Sunday, June 12, 2011

two thoughts

Allow me to apologize if this post lacks eloquence or ends up being long and rambling or short and lacking. I stayed up late last night reading and woke up early to pack & leave the beach. Which, I must add, was an incredibly difficult thing to do. It's a rarity to have our family all in one place, having such a blast. I will miss the ghost crab hunting, the delicious food and endless alcohol, the corn hole games, the ocean waves, the salt & sand, the sun, the late night movies and talks out on the deck with wine & cigars. And taking a walk along the beach at midmorning. Time to think. Time to be. Mostly, I miss my family. As much as I bitch and moan, no one's family is perfect, and mine is pretty damn special when it comes down to it.
Now, to my original point(s). First, I want to post—at some point, maybe when I'm more motivated and less sleepy and sad—about our society's typically unreachable expectations regarding female beauty. I have thought & written about this numerous times in the past, but it's really hitting me now harder than ever before. Maybe because I struggle with self-esteem issues (like every other female), especially looking at all those clearly computer-edited, eerily "flawless" magazine covers and skimming all the little "101 must-read beauty tips" and "how to attract the perfect guy" and "how to make your friends jealous" and on and on and on. We can never reach the unattainable, and yet we strive. I will admit I do love feeling "feminine," but I started thinking about how much I pluck and conceal and coat and cover...all to what end? Will I ever feel "good" enough or "attractive" enough? And how much do I do simply because I feel pressured to by whatever unrealistic feminine ideals are dominating the media and the minds of everyone perpetually exposed? I used to feel repelled by women who didn't wear bras or didn't shave because A) society had taught me these kinds of things were unacceptable for attractive women with good hygiene and B) well, I live in a place that's full of hippies and self-righteous pseudo-hippies, so that definitely turned me off after a while. But now I'm thinking, why the hell not join them? Why the fuck do I shave my armpits if I really don't care whether or not they're stubble-free? Why are we constantly battling what is only natural? And then we wonder why we're so unhappy.
I don't plan to become a super hairy feminazi overnight, but really, when you think about these things, so much of what we do and worry about is so fucking ridiculous. All just sheep in one giant discontented herd. And women especially. I already hate the fact that women who curse or have a crude sense of humor are considered by many to be "unladylike." We can't burp or fart. And we certainly don't poop. What are we? What are we becoming? I especially feel frustrated when I'm around girls and women who are so stuck on these ideals that they can't fathom straying away from them and act horrified when others do. We need to free ourselves, somehow.
The second thing I wanted to discuss...what was it? Something about how I've realized that it's OK not to be friends with people you may feel you "should" be friends with, whether you have mutual acquaintances, are part of the same organization, etc. Because not everyone clicks. And I certainly know pretty much off the bat who I'm going to click with and who isn't really worth my time. I'll be respectful, but just like some people don't like me (I imagine), I don't like everyone. It's impossible. If you try to please everyone and to be friends with everyone, those truly special relationships lose their value, and you lose some of your authenticity & ultimately fail. I'd rather have a few real, close friends than a load of people I have to fake it with. Seriously. Life is too short to fuck around. Maybe that's my new motto. And I really don't like it when people who likely don't give a shit about me pretend to be overly friendly. Don't waste my time.
Anyway, I think I'm falling asleep, so I have to go. More on all this later, perhaps.

Monday, June 6, 2011

how to feel

I think and feel so much, especially on vacation when I'm inundated with new sights and sounds, especially around family, especially when I have free time to think. Yet I feel like I can't express anything, at least not adequately. Of course, no one can, but the issue becomes more overwhelming when I'm feeling a thousand things at once and trying to process so many thoughts and observations. Sometimes I think I feel too much. Then when I do communicate, I'm constantly nagged by the awareness that I'm only rattling off programmed responses—meanwhile a whole sea of emotions stirs beneath the veneer.
Focusing on these magnified inevitabilities only prevents me from engaging with my surroundings.
But, I've written all this before.
Anyway, beautiful trip so far. As frustrating as family can be, they're also such a blessing.

Saturday, June 4, 2011

beachin' it

So, my parents and I are about to leave for our family beach trip. We're staying in a house with my brothers, sister-in-law, brother's girlfriend, baby nephew, and a dog. As long as I get my own space, I'll be a happy camper.
I move pretty slowly in the mornings, but my mom is the slowest packer of all time. She spends most of the time fretting over every little detail. I guess someone has to be responsible for all the details.
My dad is currently struggling to squeeze a 600 lb corn-hole game he purchased for the cost of a really nice pair of shoes into the already overpacked car. I don't understand why he is so stubborn about bringing it along; I can't imagine anyone will want to haul it out to the beach in the 100 degree heat. Nose goes on that one. It is about as tall as a door frame and impossible to lift without a second pair of hands. Apparently corn-hole is "in vogue" now—how is that even possible? And, has any game ever had a less appealing name?
We are staying somewhere in Virginia Beach, a first for our family. I'm not sure what to expect, but at least I know there will be ocean, and sunshine, and books to read, and good music to listen to, and cold beer to drink. I absolutely love sitting out on the beach and listening to a song that makes me feel totally transcendent—you know what I'm talking about? A high without drugs. I love my mountains, but it's hard to beat the sights and sounds of the beach. Mornings when the sun is rising and the sky is a thousand different hues and the beach is deserted save a few dedicated joggers and gulls dipping down into the waves. Cool nights and calm waters. Whitecaps and boats dotting the horizon.
We have to leave now. If I sounded overly pessimistic in this post, it's because A) that's my go-to mode and B) I'm always in a much worse mood when I haven't had much sleep. But really, I am looking forward to this trip. And seeing my family. Well, I'm not 100% on that last part, but you know how it is.