Is truth beauty and beauty truth?

Truth can mean whatever you want it to mean.  It is a concept of relativity, meaning you can percieve any situation how you please, and create your own truth for that moment or situation.  It is up to the individual to use facts to make a rational truth assessment, however it is sooooo tempting to take opinions and speculations and make them truth.  If you have a really fanciful imagination like I do, you are likely to be living out several truth scenarios at the same time.  For example, sometimes I dream about things that seem like reality (ie conversations with people I know, in dream places that look like the real places I hang out), and even upon waking, I am still tempted to believe that these dreams are part of reality.  Like if I'm on bad terms with someone (like that ever happens, pshh), and I dream a good dream about them, I can suddenly feel as if we are not on such bad footing.  I might even be tempted to kiss and make up.  My toolbox is full of all kinds of mental tricks for altering the truth to fit my needs of the moment.  Today I might be confident, tomorrow depressed, the next day happy, the next night doubtful... all these changes in mood and faith seem to be related to my idea of what is true. 
So, I'm giving up on finding truth, and have decided to search for the only thing with meaning in this life: beauty. Some say they are the same thing, but I see it like this. Truth is a fluid state, subject to change based on feelings of the moment. Beauty IS those feelings of the moment.  When we see reality, the only part of it that can be trusted is the beauty.  The chaotic, disorganized, mysterious, relentless beauty that we call life.

The 6 Week Phenomenon

I'm not a complainer (cough cough yes I am) but there's something I have to get off my chest.  Why is it that I'm always falling for some older, charming guy that starts acting all batty after 6 weeks together? What are these people looking for and why the hell isn't it me?  Dammit. I can screw all the 25 year olds I want and walk away completely unscathed emotionally, but get me near somebody over 30 and I'm a complete basketcase. SERIOUSLY. Its like some kind of voodoo magic spell that these supposed "successful" "men" put on me. Maybe my focus on the guy's accolades blinds me to his relative disinterest in my needs and wants.  Or maybe I'm dating out of my league. I don't know, but let me just say that having sex for fun is really up my alley so don't even think about asking me for a date. Unless you're older than me. But then be prepared that I'll most likely fall in love with you and you'll be forced to either a) drop me cold turkey or b) let me down easy by saying how much you like me and then never calling again, or c) tell me that you're just crazy, as if that would make me go away.  Apparently, as long as you do it about 6 weeks after you meet me, it's perfectly acceptable to break my heart.

My mom advises me to become celebate for the next year.

Roommates

To those of you who daily celebrate NOT having roommates...I am here to tell you that roommates are the perfect thing. 
What is better than coming home from a hot overnighter with one of your love interests, only to discover that your roommate has an even better idea... the party that is still going from last night.  I thought I'd be coming home to my room, my computer, perhaps a pot of coffee made by my more melllow roommate Emily.  But no... Steve and several of his friends are snorting ecstacy and getting ready for their second or third wind of the evening, or should I say morning?  When I'm already wearing an olive green jumpsuit just for kicks, you better believe I cannot resist jumping into the party at least for an hour or two.  Doesn't it make sense that we ended up on the roof cuddled up in blankets drinking mimosas? 
Wisely, however, I opted not to join the caravan for a mid-day costumed pub crawl, although I generously loaned all the hats and shades I could find in my halloween box.  Luckily, one of the entourage had the decency to offer a tasty bit to keep me going for the rest of the day, since rolling is not the best way to show up to work.  God bless roommates who quite often take the monotony out of an otherwise average Monday. 
And it doesn't hurt that I spent my Sunday evening with someone special and his roommate drinking a fantastic cab and watching Zombieland.  My life has never been more charmed.

As I sit here absorbing whitening gel into my coffee-tea-nicotine-spunk-weed-juice-chocolate-wine stained teeth I am thinking on why I stopped writing my blog.  A few key reasons come to mind...
1. Very few people (albeit important and sexy people) actually read this thing.
2. Of those reading, one sexy person (my ex), was finding my sexual dishing (tame as it was) quite obnoxious.
3. Said ex then quoted me directly from my blog during an argument...hardly fair considering that he has no quotables that I could use against him as a comeback.
4. The month of January included so many shenanighans that I really didn't know where to start...

BUT THEN, my friend Emmanuelle told me that my life is his favorite reality show.  As far as I can remember, no higher complement was ever paid me in all my life.

So, you see, I was selfishly hiding myself away from you dear readers.  But I realized, that's not fair to you!!  If entertainment is what the world needs, then that is what I will give.  If I can make people happy just by telling you what I did last night, then why not? 
In closing, if having a hot threesome, kissing beautiful strangers, or maintaining a relationship entirely through phone sex is not what makes life worth living, then I must have died and gone to heaven!   

I'm not bored, yes I am

Do you ever feel like you do things, you do things, you do things, and you're still the most boring person you know? I just spent 2 good hours on facebook looking at how exciting every one else's lives are. I mean, there's not even ONE photo of me doing any kind of water sport.  The only picture taken of me outside was at a wine tasting.  And we were forced to sit outside.  Thank god I like running or I'd be indoors all of my life.  I'd be dead of a vitamin D deficiency by now. I'm very thirsty by the way...

Two Thousand and Ten Sensations

"It's a new dawn, it's a new day, it's a new life for me... And I'm feeling good."

-Muse, "Feeling Good" from Origin of Symmetry, best rock album EVER

Yesterday at work, I was overcome by one of the stranger sensations of my lifetime.  Seriously, this beat the first time I was eaten out, which was so foreign and amazing that I shed tears of shock...

While walking through the dining room at my restaurant, I realized with much amazement that I'm truly happy.  And not just the "it's-almost-9pm-and-I-can-go-home-now" happy, but a deep feeling of content that was so foreign and amazing I wasn't sure how to receive the message.  At first, I felt a sense of loss for the melancholy I had held so close to my heart for the past 27 years.  Then I felt a quiver as that feeling of melancholy was replaced by a split second of nothingness, whereby I felt absolutely neutral.  (All this, imagine, as I'm walking from table 13 back to the kitchen...)  As I processed the neutral sensation running through my body, a question arose... How am I supposed to feel if I am not upset, pissed off, sad, manic, overjoyed, or just plain cheated?  Really, what IS this feeling?  That's exactly the moment when it struck me like Shawn Slater's nimble tongue: I have everything I want. 

Now, I know what you're thinking. One moment of clarity is not going to erase 27 years of shit splatters from riding the pity-party wagon.  Not at all.  And if all I really want is to work in a restaurant and share a flat with a couple of roommates and some mice, then I guess my idea of happiness might seem a little less than the American dream come true.  To each his own, however.

It took me 4 years, but in that time here's what I've accomplished that can't be put on a job application or used to buy a house:

I learned to play the piano.

I wrote a hundred songs, and I love each one of them.

I joined a band that I rock out with twice a week.

I got over my ex-boyfriend, no easy task considering that our 6 year stint spanned from ages 18-24, and that without his influence I would not have found music.

I became a vegan.

I freed myself from the bondage of co-dependence, and entered a hot relationship with myself.

I became a runner.

I accepted my life for what it is... MINE

So, interpret this how you will.  I think we are encouraged to practice false modesty because it is somehow against the social mores to admit that life truly is good.  Being a human is an intensely painful and unique experience, but that is why it's so amazing.  Every moment of the journey is worth celebrating, from the best orgasm of your life, to the moment you decide to come down from the ledge. 

Pain, pleasure, hunger, darkness, lust, joy, evil, wonder, puzzlement... the stuff of life IS life.  We can spend our time however we want.  I made the executive decision to practice happiness, and suddenly that's what I've got.  It's not luck that got me here but perseverance.

In closing, don't assume my new found contentment means the blog won't still be a sounding board for daily resentment and ranting.  Quite the oppposite in fact.  My baggage still holds a hot mess, but the suitcase is brand new, and it's got my name written all over it.

  

For a little extra joy, please watch:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Nh7D2g5v-Sg

Hygiene Update

SOOOO.... you want to know how it's going right?  Well, my mouth is a little like the Taj Mahal these days.  So old, and yet so clean and sacred.  Wonderful. The spirituality of tongue-scraping is the nearest I have been to Nirvana, except when I saw them back in '93.  There's still gunk, but at least that gunk is now in the sink and not in my mouth.
To all past lovers and that one guy I kissed on Halloween: sorry that my mouth used to be a festering sespool of germ and funk. I apologize for kissing you with my unclean tongue, and most especially after it had been you-know-where.  If you would like to experience that again, only this time with the freshness of a spring morning, give me a call, shoot me and email, text me, find me on facebook, hit my myspace page, ring my doorbell, call my work, post a missed connection, or just hang out at Bean Bag.  One way or another you'll find me... you always do.