Happy Phoebe

It's been a rough year for a lot of us. For me, I think it was simultaneously one of the best yet hardest years I've ever had. The most sublime experience I've ever had (London, yes I will write about it STOP HARASSING ME) in beautiful symmetry with having to finally admit a problem, give up on the longest, loving (or so one thinks for a while) and destructive relationship I've ever been in: the one with myself and alcohol.

Christmas is an especially tough time. My own memories of Christmas stem from many years of my parents going through an extremely bitter divorce and thus, perhaps some small part of me also distanced myself for so long from the beauty and wonder this season has to behold. I don't personally buy into the commercially bloated representation of Christmas consumerism - all of my gifts this year are in some way hand made, artistic, or specially commissioned. Regardless of all that nonsense, when you are irrevocably thrust into situation so hilarious and humanizing you're forced to laugh, tear up, remember what life, love, and the holidays, are all about...none of the angst matters. Inescapably, you get reminded who you truly are and where your heart is which, I promise dear friends, is exactly in the right place.

And for a moment...I forgot about my own personal demon that's, for the moment, having an excellent snooze. (FUCK YOU, DEMON. FUCK YOU RIGHT IN YOUR FACE).

Sitting in front of me on the plane tonight is Phoebe. Phoebe is 5. Phoebe is wearing Elsa shoes from the movie Frozen and her coat was white and furry. She kept playing a tickle game with her mom and has the most adorable giggle, and her brunette hair is in a ponytail. Phoebe likes the color blue and this is NOT her first time flying at night.

As bags were grumpily stowed and we waited for the already severely delayed plane to leave the gate, a lovely flight attendant came over and began to talk to Phoebe.

"Are you ready, honey? Ohhhhh I like your shoes!"

"THANK YOU THEY'RE FWOM THE MOVIE FWOZEN. THAT'S ELSA."

"Oh, yes, I like that movie too! I have two granddaughters and they love that movie!"

"WHAT...WHAT...WHAT...ARE THEIR NAMES?" *most adorable small child stutter ever.

"Oh Savannah and Sienna, honey. But yes, we all love that movie! AND Elsa."

*small pause*

"So make sure you look outside at the sky tonight and maybe you'll see YOU KNOW WHO."

*small gasp* "SANTA? AND HIS WEINDEER?"

"You might! And Rudolph! With his bright shiny nose!"

*small pause* "WILL I ALSO SEE FWOSTY THE SNOWMAN?!"

(Brief interjection: EVERYONE on the plane is having the gigglefits at the point because SHE'S SO DARN CUTE AND POLITE AND WHAT HAPPENED NEXT MADE. MY. YEAR.)

She launched into the world's cutest rendition of Frosty the Snowman ever.  EVER.

"FWOSTY THE SNOWMAN, WAS A  JOLLLY HAPPPPY SOOOOOUL
WITH A CORNCOB PIPE AND A BUTTON NOOOOOOSE AND TWO EYES MADE OUT OF COAL LA LA LA LA LAAAAA...."

AND HALF THE PLANE STARTED SINGING IT WITH HER, INCLUDING THE FLIGHT ATTENDANT, AND CLAPPING ALONG. INCLUDING ME.

I laughed as hard as I have in a long time and then I started to cry.

How simple it is to make someone's hour, night, year nudging them towards a gentle reminder that life is worth living for, even for a moment so you can hear Phoebe sing you her favorite Christmas song, tell you she calls her grandmother 'abuelita' because "IT MEANS TINY GRANDMA" and launch an entire plane full of people to start singing a holiday tune?

So I leave you with this brief note, friends, to tell you I'm OK. You're OK. We will all be just fine. Hug your loved ones, celebrate the wondrous winter eves, smush your face into a cat, and celebrate you, whatever you do or do not choose to celebrate. In the end, tis the season for love and kindness, after all.

Just remember to keep singing. 

(Pro tip: it's even better with a plane full of strangers.)

Merry, happy, joyous holidays.

I wish you a Merry Christmas...

I love you all. I am grateful for you. I hope we all have a peaceful, loving, and safe holiday season. 

See you on the other side!

Thinky Thoughts and Stuff

WARNING: This is a Buddhist post. Slip into Zen mode, breathe deeply and enjoy reading.*

*I don't know why I feel Buddhism needs a warning. If anything, that's the exact opposite of Buddhist teachings. It's like saying ALARM ALARM ALARM, YOU'RE GOING TO DO A VERY PEACEFUL YOGA STRETCH AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH *screams for days*.**

**I'm a terrible example of what a Buddhist looks like. Shut up.

I'm blogging to bossily tell you what to do with your thoughts and how to live your life because I have control issues but I pretend it's actually advice, only today I'm sharing an epiphany I had because IT REALLY IS ADVICE TO HELP GIVE YOU PEACE SO JUST LISTEN AND DO WHAT I SAY OKAY.

Peaceful thoughts are tricky. No one thinks them all the time. I'm certainly no expert on mindfulness. I've struggled my whole life against depression and anxiety, in addition to growing up surrounded by relatives who are very, well, angry. Massively improving one's life by (mostly) conquering years of negativity and bad tempers beaten into you is no small feat. (Not ACTUALLY beaten, to clarify. My parents weren't THAT awful, just incredibly immature. I digress.) With the stress and hurried way we rush through our lives, it's easy to rise to judgmental, negative, even very dark thoughts. It becomes faaaaaaaaaar too easy to feed the monster within. 

I'm telling you right now...let that shit go.

Being very active on social media exposes you to a lot of negative, crass, angry people. Hell, being ALIVE exposes you to them. If you have an opinion on something, 100 other people will disagree, name call, or send you dick pics. (Unless you have a very pretty one with glitter on it, or if you're Michael Fassbender, WE'RE NOT INTERESTED, GENTLEMEN..... Mmmmmmmmmm... Fassssssbenderrrrr.....*drools*.) Being a part of the online community has its perks, such as meeting very incredible people and maybe even taking trips you would have never thought possible, sharing similar interests while enriching your life. But the unfortunate side effect and truth about humanity is, there are just an awful lot of angry people out there.

Imagine how differently this world would be and people would feel if they are simply left to their own feelings without judgment.

There's room for sarcasm. I realize I'm incredibly snarky to the point where people actually are convinced I'm evil, but those who truly know me (or you) probably realize you're a very lovely person. But I'm speaking of the ugliness that gets exposed when people disagree and begin to take things personally, and sooner rather than later, things can escalate to personal attacks. No one is immune, and no one responds perfectly all the time, myself included. What I'm referring to is the hypocrisy of those who say "I DON'T DO ANYTHING MEAN BUT THIS OTHER PERSON IS AWFUL AND STUPID" and it basically becomes a huge mud fight. ("Mud fight?" You know when you made a mud ball as a kid and threw it at your friends? Is that what it's called? I'm the only one who did this? I don't throw things ANYMORE, unless you count gently lobbed articles of clothing at my cats when they're being annoying. Hey, where are you guys going?)

It's difficult to swallow people not liking you or your opinions. I was never popular in social settings as a kid and that sticks with me even today. I was a quiet bookworm who bit her nails and wore terrible hand-me-down clothing and was teased CONSTANTLY. (Thanks for contributing to my drinking problem, middle school but FUCK YOU because I outran all the boys thanks to my long legs and love of running fast. Stick that in your pipe and smoke it.) So after 36 29 years on this planet, I've finally reached a place where I don't CRAVE acceptance from all people, am able to finally let things slide and take the time to genuinely listen to what I need and make decisions based on those facts and feelings. (I realize this post is all over the place but I was woken up at 5 am by aforementioned cats who I'm convinced are closet speed freaks. There's no good reason a feline version of NASCAR needs to happen that early in the morning. It's cruel.)

AND NOW FOR THE POINT OF THIS POST.

Let. That. Shit. Go.

People who are negative? Don't need them in your life. People who egg you on, hoping to get a rise out of you? You don't even ever "need" to respond to anyone who doesn't like who you are, because nothing pisses people off more than being ignored. That's fine. Let them stew, it's not your problem if they attack you and are left with no result. 

The resentment monster is hungry. Feed it a burrito, if you have to, just don't feed it by spending your time focusing on anyone's life except your own. Trust me, you need improvement. We're all just floating around among the stars for a brief period of time until we're gone again. Think of how much better you'll feel without that weight on your shoulders.

*this is quite possibly the worst, most scattered, verbally incompetent post i've ever written, but I don't get paid for this shit so you'll get your money's worth on this. Or my money's worth. I'm so very tired.)

Requiem for a Donut

I was on my way into the office a few mornings ago, struggling to hike up my dress skirt, balance a bag full of mostly vegetarian diet food and my purse when the clouds parted, Jesus sang to me (not really, calm your tits) and I had an epiphany- this might be the life that I always feared would "happen" to me. Here I am at 36, a bit round in shape at the moment, no significant other and absolutely no sex life to speak of, a cat at home who has a massive urinary tract infection, my hair is a mess and I probably have a brand new hemorrhoid. Not hemorrhoids. Just one. Hemorrhoid. I've named him Brett. Let's face it, we've all known some asshole name Brett in our life. Brett Huntington the Third. Or Brad. Brad Hunter Twatwaffle Regington the Third.

Haha. Asshole. Get it? I digress. (It's Brett, by the way. He may or may not be named after an ex. I can neither confirm nor deny).

I realized, every weekday morning I walk into a job where I repeatedly covet delicious dreams that the eight or nine years hours I'm there will speed by as quickly as possible and contemplate how I turned into a giant adult loser (she says with her trademark delightful tongue-in-cheek humor. I've gotten myself to the point in life where I can make self-deprecating comments and it's OK, because I don't REALLY mean them, but hear me out anyway). For all the things listed above and about ten billion more I can think of, I had let myself go to the point of practically being unrecognizable in the mirror. Most of the time, I actually avoid mirrors. I don't think I've worn makeup in weeks. When I do post pictures of myself, for the most part I edit beforehand with a makeup app because let's be real, my eyelashes will never be that fabulous. Yes, I'm a big cheating cheater (but it's OK because deep down, I really do think I am beautiful). I really did just allow things to "happen" to me, because I wasn't taking control over the things that made me accountable for really living my own life (alcohol, weight issues). When you drink and eat your face off for two years straight, it doesn't make you a terribly attractive person, inside or out. It is far easier to stare at potato salad and Chardonnay than at another person and be intimate with them. Looking in people's eyes is creepy anyway. Don't look at me. DON'T.

So what do I truly desire at the moment, above all things? I want things I would have eaten without hesitation a mere 2 months ago. I really really want a donut. Or a bacon wrapped cheeseburger. French fries. Chinese food. An entire pizza. ICE CREAM. A DONUT BACON WRAPPED MAC AND CHEESE-BURGER. A PULLED PORK STEAK BACON SANDWICH DRIZZLED WITH MAPLE SYRUP IN BETWEEN TWO PINEAPPLE UPSIDE DOWN PANCAKES.

I mean, c'mon man. Look at that. LOOK AT IT.

But I won't, and here's why:

I've been going hard at the clean eating and exercise for about a month now. I've already lost 10 pounds, perhaps a bit more depending on what starting weight we're going by and EW NO I'M NOT SHARING THAT NUMBER. It's not easy. It's actually really hard for someone who loves food and drink and couches and being horizontal. Plus, I'm not in my twenties anymore, I don't have great genetics, and I'm fighting this battle living in a nation where portion size and high fructose corn syrup are revered more than US Weekly. Or religion. Or the Karda- you know what? I can't even type that name in my blog. I have too much respect for myself.

The first thing people always ask is...how? How are you doing it? While I could tell you it's not rocket science (diet, exercise, weights (A LOT A LOT A LOT OF WEIGHTS), drink a shitload of water, DO NOT DRINK ANY ALCOHOL WHATSOEVER) it is vastly more complex than that. I think earnestly about everything I am putting in my body. In order to make drastic physical changes in a very short amount of time, clean eating and incredible restraint with portion control have been key. I'm going to London next month and that was a huge catalyst for my sudden lifestyle change. I would have begun this process much sooner if I could have, but I was so sick for most of this year that I honestly began when I could. Oh, I probably forgot to mention I was so sick because I WAS DRINKING MYSELF TO THE POINT OF PHYSICAL ILLNESS. (PS. How fucked up is it that I have a mental illness/addiction that even though I know it will make me sick, I keep doing it? THANKS, BRAIN.)

But I want to share what I think is the most important take away, in other words (and also to quote Cabin Pressure) THE SECRET TO MY ENORMOUS SUCCESS!

You have to want it more than anyone else wants it.

You have to want it more than anything else in the entire world.

That may seem excessive (IN CASE YOU HADN'T NOTICED, I'M A DRAMA QUEEN) but I do not do things at 50%. I do them at 113%. This method may not work for everyone. My style is balls to the wall, everythingIamandhaveandwillbegetsputintoasingularfocusuntilIreachmygoal. This is how I do. I eat a lot of fruits and vegetables. I do arm weights almost every day. I do semi vertical push-ups and lunges in the handicapped stall at work every time I got to the bathroom. I do arm circles at my desk and I don't care who sees me. I have a hashtag for that. It's #BeastMode. I live and breathe eating well and making myself stronger.

When I am doing jumping jacks, lifting weights, or doing crunches, I yell, to myself, out loud. I yell things like "YOU WANT THIS" "YOU CAN DO THIS" "YOU'RE GOING TO BE SO HOT" "YOU ARE THE QUEEN OF EVERYTHING LOOK AT YOU YOU BAD-ASS GODDESS OF SWEAT" "KITTENS ARE AWESOME," etc. But it works for me. It helps to hear a voice, especially your own, telling you OUT LOUD IN AN ANGRY WEIGHTLIFTING, ASS KICKING MANNER that you are good enough, strong enough, and powerful enough to make that change you so desperately want. 

If you take anything away from what I am sharing today, it's that while you ARE fantastic enough as you are, if you want to make a change physically/mentally/emotionally, do what works to GET YOU TO THE GOAL. I still have a long way to go myself. I will need help. I know I WILL get there. But you have to do what works for you. Write notes for yourself and put them on the mirror if you have to. Smile when you actually DO look at yourself in the mirror (I'm still working on this one). Yell at yourself, but only awesomely positive, motivational and inspirational phrases. Eat a banana instead of a Snickers, but please don't look anyone directly in the eye when doing this. Yell more intensely positive things to yourself. Yell at your cat. (Actually, don't yell at your cat. That's just mean. Unless she wakes you up at 3 a.m. for no goddamn good reason and then yell. But pet her a lot afterwards.)

If I can do this, you can. You can. YOU CAN.

YOU. CAN.

As one of my best friends would say, "You do you."

P.S. Brett says hi.

P.P.S. I have a giant blemish on my forehead too. HIS name is Brad.

About Me 2.0

So I am doing another completely random post of some of the top things/people/places/stuff that keeps me amused or random info I'm sharing that maybe you didn't already know about me, for the moment, anyway.

This is all subject to change. Like, in two seconds when I get bored, probably.

Monday-Friday:

1. Twitter

2. The gym

3. Eating healthily

4. Water

5. More fucking water, flush those crap toxins out, man

Weekends:

1. Anna's pool

2. Working out

3. Reading

4. Cross stitching

5. SLEEEEEEEP, GLORIOUS SLEEEEEEEP

Books I am reading at the moment:

1. The Martian (just finished, brilliant!)

2. Outlander

3. Blackout

4. Guts

5. You're Never Weird on the Internet (Almost)

Favorite movies:

1. Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind

2. Yes.

Total cinephile, just throw everything at me.

Bands on rotation on my Spotify:

1. Sia

2. MC Solaar

3. Grimes

4. Ladytron

5. Tove Lo

Things I am currently missing:

1. Love

2. Hiking weather

3. Rain

4. My confidence

5. Fitting into my skinny jeans

Items right next to me right now:

1. Cat

2. Tablet

3. A candle

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 London

Places I want to visit before I die:

1. The Maldives

2. Nepal

3. Australia

4. United Kingdom (CHECK!)

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. Germ- kinda

3.

4.

5.

How to get into my pants:

1. Can't remember.

What I think about on a daily basis:

1. Food

2. Photography

3. Writing

4. London

5. Why I'm too lazy or scared to take chances

Current addictions:

1. Dr. Teal's Lavender Epsom salts. I die.

2. Califia Farms Almond milk. You'll die.

3. FITTING INTO CLOTHES IN TIME FOR LONDON

4. Rubbing my cat's paws because it annoys her

5. Falling on trampolines.

This has been your weekly update.

Goodnight, loves. 

You must, must, must, must read this...

Short blurb on a Thursday night just to say...

Please read this book. 'Drinking: A Love Story' by Caroline Knapp remains one of my most favorite, poignant, and important books about alcohol addiction.

Grab a copy if you can.

Duality

I'm all too aware that I talk about myself a lot. Most of what I write seems extremely indulgent and feels self serving at times, because all I do is tell stories about, well, me. I believe human nature is essentially pretty egocentric - left alone for too long to one's devices, the mind will tend to spiral lower into oneself and pretty soon you're examining and reexamining every move and thought and speech you've ever done and thought and said. If you're one of the millions who suffer from a mental health disorder, the self shame spiral magnifies times a thousand, and your mind can only deal with the reality of yourself. It means, sometimes, I am not good company, and no, I am not thinking about others. But you know what? I'm telling you: that's OK.

I talk about my experience because I genuinely hope it will help people who aren't comfortable enough talking about how they struggle on a daily basis. I've lived with depression and have been in therapy for over 20 years (USE ME, PEOPLE. I LIKE IT*). So, every time I sit in front of the computer and think about what I want to tell everyone, I do hope someone finds solace in the fact that I've pretty much seen and done it all when it comes to low points in life...and I'm here for you.

I see my magnificent unicorn therapist about once a month now, and I happened to visit her the other day. I feel like myself, and many others I've spoken to lately, are in a bit of a life slump. Speaking for myself, it's because I get lazy. It's easier to succumb to the voices telling me it's too hard to succeed, I'm no good at writing and it's not the thing I WAS ABSOLUTELY, UNABASHEDLY BORN TO DO I MEAN, LOOK AT THESE WORDS THEY'RE SPECTACULAR OK back on track now. So, sitting in her office the other day, hunched and feeling beaten, she suddenly said:

"Ariane, it's frustrating sometimes to have you as a patient."

Cue panicked look on my face. (She's great with the metaphors/analogies, so I'll continue).

"Imagine I'm a teacher. I have A students, C students, and D students. If my C student gets a C grade, I know they're doing OK...I'm not going to suggest they apply to Harvard Law anytime soon, but they're doing alright. One of my D students hands in a C paper, I'm ecstatic. They are doing GREAT." She narrows her eyes at me. "But you are an A student and you're doing C work. Your potential is LIMITLESS. There is absolutely nothing stopping you...except yourself."

And the same goes for you.

So the question I ask myself, and everyone else who takes the time to read this (BLESS YOU) is...are you going to succumb to merely "existing?" Or...will you fly?

Most of the people I know are pretty extraordinary. It's beautiful when you get to see the shadows and light of someone's personality, and all the things they're capable of. I have friends who are magnificent artists, hilarious makers of craft goodies, and beautiful writers. You're foodies, humorists, and generally very silly people. You're educated, intelligent, flawed, and dark. You have your good days and bad, and that's completely OK. You feel sad, depressed, anxious, happy, elated, intense, and strong, and all of those are OK too. You are everything, all at once. The quote the title of a book by the Dalai Lama, you are the universe in a single atom.

Embrace it, and know that you're worth every moment you have on this planet.

You are a child of the universe,

no less than the trees and the stars;

you have a right to be here.

And whether or not it is clear to you,

no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.

~ Desiderata 

Top image from Tumblr
Middle image from here
Bottom image from cuded.com

*wait, what?

May is Mental Health Awareness Month!

At any given point in time, this is what it feels like to live with mental illness and/or addiction.

May is Mental Health Awareness Month. When people share their stories this month, all I ask is to please pay attention. There is still an extraordinary stigma surrounding the multitude of mental diseases people struggle with on a daily basis. Considering 1 in 4 people have some form of mental illness, chances are you are directly affected by it (duh) either by yourself or a loved one having it. The statistics are still shocking when you think 8.6 million adults think about suicide daily, suicide is still in the top ten list of leading causes of death, and people of color STILL have less access to care.

Let's talk, people.

Here are some handy links to click on for your IIFS: Itchy Internet Finger Syndrome (not in fact a mental illness, but a highly useful useless way to pass the time) -

Mental Health America

15 Global Mental Health Information and Network Websites

World Federation for Mental Health

Centre for Global Mental Health

*Image found on Pinterest as 'uncredited'