The Last Charade

Bionic

2011-03-05T05:45:00.005-05:00

Since this blog is all about MEMEMESHAMELESSSELFINDULGENCESLASHPROMOTIONOFME, and since I am grossly insecure, I will now list and detail (for the purposes of fortifying them in my memory) all the plastic surgery procedures I will one day have. Perfection is attainable if only you try.

1. Rhinoplasty- A shaving down of the bridge of the nose to create a more streamlined affect that matches better with my face. My face is super uneven because of my nose.

2. Have fat taken out of my checks to make my face less fleshy plus cheekbone implants

3. Turkey waddle reduction- suck the fat out of the underside of my chin. duh.

4. I don't know if there is some sort of procedure where they can make your eyes bigger, but if so that is totes on the list. My eyes are disgustingly small. Maybe a brow lift would do the trick?

5. Breast reduction- Big boobs are the grossest.

6. Somehow have fat sucked out of my upper chest so my collar bone protrudes more. I would like my upper body to look like a big coat hanger, thank you

7. Heavy duty liposuction. Even though every girl uses this excuse it really is true that we hold weight in our midsections easier and consequently they are the hardest places to lose extra lbs and tone.

7a. All over stomach lipo, including my flanks and just under my boobs

7b. Back lipo

7c. Lipo of my thighs and calves, especially where the ricotta cheese demon known as cellulite resides

8. LOBOTOMY

Barf

2011-03-03T10:40:00.004-05:00

Sitting in the GRK airport, I am acutely aware of the fact that I may or may not be about to heave my Monster M-80 all over myself. Any minute now, my grey luggage will be covered in a fizzy primrose barf ambrosia, I'm almost certain. It has been one of those mornings-well, days that has bled into a new morning, with nary a wink of sleep. My darling man and I parted ways today, he on his way to the Mojave for a month and I home to the east coast, so I was up all night packing and doing last-minute cleaning I swore I would do days ago. I cannot stand the thought of coming back to a grody apartment with eggs and sour cream and steak all becoming science experiments in the fridge, so I did a thorough sweep-through and made myself feel a little better. This trip was slightly unexpected for me. I had planned on staying behind and working, but all my most promising job prospects fell through, so once again disappointed and discouraged I hung my head and conceded that it was best not to be alone for so long with nothing to do and nowhere to go and no one to talk to.

I have been plagued with a chronic morning sickness since the first day of high school, when jitters got the best of me and I spent most of first period in the bathroom with my head out the window, desperate for a restorative breeze to cool my face and calm nerves. The Monster was a bad idea, but I'm drinking it because he bought it for me and was all sweet and cutesy like. He is on standby for his flight but had to be in early to wait around all day, so we said a rushed goodbye outside the airport and shared a brief but cozy embrace in the chilly morning air. We exchanged "I love you's" and last glances over shoulders and he made my heartbeat just a little faster (or was it that damn M-80 again?). I miss his little face already. I need to get on this plane and then the other plane and fall asleep and forget about feeling sick and tired and lonesome. No gagging just yet; I just need to sleep against something that smells like him and wait for this foolery to be over. It can't come soon enough. I'll be waiting.

Did I mention today is our anniversary?

Biscuit's Famous Chicken Terriyaki

2011-02-12T03:18:00.002-05:00

This is utterly unrelated to well, anything, but I made this tonight for the first time and I've gotta tell you, it's fantastic. My long time friend Biscuit makes this for me when I'm home and I finally got the recipe from her and had to try it for myself. I add slightly more water than she does since I find the terriyaki and soy sauce a little too salty still, but otherwise it is hers and she has all the credit. It's dead easy as well. My favorite recipes are minimal effort with maximum pleasure and this delivers.

Biscuit's Famous Chicken Terriyaki

2/3 cup soy sauce

1 cup terriyaki sauce

1/2 cup water

1/3 cup sugar

minced garlic clove

1lb of chicken (or however much desired)

enough rice to feed you and yours

1. Make the rice ahead of time and set it aside. It saves you the trouble of fiddling with it after the luscious chicken is all done

2. Chop up the chicken into cubes and bung them into a large frying pan over medium heat until they are nearly cooked through.

3. Mix together the soy, terriyaki, sugar, water and garlic and add it to the chicken

4. Bring to a low simmer for about 10 more minutes until the chicken is fully cooked and all tender and delicious

5. Test the sauce with a spoon (carefully!) to see if it needs more water or soy sauce or whatever. You may like it stronger than I do.

6. Combine chicken and rice in a bowl (don't you love recipes that are best served in a cozy bowl?) and apply to face in front of TV

What Can Blogging Do For You?

2011-02-11T17:21:00.004-05:00

Can we talk about something other than my douchey job search woes? Ok, good. Lately I've been thinking about how all this stress is impacting the way people see me, and have really just wanted to come on here and pour my heart out, but I can never bring myself to.

Self-loathing is my only full-time job, and when I look in the mirror (if I can bring myself to do that), I only see a frazzled, scraggly-haired and grey-faced Muppet who is better off going back to Jim Henson's Creature Shop reject bin than getting up and doing anything productive.

What to do, what to do.

It seems that writing is the only thing that salves my dereliction, both inside and out. There has always been something restorative to me about the stream of consciousness flow, the weight of days or weeks of built-up emotions leaves from my fingertips as they tap the keyboard. So many times I write and then look back and think, "That made absolutely no damn sense." And then I feel ashamed or embarrassed at my maudlin show of emotion and delete the post, which is silly because no one really reads them anyway. I think what I am getting at is that when it comes down to it, I don't do this for anyone but myself. I never have. As self-involved as this will sound, I believe I was born to write, in some capacity, and the best things I have written have not been churned out under the pressure of a whizzing-by deadline, but in random moments of inspiration. I wish everyone could know an outlet for their troubles like I know mine. In the future I only wish to be less afraid of posting what is really inside my heart, lest someone make light of my earnestness and cause me to retreat into blogging hermit-dom.

The scariest part is the next part. Hitting "post" and sending it all off into the ether of the interwebs. Of course, it's not nearly that serious. But for a shy girl like myself it can set off another anxiety attack, the kind that the post just written had probably alleviated. Double-edged sword, no? Yes? Ah well, it doesn't really matter.

Writing feels good. Writing makes me feel good, even if what I write is utter shit. And that's that. Now excuse me while I get out of my own head and watch Ugly Betty on Netflix.

Tomorrow

2011-01-15T00:42:00.003-05:00

Cross all of the appendages you are feasibly able to cross, because tomorrow I am applying for the 395729374590235490th job I have applied for since living in this lame state/town. I am not even going to say what it is, since that would be quite the jinx, and probably writing this post and putting it out into the universe is probably bad jojo (As David would say), but the die is cast and I do what I want! *stomps off in huff*

So! The wheels will be turning as of tomorrow, and maybe this little morsel put out into the world will come back to me like a boomerang in the form of gainful employment. That is all for now.

God Is In Control, People!

2010-12-08T15:14:00.002-05:00

God's got it. A cheery little bon mot from Hallmark card writers to liven your day, but really its true. I've been so down lately, because of a lot of things not just what you may expect, and I have to keep reminding myself that I have a purpose in this world other than to be what I am this very moment. Things can and will change, the currents of my life will vacillate and go bursting forth in the other direction until I am somewhere new.

Fruitful Friday

2010-10-29T16:50:00.003-04:00

"You look like hell. You should get some rest."

That's all I ever get any more. Rest. Never ending rest.

Although not really, since when my body is still my mind is not. Lots of things jockey for elbow room in my head space these days, chief among them not having a job. Join the club, you're saying. Many of my recently-graduated peers are lingering on the threadbare line between joblessness and dead-end job-ness, be it in the food service or retail industries, or nannying or what have you. I am not knocking any of those jobs or anyone who is hustling and doing what they have to do to make ends meet. I'm just expressing disappointment in myself that I am not more who I thought I would be at this age. Perhaps it's another one of my delusions of grandeur, and Lord knows I am prone to them, but I thought I would be in grad school, or backpacking through Europe or Asia, "finding myself." The truth is, I seemed to have indeed found myself in this wasteland in Texas, languishing and withering away in housewifely duties.

There has ceased to be a beginning and end to my days. I sleep so often and do so little with my wakefulness that there seems to be little point in getting out of bed. And this is worse than boredom, you guys. This is a chronic fatigue of my whole being, making me stumble in a haze at the grocery store, unable to cut my food at dinner. The lack of anything stimulating my brain seems to have osmosed into the rest of my body, sending me caterwauling into Zombieland. If only Emma Stone and Woody Harrelson were there to keep my company. I need more than a job to keep me and my checking account occupied. I need a new and better perspective on my life, I have realized. I should at least try and go to bed at a decent hour, even if David has to get up 4:30 and puncture my fitful sleep for a few minutes; to make time to write more, since it really does help, after all it was/is my life's passion since I was 5 years old. I would welcome suggestions on how to crawl out of this little hole I have dug, but luckily (or unluckily, depending on how you look at it) not many people visit this little blog. So I will end by saying thank you, whoever you are out there in the ether of the interwebz, for listening.

Daydreams

2010-10-15T01:11:00.002-04:00

What I think about:

a big girl job

a froofy soft plushy cool-against-my-skin down comforter for cozy fall nights

a wedding

David to never having to go back "over there"

being motivated to blog more, vlog more, and live more outside of our sad little apartment

Mini List

2010-09-07T19:34:00.003-04:00

Some things that should probably be shuffled off to the "Not Right" section of my life:

1. My diet lately consists of Monster energy drinks and leftover take out, occasionally punctuated with Haribo peaches and other various candies.

2. True Blood has take over my life. Redneck vampires cannot be beat.

3. Next to David, my most important relationship is with my Blackberry.

4. I have an irrational fear of attempting to do the things I most want to succeed at. Is that just me?

In other news, it is Senor David's birthday and he will not be home until after dinner. More time for laying around and looking at wedding and shower stuff on The Knot and The Bump? Don't mind if I do.

Joblessness

2010-09-06T22:10:00.003-04:00

Counting my non-blessings and thinking about my non-life have become my two latest and only passions. As I write, David is sitting next to me watching Star Wars and studying for his work exam that is the day after his birthday, September 7.

You know. Because he actually has gainful employment and goes to work everyday and is fulfilled and stuff.

Unlike moi, an increasingly malcontent imp who lays around our teeny apartment in a fog of lethargy.

Being jobless since January did not really hit me until I moved to Texas, since until May I was preoccupied with trying to graduate and missing David. Somehow I assumed that once I graduated I would be flooded with job prospects. Foolish. I probably picked one of the worst majors for that dream to be a reality, and now I am dealing with the hard and painful fact that I have a degree that is virtually useless in a military town in central Texas.

I am not and will never be qualified to fill any of the following positions that are most popular around here: tank mechanic, sheet metal cutter, nurse, insurance salesperson and finally restaurant employee of some ilk or another.

These are the reasons why I am not and will never be qualified: I shouldn't be allowed to work in the underbelly of a Matchbox car, let alone a tank; I'm less than accurate with a pair of safety scissors; I failed high school (and college) biology; being in sales of any kind robs you of your soul and makes you into just another lemming for The Man, or whatever; I would most assuredly spit in someone's food if they threw me shade.

I'm not asking for the world with a fence around it (Copyright: my Mom), or an executive suite in the top PR firm in the country with a view of the city skyline; or even an entry-level position with a view of a parking lot. At this point I would settle for subterranean-level with no lunch break and a view of a cubicle farm.

All I know is that I love to write; I love non-profit work and I love certain aspects (read: the fun ones) of the public relations industry. Writing for my college's newspaper showed me that news reporting probably isn't for me, but I still love the thrill of seeing my work published. So who knows where life will take me from here. I'm just along for the ride.

someone please hire me

How I'm Feeling

2010-04-15T23:05:00.000-04:00

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5_QffCZs-bg

Devil May Care

2010-04-11T19:04:00.002-04:00

One of these days, I will be that girl. If only for a day, I want to know what it's like to be her, you know the one. The one who lets her hair blow in the breeze through open car windows even though it's going to mess up her hair; who dances in parking lots and twirls around and doesn't care what people think because she's cool like that; who wears super awesome outfits that no one would ever think of putting together but she does because she's just that effortlessly fashionable; who gives and loves with abandon and speaks her mind without fear of retaliation because she knows that those who love her will always love her, no matter how different she is.

This devil may care idea is one I have toyed with adopting since oh, forever. But I have never been one to follow through with grandiose persona changes (another post entirely), and on days like this where I am buoyed by a filmy, electric haze of energy, I see that girl in myself.

Why? I'm glad you asked. I think I have always been attracted to these people because they are the complete opposite of my loserbookwormalwayspickedlastforteamsportsinfifthgradeandbeyond self. I would always say I was comfortable that way, because it was easier than owning up to my social failings. Lately I have been thinking that now is the time to do this, to be that better version of myself that I know is deep deep deep down there somewhere, who is outgoing and strong and independent and beautiful and celebrated by all as the epitome of womanly.

Don't get me wrong, though. I am so loved by my someone that it makes me crazy, makes me ill with joy and sorrow and fear and lovelovelove. But I know I could be better, be stronger and braver and wiser. And if there were any time to attempt this Change For the Better, it is now.

Because apparently I am now a Big Girl with Big Girl Responsibilities. This must mean that the Big Girl that has been hiding, or hidden, frustrated with her vessel's lack of progress these last twenty-some years is going to have her time very soon. Her captor has given up on sucking at life, and there is no more room for excuses. It's going to happen. Big Girl Things. Promise.

Gwen Blogs at Work

2010-03-11T11:05:00.003-05:00

So here I am at Habitat, ostensibly doing work ie cataloging bootleg lighting fixtures for Ebay, but really I have the urge to write. I talked to my friend Jace last night about why I don't write as much anymore and it all comes down to THE FEAR.

What kind of fear, you ask? Fear of failure. It's what usually keeps me from doing things I know I could excel at because let's face it, putting yourself out there is scary. At I'm not usually much of a risk-taker.

I'm thinking of doing Em's 30 Days of Blogging fandango to get me back into the habit because one day I really do want to write The Great American Novel, or something. And what is great writing without practice, even if it's sludge like this?

So here I am. This is the prologue to a New Me who loves writing just as much as she used to, and maybe one day will be good at it like she used to be. The "prodigal" writer, as her teacher's called her in grade school. Seems laughable now, but that talent (and moxie) is still in there somewhere. I just have to find it. So wish me bueno suerte.

On Blogging

2009-12-20T18:19:00.003-05:00

Me (and my wonky eyebrowns) in Ma's coat in last night's blizzard from HELL

Recently I have been inspired to blog more. And by recently I mean in the early morning hours of today, when I stayed up til almost 8 a.m. perusing other people's blogs and being jealous of their coolness. Woe to me in my neverending unhipness. I think my thing with blogging, tweeting, fbooking, or interneting in any kind of way is that it is hard for me to put so much of myself out there to be judged. I'm such a private person and I hate to think that people I don't even know will come across my posts and judge judge judge. I admire people like my cousin Em who puts herself out there, bare bones and daringly honest and beautiful and fascinating in her honesty. I want to be like THAT. Someone once said you have to be interested to be interesting and I think that is so spot-on. Those who have shared their interests with the interwebz have become ludicrously successful over the recent years, because they struck a nerve with people like me, holed up in their rooms, huddled under blankets, laptops firmly situated on tummies, hoping to find a kinship with others and thus not feel like such a freak. Feel me? Anyways, that is one of my resolution for the year.

2009-12-13T14:44:00.002-05:00

To Do:

Finish Profile Story

+Finish Book Report

+Figure out why they may not let me graduate in the spring

+Deal with internship and practicum nonsense

+Study for L.A.

+Study for History

+Finish portfolio

END OF SEMESTER AND DAVIDDAVIDDAVID

I'd Rather Be Blogging

2009-09-08T01:31:00.002-04:00

...than doing homework. Hence more lists!

Things that remind me of my best friend 1:

white nikes

blue eyes

The-Dream

smoking (unfortch)

kissing

Love Story

Javier

Matt Damon

unconditional love

cornflakes

spanglish

giving postcards after we've already gotten home

hokies

perfect teeth

banana nut muffins

dishpan hands

irish things

unconditional love

red hair

being a hot mama

procrastination

closet freaks

unconditional love

thinness

type-A personalities

CD mixes

cars with names

wild and crazy parents

unconditional love

2009-09-07T23:24:00.002-04:00

Things I Love (inspired by EmBellz)

Phone calls from David (duh)

David in general (also duh)

chitterlings (of a baby not food-persuasion)

LISTS!

COUNTDOWNS! (128 btdubs)

Futures

Lindsay Lohan

Britney

Mark Ruffalo

John Leguizamo

patience

seeing people in love

procrastination as an art form

The-Dream

texting at lightning speed

Firefly

gigantic purses

pretending to be studious

WW11 history

FAT BABY!!!!

Mae Elizabeth Ferrand

my necklace and ring

reading

buying new books and smelling their delectable un-creased smell

one day writing The Great American Novel

vigilante justice

my kids

babies

discovering new music and old music

Lady Gaga (dont even bother arguing)

Lily Allen

Katt Williams

entertaining the idea of one day becoming a teacher

being in love (barfbarfbarf)

Jesus

being anti-smoking and dating a smoker

being anti-war and dating a soldier

being pro-love and knowing that love never fails

one day traveling the world

Blue Moon

2009-04-11T14:16:00.001-04:00

This song has been in my head for I have no idea how long. Some one make it stop. That's all.

Morning Glory

2008-10-19T09:47:00.004-04:00

A blog- because there's nothing else to do at work

The day goes as follows: I wake up 45 minutes late for work. Typical. It's only my second day of being on my own and already I'm dropping the ball. Luckily, my lateness is partially overshadowed by the scheduling snafu that was caused by a dumb broad who decided she had better things to do than call out herself. Touching.

Speaking of touching, my swollen lymph node is getting smaller, so that's good. I feel like one of those colonial men who journal-led every day, about the menial and the mildly interesting.

"Today I woke up and said 50 hail Mary's. Martha made porridge for breakfast, which she knows I hate. I gave her 10 lashings. Praise be to God Almighty."

And so forth.

The alarm just went off and it took me minutes and minutes to shut it off. It was one I hadn't heard before, and I tried every combination I knew but to no avail. Finally i just punched in a random combination and it gave up and turned off mercifully.

My professor says I am too long-winded in my writing, so I will leave it at this for now.

Moody Blues

2008-10-18T20:31:00.002-04:00

Why am I the biggest gun-jumper ever? Someone slap me with an uncooked hot dog. That's all.

Ramblings

2008-10-18T11:14:00.001-04:00

I am writing to you from the exciting hub of America i.e. my bedroom. I am so green about this whole blog thing that just writing again is therapeutic. Ever since I was a wee devilish thing I've wanted to write, to tell stories and make people laugh and cry and maybe even pen a rave review or two. I figure that even if what I write is total shit, and most of the time it will be, it will work out the rust and old screws from my writing and I will see some sort of progression.

Currently Listening: Scissor Sisters

Future Second Husband

2008-10-17T20:21:00.000-04:00

My Loves

2008-10-17T20:08:00.000-04:00

Nub and Thrust: The Sex Column

2008-10-15T21:45:00.000-04:00

I am writing this for the benefit of those ladies who were once where I used to be: lost in a fog of their own naivete and potential whoriness. My advice on relationships is sparse, seeing as how I've only been attached for a short while, but what I do know I feel compelled to share in the event that it prevents some poor drip from making the same mistakes I made. It's one thing to get advice on your skankery from Cosmo or Elle, which I love and am by no means hating on, but to hear it from someone like you who has been there is entirely different.

1. STOP BEING SO AVAILABLE.

This is essential. Thus it's the first point. If you spend every ten minutes texting, calling, or generally being up the rectum of your potential or current partner, you are going to annoy the hell out of him or her. Not only that, but eventually you get sick of each other and have nothing to talk about. Unless talking isn't what you're into in the first place...

2. HEY! WHORA INGALLS WILDER! KEEP IT IN YOUR PANTS.

I know as well as anyone that in this day and age of rampant hobaggery, the goods are more valuable than ever. Besides the obvious risks of the herp et al and emotional nonsense that comes with being a grade A hooker, it makes you one of many. And that's never a good place to be. See below picture of my favorite trollop and recently ousted Danity Kane member, the classy and gorgeous Miss Aubrey O'Day.

3. FROM THE CHELSEA HANDBOOK: DO NOT CONTACT HIM FIRST.

It's all about the chase, kids. This is just common freaking sense to me, but apparently not to the ten million tricks who whine about why their potential butt buddy doesn't want to talk to them, AFTER they've spent their whole day textually stalking them. Men enjoy the chase. Seriously. And don't think for a second that playing coy will deter the man (or manwhore, as it were) who knows what he wants. Sluts are decisive!

Favorite Manwhore and dirty douchepickle

4. TEXTUAL INTERCOURSE.

DON'T DO IT. PERIOD. By this, I mean no sending pictures of your naked drunk ass, slutty texts, videos or anything to that end unless you want it to take a few laps around YouTube in the future when the receiver kicks you to the curb.

5. SUCK IT UP, NANCY! STOP BEING SO SENSITIVE.

This is not so obvious to most chicks, as we live in a bubble of false expectations and are treated like the glorious Georgia O'Keefe flowers that we are, but life is tough. Get a helmet. (I know I know the Boy Meets World reference has seen better days). Nevertheless, it is imperative that you stop taking the littlest things so seriously and reading into facial ticks and random hand gestures or whatever that mean little more than the fact that your man is fidgety or gassy or just a weirdo. I am incredibly guilty of this and have seen what comes of making it a habit. So for your own good, cut it out.

Ecuador

2008-10-12T19:26:00.000-04:00

In keeping with my newfound wanderlust, I am sojourning to Ecuador in January with Global Volunteer. I am not prepared for snakes and spiders *shudder* and the indigenous people making fun of me in their native tongue, but the time has come to leave home for a while and get a bit of clarity and perspective on the big wide world.

I'll update more as it approaches, but I'm already racked with traveler's nerves. Sounds to me like this pansy needs an ass-kicking, and nothing does that better than being plopped down into a country where no one speaks your language and the present you bring home is one you'll spend six to eight weeks getting rid of.

The bright side of all of this is that I will hopefully get to teach English in the schools, and get to live in one of the most gorgeous and sought-after places in the world for two weeks. Service is my passion (no bj jokes pleaseandthankyou), so I'm finally ready to take the first step.