I am on a hiatus between work assignments and I feel like I’m dreaming, or waking up, or something. There’s nothing to do. Well, actually there are tons of things I should be doing, but I’m letting myself float in the “do what you would like to within reason” land, which means that mostly I sleep, or clean, or paint, or watch really bad movies with Sally Field in them.

I feel like I keep waiting to be able to do the things I really want. I’m not exactly sure what those things really are, but this is what I’m waiting for:

Cook good food in my new kitchen.

Make fun friends and invite them to dinner parties in my new place.

Eat healthy, get new clothes.

Have a routine in which I get to do fun creative projects.

Have my own space.

The last is the one that all the others stem from. I can never really feel like I’m being myself lately… I miss having good friends around me. I miss the time when anything we did was an adventure. Life seems so lame now, and maybe it’s because I’m jaded, or maybe it’s because I’m just not in college anymore, but nothing seems exciting. I don’t feel cool. Sometimes I think J took my mojo with him when he went to Tokyo.

Sidenote: Why do hot, well dressed people always seem like they are having more fun than I am?

Nothing is new, everyone’s a poser, this American culture bites and squashes all attempts at creativity. Everyone is too hipster or too lame. Can’t make any friends. It’s probably my bad outlook that is making me think this way, but it would be so nice to just be able to relax.. stop having to work so hard to prove to myself that I’m not wasting away my youth.

I mean, I’m too old to even be a pornstar… my fallback career. Now what am I going to do when I’m really broke and have no hope? I’ll have to be a madam and squeeze my living out of the blood of younger, more beautiful ladies.

Sometimes I try to think of it long term… I haven’t even thought of most of the really amazing things I will do in my life! But I also feel my reserve start to crumble… I’m starting to understand more and more everyday why people take the corporate route with the big paychecks and the fancy weddings. Get married, have kids, buy a house… sometimes it sounds like stability, more manageable then a roller coaster life where you have no idea what will happen in another year. Right now I’m just disappointed that life isn’t always new shoes and new cities, new adventures and late nights on public transit. I want to start a bike gang, befriend a group of radical lesbians who throw the best impromptu dance parties, and are building a ropes course in the empty lot next door.

I bet it’s the internet… all that stimulus and now I’m trained life to go faster, present me with more content and information every step of the way. Connect me to hundreds of my friends every moment. I find myself staring at the screen waiting for someone to start talking to me. Waiting for my life to come to me instead of trying to make it on my own.

I know it’s just me, and I’m hoping to get out of it soon, but now that I have a few moments to relax, I can’t help wonder… why is everything so lame? But soon, we will have our own place… we will cook dinner, and if it kills me, I will have a dinner party and it will be fun, dammit.

When I was in school, I was always excited for what I would do when I got out. Free from all the restrictions and requirements of education, I would be finally free to do what I wanted, and become the person I was meant to be. Then I got out and figured out that I have to pay rent and feed myself, which can be a little dream-crushy at times. Sometimes it’s hard to get back aspirations when you still have to get the everyday stuff handled. For a little while now, I’ve been trying to remember what or who I was striving for all those years I dreamed of graduation.

When I was really little, I wanted to be a talent agent. My mom was a producer and media trainer, and my sister was an actress, so it felt like a good fit. Little but fierce, I’d be able to haggle the most money and the best jobs with my quick wit, charm, and manipulative tactics. I’d take care of people who couldn’t do it by themselves.

Then there was the torch singer idea. I wanted to lie around on pianos and be treated like a princess and admired by all for my sweet, smokey, sultry voice. I’d hypnotize everyone with my satin dresses draping over the piano. My world would be slick, rainy cityscapes lit by streetlights, walking home on the arm of a tall man in a big coat. I’d drink manhattans and smoke with a long cigarette holder and basically live in the 1930s. I’d break hearts.

I thought it would be fun to be a diplomat’s wife. I wouldn’t have to deal with the boring aspects of being a real diplomat. I’d just get to travel a lot and wear fancy clothes and speak tons of languages and be super classy. I’d throw the best dinner parties and bring the best out of everyone and have an amazing place for entertaining. Everyone would adore me and I’d be like a slightly lower level, less famous, but more interesting and artsy Jackie O.

When I got to high school, I did this awesome after school arts program where I met a bunch of practicing artists. I’d visit their studios and go to their shows and that was when I first realize that there were people who actually made art for a living. I remember this moment, because I always loved to make art. It was my favorite thing to do, but I thought it was too fun to be something you could make a career out of. After that, I was hooked. My mantra was “Do what you love, and things will happen.” It led me to major in art in college, where I learned not only about making art, but I also learned how cut-throat and shmoozy the art world supposedly was. It was a big turn-off, one that I haven’t worked through fully yet. Plus, I became more interested in making events and parties than static sculptures or paintings.

When I really think about what I want to do, and who I want to be, I keep coming back to the same thing: anyone/anything I want all the time. I used to think that I could just do whatever I thought was really cool, but lately I’ve been a little blocked on the coolness front. My vision is a little blurred. But the fact remains that I just want to be amazing. I want to be that person whose presence changes a room when I enter. I want to be confident without being cocky, effortlessly beautiful, truly authentic, trusting, and candid. I want to make everyone I meet feel comfortable, like they are already my friend, and like they don’t have to pose or posture at all. I want to have so many good ideas that I give most of them away and inspire art and culture and projects and good deeds. I want to make magic happen, and glide through life, crushing obstacles and worry and troubles underneath me, as though they were nothing. I want to make art, make events, make dinner, make lemonade stands, and get people to stop and think about how lovely and beautiful thing moment is right here. I want to turn reality into a place that people think must be a a dream from which they never want to wake.

Yes, I want to be a faith healer. An artist. An organizer, a planner, a carouser. I want to sing in the street and give everything I am to everyone around me and get it right back. I want to dream and break the rules. I want to do everything, because I can. And I want to give people this perspective, that they can do anything too. And then maybe together, we will.

when we used to kick it

Song of the Day: Back in the Day – Missy Elliot feat. Jay-Z

My grandmother used to say “You’re only as old as you look.” When I was a teenager, I was always being mistaken for someone much older than myself. Even my current partner, who is ancient, thought I was much older than I am when we started going out. I’m hoping this trend will reverse as I actually get older and form a kind of bell curve so that one year I’ll actually look my age, and then keep getting younger.

Aside from appearances, though, I’m feeling older. I keep remembering all the late nights and packed days in college. I’d stay up until 4am every night, watching music videos. My best friend and I had a rule freshman year that we couldn’t go to bed without seeing Toxic by Britney Spears on late night MTV. We’d go get philly cheesesteaks at 2am. Then we’d run around to class all day and I’d draw for 6 hours and cut tiny shapes out of colored paper and glue it all back together.

Now, it seems like I never get half as much done in a day that I used to. Is that true? I can’t tell if school is just so compartmentalized that it seems like you’re doing a shit ton of stuff everyday. But seriously, with all the time I spend cooking, eating, washing things, dressing myself, sleeping and snuggling, it’s a wonder I ever do anything else.

It’s not only time that seems to have gotten away from me. I’ve undergone this weird transformation in the last year. Maybe I’m just out of practice, but I remember being able to drink a bottle of wine by myself over dinner in Paris. This was after happy hour and before pre-gaming to go out dancing. Man, when I think of all the substances I was able to tolerate at that time.. and I was always testing my limits. I’d wake up in a hotel room in Spain covered in sand and sore all over and think, “Oh god, what happened?”
Now I am lame. I can’t drink anymore, though I often try, especially when I have PMS and I’m all fiery inside. But man, that two and a half glasses of wine at my mom’s house last night made my head light up and zonked me out. I can’t get really drunk anymore without spending the next day puking my guts out. Ginger ale and saltines are my new favorite foods.

Even coffee gets my delicate little constitution all riled up. I can’t drink half a cup before I have a belly ache and my head is as twirly as a sparkly baton. And my herbal remedies just put me right to sleep! What’s a lady to do? All my fun vices no longer fulfill my brain’s love for free-thinking escapism. My body is practically forcing me to be healthy. The hell?

With all my recreational activities down the hole, I must find something to fill the void.