but I NEED TO BE SLAPPED AWAKE.

I woke up this morning and it was everything I could do to drag myself out of bed and come to work. I can truthfully confess that I have no idea how I am going to feel in the morning. I may have sunk into this "funk" even deeper (the awesome side effects of depression at times). What I hope for is this- I wake up with ZEST- I'm going to TACKLE the day with gusto and fight, fight, FIGHT against my Mental Anguish, who is currently sitting in the corner of my bedroom, wearing a straight-jacket and BEGGING me to please...come play... 

So here's my mid-life crisis- that I am raging against my inner instincts to overcome my fear of living. I'm going to say YES if someone asks me to do something or go somewhere. I'm driving myself up North this weekend to do some photography. I want to get my scuba certification so that I can dive with sharks. I'm going to go skydiving with Anna. Chantelle Says and I have fabulous adventures ahead (and I'm going to get my passport, like now, dammit.) I will chronicle all of my misdeeds and ridiculous schemes because, basically, I'm throwing myself into the fray headfirst.  As TGTITW said today, "It's not you who should be scared of life. LIFE should be concerned about you, firecracker."

Restless

The longer I stay in the U.S.A., the more I feel as if I belong somewhere else. Or maybe it's just Arizona in the summertime getting to me this year.

Fuck it. I'm moving to London.

Or maybe I just need a road trip.

I need something different.

Definitely restless.

DEMONS

I've been having a difficult time writing lately. Not because I'm super-mad-cap busy at the moment (ok, well, maybe), or even tired, shockingly: it's difficult in an Arizona summertime to get motivated to do much, but today I feel....awake. Clear. It could be because I slept and napped for a total of 13 hours yesterday (not many fireworks for my 4th), alas, when in Rome. It's because I've been struggling myself lately, even more so that usual, with feeling like, well, myself. (Besides, what is that really? Bah, I'll talk about that laters...) And then I had a shiny, tiny epiphany- the thing that no one ever "wants" to talk about is the very subject that I felt like writing about, being honest about, laying bare for all to see, and exposing myself intimately to the world, publicly... about. It's raw, people... you may read a side of me you've never ....read? Deal with it.

Can you HONESTLY say you have the balls to do the same?

When I tell people I am shy or suffer from social anxiety, the usual response is, "You? No way! You're so FUNNNNNNY..." I am funny. I take it to the next level. I'm snarky without being bitter, and sarcastic just enough to have an edge. That's a show. I mean, it IS a large part of who I am- I don't believe there is much in life one CAN'T laugh at- but it's a show. A shield. Armor. And this is why.

We're all shattered in our own ways. Broken, damaged, cynical, war-torn addicts. Of love, mostly, but addiction shows its face in many forms. Begins with love, ends with a night and a bottle. I refer to the ghosts of my past and present. I realized recently that part of the reason it has taken me such a long time to deal with my issues and get over the past is because I've been HIDING from it. Not dealing with it. And it just so happens my weapon of choice is alcohol.

I've been suffering from depression and anxiety issues for as long as I can remember. My first therapy session was at age 9, due to the fact that my parents were attempting the world record for "Worst Divorce Ever: Let's See how Much Immaturity and Pettiness We Can Drag into FUCKING Up Our Children as MUCH as Possible" category. (Which they won, BTW) I had therapists throughout the years, but didn't start taking antidepressants until about 3 or 4 years ago. Thank sweet fictional baby Jesus for that, because I think Prozac in the 90's spelled DEATH. So, depressed, anxious, socially awkward Ariane is thrust into the world of university freshman...and holy shit, I snapped.

I drank. I drank in my dorm room, I drank at frat parties, I drank with the boys, I drank with the girls. I danced on tables. I waded through the university fountain wearing nothing but a bikini top and tiny shorts- in the middle of the night. I drank to feel good, to be relaxed and open and social. Anxieties eased. I was fun. I was FUNNY. Boisterous, loud, up for anything. I drank (and mostly kept up) with the boys. I drank with my then-boyfriend and his wealthy, alcoholic parents, and the wine was aplenty. What I didn't know at the time was that I was fostering future behavior that left me unable to get over past grievances, betrayals, and heartbreaks because I was too busy numbing myself out on the one legal drug that has fucked up some relationships, friendships, and potentially parts of my earlier career. I drank as a social buffer, a little liquid ease to become brave enough to go dance with that guy, talk to that group, and have moments of MEANING AND FRIENDSHIP AND GLORIOUS-NESS...only, the groups began shrinking as I got older. These moments of meaning became fuzzy, half-empty memories of which made no impact on a hazy hungover morning. And the nights themselves were no longer as fun as they once were. Arguments and tears and anger between friends and lovers was a normality. And it's a path that WILL kill you- emotionally, socially, mentally, if not completely physically- because it almost did, to me.

(Author's, erm, blogger's note: I'm not judging or preaching to anyone. I'm not saying NO ONE DO THIS or THESE ARE THE RULES. I'm sharing my own insight and experience on something that I still struggle with, because of the title of this blog isn't Rulesbitch or Sarcasticbitch or even Funnybitch...even though I totes am. It's INSPIRATIONAL. And if you take something away from it, even if just a better understanding of one person's story, it's still better than watching Gigli.)

Am I an alcoholic? Honest answer: I'm not sure. I've attended several meetings. I've heard stories that far out shadow any situation I was presented with- houses lost, spouses divorced, jail time, DUI's. And sure, I have addictive tendencies (see: fangirling, OCD, food, sex, and wine) that I will almost always need to keep in check. But the fact that I am now well aware they exist has brought me clarity and comfort, as well as some inner peace while the mad world keeps on turning. And for that, seeing myself, really SEEING who I am and what I have the potential  to become, be it good or bad, is entirely up to me.

Up to all of us, really.

Thith writing thtuff ith hard...

So I am doing a completely random post....of some of the top 5 things/people/places/stuff that keeps me amused...at the moment, anyway. This is all subject to change at a moment's notice.

Monday-Friday:

1. Tumblr

2. Yoga

3. Blogging

4. Coffee

5. Chanel

Weekends:

1. Anna

2. Her pool

3. Reading

4. Anna

5. Her pool

Books I am reading at the moment:

1. The Happiness Advantage

2. A Storm of Swords

3. The Art of Happiness

4. If Life is a Game, These are the Rules

5. The Universe in a Single Atom

Favorite movies:

1. Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind

2.American Beauty

3. Black Swan

4. Some Like it Hot

5. 500 Days of Summer

Bands on rotation in my iPod:

1. Muse

2. Imagine Dragons

3. MGMT

4. Snow Patrol

5. Florence and the Machine

Things I am currently missing:

1. ...

2. Hiking weather

3. Rain

4. My confidence

5. My niece

Items right next to me right now:

1. Cat

2. Other cat

3. Laptop

4. Phone

5. Water

Where I want to be right now:

1. The ocean

2. Asleep

3. Happy

4. In the Dalai Lama's living room

5. In BC's lap

Places I want to visit before I die:

1. The Maldives

2. Nepal

3. Australia

4. United Kingdom

5. Japan

Languages people think I speak/ am trying to learn/ already know:

1. English

2. German

3. French

4. Spanish

5. Japanese

Languages I ACTUALLY speak very well.

1. English

2. 

3.

4.

5.

How to get into my pants:

1. Be Benedict Cumberbatch

2. See above

3. See above above

4. See above above above

5. Oh, Christ, just look at #1 already

What I think about on a daily basis:

1. Sex

2. Photography

3. Writing

4. People I care about

5. Sex

Sigh. But above all...wanna be by the ocean. 

Goodnight, loves. 

I have feels...

I have been having one of the most stressful weeks I've ever had. Work always gets a bit hurricane-y during the end of the month, but I've been steadily getting busier for the last few months. Not complaining at all, it's job security, right?...but as y'all know, I do a bit of photography on the side and after many weeks without engagements, I've managed to book four sessions this week. (Gulp) So....heightened stress, for sure...but the I was in the GTITW's office and suddenly, there I was....crying. Sure, stress and exhaustion (oh riiiiight, add insomnia to this list as well!) will make anyone a tad tender and raw, but something slashed deep. Talking, crying, working inner shit out, that's what my 2013 has been all about (look, I rhymed!). I won't delve into the logorrhea I often do when it comes to spilling my guts out very publicly, so I will sum up by saying: rough day, rough week, beyond, BEYOND tired, and all I really want to do is sit in a meditative, yogic state on the top of a mountain, under a tree...or at the edge of the ocean. And cry some more.

I don't believe in a higher power, or that things happen for a reason, or things perhaps being slightly serendipitous, but I came back to work after my appointment fairly drained and back to, well, more working (always working away at something these days, it feels thus, and I have high hopes that eventually this may lead to great success- let's just say, I have my acceptance speech prepped and ready...) and then...a few things happened.

I was preparing to wrap up my day and head for some much needed yoga, when a man stopped dead in front of my desk. I'd seen him around many times in the past almost year that I've been working at my new position, but I don't think I'd ever really conversed with him (except once to tell him he looked fabulous in his Cleopatra costume at Halloween.) He started speaking first, telling me he designs costumes and that he was currently trying to find a pattern for Marilyn Monroe's "naked dress," the one worn when she sung 'Happy Birthday' to JFK for his sister...all while smiling at my Marilyn calendar I have hanging at my desk. We traded adorable anecdotes and random Marilyn facts before he smiled and said, "By the way, I'm Michael." OK...adorable and...my inner smile sure was back...

The evening continues with a fabulous yoga class (and wonderful friend and teacher, Alex) and as I'm heading home, completely spent, I receive a text from her telling me that her mom (in town and next to me in class) told her "I really enjoyed Ariane and practicing next to her energy and that it made her session more enjoyable. Ariane is just lovely!"

Well....fuck me sideways with surprise.

I'm not completely sure what my message is exactly this evening, except perhaps for perhaps saying, exactly what I needed to be surrounded with (positivity and light) and hear (more awesome stuff about me, haha) suddenly manifested itself before me and day...no longer as difficult. Yeah, I'm still batshit tired and busy and going balls to the wall at the moment, but in these moments, I was reminded to slooooooooooooow doooooooooown and, well, be in that moment. There are ups and downs, and sometimes more downs while you're down and continually being kicked down. But even when you think you're a terrible photographer, friend, worker, human being...people usually are right there to remind you, you're pretty fucking terrific. And your hardest critic is often...you. In my case, me.

So knock it off, pipsqueak. You're fabulous...as am I.

I'M SORRY!!!!!!

Been mad busy, and I miss blogging to my peeps, but I've had so much photography and work related stuff going on it's been MADNESS...like a SUPERMASSIVE BLACK HOLE of non-stop running around in the STARLIGHT with my UNDISCLOSED DESIRES making me want to cause an UPRISING...

Also, been listening to far too much Muse lately.

So know that I miss you and I want to be inspirational and I have 10 million ideas smashing themselves together in my brain like tiny atoms highly accelerated that I want to share...let's hope a God Particle or something emerges.

So while you're waiting for me to get my shit together....let's take a moment to appreciate this picture. That's right. ENNNNNJOOOOOYYYY, Sherlock fans. Wish I was in the Jeep too... *pout*

I Am.

I feel charming, oh so charming...

Confidence. It's a dark, conniving little trickster. It only takes one remark from someone to light your soul on fire with conviction to go out into the world and announce, "I'm glorious, bitches! COME AND SEE HOW GOOD I LOOK!"(copyright Anchorman, circa two-thousand something.............something, something dark side...)

............and yet, so easy and heartbreaking to smash one's self confidence into a million pieces.

About two years ago, I was desperately unhappy. I was overweight, drinking far too much, and eating everything in sight to dampen my emotions and furthering my downward spiral. I was still vaguely trying to date every possible candidate in hopes of quelling the ever-expanding loneliness in my life. I realize that I had absolutely zero self-esteem, and believe me, it showed. The culmination of my misery was when a guy I happened to be dating actually came out and told me I was fat and unattractive. Actually, I believe his exact words were:

    "It's not your fault, I just guess I lost all attraction to you after seeing you naked..."

Oh, my.

And you can understand thus why my inner model/bitch was wickedly shattered....until about now.

Granted, I've lost 34 pounds since that time, developed a far healthier lifestyle and love myself a great deal more than I once did......but an immense quantity of that had nothing to do with my physical improvements. I still have those days where, as outside opinions reveal, I still think of myself as "the fat girl,"which is true- but the thing about having your innermost fears exposed once, nothing can take you  past bottom anymore. But it really is about attitude. I'm not and never will be a size 2 (thank sweet baby Jesus, because I love food and drink too much),  because it's about balance. I may not grace the covers of a fitness or glossy glamour mag, but that's OK: what's in, shines out. I have wit, a way with words, a talent for beautiful photography, and the love of family and friends.

So why in the holy ever-loving fuck should I NOT be confident? I am all that and a bottle of 2008 Stag's Leap Cabernet Sauvignon, Artemis (in case anyone is buying.) Own your confidence, dance like you're on meth, and godammit, give your heart away once in a while. You may just win a jackpot.

Love you, Bitchcakes. 

Oh yeah, the point of all of this, and the picture (tee hee, Toothless), is that I'm terrible at taking compliments. So thank you, to everyone who believes in me, and tells and thinks of me as beautiful, inside and out. I'm finally starting to believe y'all.

And when complimented, I will simply say, "Thank you"...because they are probably right. Otherwise, they wouldn't have told me.

BORED!

Only Fan-Locks will get it.

Origins

Ariane is a feminine name. It is a French translation of the Greek name Ariadne. It may refer to:

- Ariane (rocket family), a family of European rockets operated by Arianespace. arianespace.com

- In Hesiod and most other accounts, Theseus abandoned Ariadne sleeping on Naxos, and Dionysus rediscovered and wedded her. In a few versions of the myth, Dionysus appeared to Theseus as they sailed away from Crete, saying that he had chosen Ariadne as his wife, and demanded that Theseus leave her on Naxos for him; this has the effect of absolving the Athenian culture-hero of desertion. The vase-painters of Athens often showed Athena leading Theseus from the sleeping Ariadne to his ship.

With Dionysus, she was the mother of Oenopion, the personification of wine, Staphylus (related to grapes), Thoas, Peparethus, Phanus, Eurymedon, Enyeus, Ceramus, Maron, Euanthes, Latramys and Tauropolis. Her wedding diadem was set in the heavens as the constellation Corona.

The Art of William Whitaker

"Ariadne"

So, if I conclude by drawing a parallel to my own life, I will be abandoned by a mighty, great and wandering man, only to be rescued by A GOD (yes, the goddamn God) of wine and passion...

Or I'm a spaceship.

Either way, I'm OK with this.

Sometimes I pretend to be normal...

Today's words of wisdom:

"Not caring" is the new black

"Fear of rejection is a sign of neediness - specifically, the need to be liked." - Jim Camp

Today I want to discuss not caring. Not NOT caring about the things that matter, such as dear friends, close family, your mental and emotional well-being, and taking care of your body and physical health. And I'm certainly not insinuating that I'm running around proclaiming that I have it all figured out and I don't listen to people's opinions because I know me and I know who I am and besides, people who claim repeatedly how little they care about the outside world are, well, LYING because if they have to make such announcements constantly to the world then they really DO care what people think and, and- well, you get the idea.  The IDEA itself is meretricious because it is fabulous- the ability to let go of outside concerns and criticisms is freeing. The execution of said awesomeness is, well, not so effortless...

(Tangent: Is it odd that when I'm blogging and re-reading it back to myself, my head-voice has a British accent? Maybe my brain thinks I'm fancy...)

So what does it mean, then, to not "care"? Buddhism would describe this as "detachment," or "non-attachment." Many think this to mean being aloof, cold, or haughty, but in truth, it's what may set your soul free: defined as a release from desire and consequently from suffering, it means to understand that everything has impermanence. In five years, are the tiny disappointments of today really going to matter in the grand adventure that is "YOUR LIFE"? Everything and everyone ends: relationships, jobs, living situations- our lives are in constant states of change. You will end. I will end. In 50 years most of the people I care for will be long gone, perhaps myself included...(Nah, no way. I'll be out on that porch, drinking my whisky and holding my shotgun, ten cats hanging out of my hair and yelling at kids to get off my lawn...I'm outliving everyone, bitchcakes, WHEEEEEEEEE!!!!) What doesn't end is your strength, smile, perseverance, love, your heart, ambition, drive, mind, self-education, self-improvement, self-love, and humor. So care about the big things, and the little moments of bliss. Just don't get stuck thinking the negative stuff will follow you around like a little black rain cloud. What matters is how and why and how you're going to live today like it's your birthday, all day, every day.

So consider this the next time you feel angry, displeased or slighted...and you might actually turn up with a smile.

But as ever, I'll leave you with this charming epithet that explains how I really feel, spoken in the ever-eloquent words of my inner smart-ass:

Can ya tell it's Friday?

All I have is wine related.

Happy Friday.

Which one will you choose?

I am the candle, 

You are the dark.

There is nothing left, merely naked and stark.

Stripped bare to truth,

Unguarded, to see:

What forever exposed

 is the 

real,

true,

me.

Fulfillment 101: What You Need to Do

Hobbies: those things that I do that prevent me from going batshit, balls out crazy. I blog. I write. I do photography. I paint. I read. I study Buddhism. I enjoy the finer things in life when I can, like wines and cheese wine. I do yoga, Zumba, and hike (when it's not 100 millions degrees outside in AZ). I used to play the cello, I speak German (and occasionally take a stab at French, Spanish and Japanese). I've volunteered at an animal shelter, attend many cancer walks, and regularly donate funds towards children, cancer and animal related charities. I travel often to L.A. to spend time with family and my beloved ocean. All in all, I try to stay busy and fulfilled.

Sooooo....why do I still feel like my life isn't complete in every way it "should" be, or that there's a piece still missing from becoming the person I REALLY want to be?

Here I was, on a random Tuesday afternoon, describing a typical "day in the life" to the greatest therapist in the world (yes, she reads this blog, but she really IS the most amazing therapist in the history of all of the everything) and it went something like this: I woke up, I spent 8+ hours at work, I worked out (Monday was Zumba, wheeeeeeeeeeeee). I watched six episodes of Community, blogged, pissed away an hour on Pinterest and playing Mahjong...and went to sleep, only to start the same thing over again tomorrow.

First of all (duh), my entire day was spent in front of a screen, one way or another, and I felt the only two activities that contributed to the betterment of my soul were my exercise and my creative outlet of this blog. I realize that with all of our busy schedules and hectic lives during the work week, it's difficult to not want to completely check out at the end of the day, face-down in pajamas and ice cream and drooling on whichever one of our pets we happen to fall asleep on. Hence, I have now scheduled into my daily routine something I call: "My Italian Hour."

Yes, this is a direct answer to my friend's blog, Chantelle Says, in regards to "the pleasure of doing nothing" referred to in Eat, Pray, Love. Americans work too hard, rest too little, and "play" in ways that seem to exhaust ourselves even more. So no, it's not about sitting in a cubicle for most of your day: it's about the conversation you make with a complete stranger in a waiting room and making them laugh. It's  about helping someone clean up their dropped lunch in the kitchen at work when no one else bothers to lift a finger. And as much as I love being a couch slug as anyone (especially justifying laziness after a good workout), I want to LIVE LIFE TO THE FULLEST!! ZEST! NO FEAR! A PLAYFUL ATTITUDE TOWARDS EVERYTHING AND EVERYONE! And truly ENJOY what I am doing in that moment, with mindfulness and positivity at all times.

So- any thoughts on what my next hobby should be? Skydiving? Pottery? Art classes? Needlepoint? Crafts? (CRAFTS!!) I'm open to suggestion! Let's get happily busy, people. But most importantly: STAY happily busy. 

It's late and I'm exhausted...

So this is all I have left in me tonight, but I can't leave you hanging without your daily inspiration.

It was a good day and I intend to share a much longer post tomorrow. Until then, sleep sweet, bitchcakes.

Things to ponder on a Monday...

I'm imperfect. I'll admit it. I don't have all of the answers, I don't have a miracle cure, and I hate that I never used to sweat out of my face before I moved to Arizona and now I do ALL THE TIME. But because I don't have this whole "life" thing all figured out yet (however, I have good leads: I think it has something to do with not being afraid to just LIVE...), who better to lead the blind than someone who's figuring it all out as she goes along? (This way, you get to make mistakes WITH me, wheeeeeee, FUUUUUUUUUUUUN, let's do this, bitches!) A friend posted an article from the Huffington post today that really exemplifies what my conundrum has been for the past month or so, and the reason for my creating a new blog devoted to be a positive and inspirational text for 20 and 30-somethings who perhaps need a little informative, albeit sarcastic guidance. 

Kris Carr, a cancer survivor, wrote this truly stunning article on The Huffington Post back in January 2013 that presents the simplest of questions for you to ponder if you are like me (and everyone else on the planet), wondering what significant impact, if any, I leave behind once I'm gone. I'm sharing because it's the exact opposite of what we've been told "finding our purpose" looks like- and I for one think it's the most brilliant, insightful article I've read in a while. So ask yourself these questions tonight:

"What if your purpose is very different than what you've been taught to believe?

*What if your purpose is to build an everlasting relationship with yourself? To fall deeply in love with precious you? This isn't self-centered or selfish, it's self-expansive. Interconnected. Conscious.

*What if your purpose is to forgive yourself and others? And by doing so, to allow warm waves of compassion to wash over the entire planet (yourself included).

*What if your purpose is to gently heal all self-injury? And by doing so, to become a mentor and role model for others to do the same.

*What if your purpose is to release all shame and feelings of unworthiness? Guess what you'll find behind those feelings? Vulnerability. Roll out the red carpet for the V-word, because vulnerability is where your true strength and glory reside.

*Shall we talk about perfection? Yes, I think we must. What if your purpose is to teach yourself that there is no such thing as perfection and that your never ending pursuit of it is destroying your life and your relationships. Let it go.

*What if your purpose is to speak kindly to yourself so that you elevate your energy and the world around you?

*What if your purpose is to develop an everlasting faith in yourself? To remember your holiness and treat yourself accordingly. The deeper your faith gets, the stronger your connection to a higher power.

*What if your purpose is to take impeccable care of yourself so that you have the energy and joy to serve others?"

The full article is available at the link below. Truly inspiring...and not at all bitchy. Like me.

 (smiley face)

www.huffingtonpost.com/kris-carr/finding-your-purpose

Just watch me burn.

What matters most 

is how well

you walk through the fire.

~ Charles Bukowski

Wilkommen zu meinem blog.

Me: Blue

"M": Pink

Time to soar. (Insert smiley here)