So I had a really funny thought today. I was walking into work and decided I wanted coffee. The problem was, it was super warm out and I didn't want something hot but I most definitely needed the caffeine so I thought that perhaps I would get an iced coffee. Here is where my brain's logic goes spiraling. I apologize in advance.
So, the coffee place near my office has amazing coffee swirls- a coffee milkshake of sorts. They are frozen and coffeeriffic and wonderful because you get your caffeine and refreshing drink in one. I am not a fan of traditional iced coffees because the bitterness of coffee only tastes good to me when it is warm. Did I get a coffee swirl even though it's what I wanted? No, I did not. I got a small, hot traditional cup of hot coffee.
WHY you ask?
Because my mother has made me a paranoid, neurotic mess of a person.
No, I'm serious. I'm not pulling a Dr. Phil and blaming my mother because I can. I could actually hear my mother's voice in my head telling me not to get the coffee swirl because it's a dessert and this was 8:50am which is far too early for a dessert. Except that when I broke it down, the coffee swirl of choice is a mocha-espresso swirl. This means it has espresso ground with cocoa beans and is then blended with milk and ice. No extra sugar. In my regular coffee, I put in cream and 2 sugars. So, really, even though one naturally tastes sweeter, it's better for you because they use a natural cocoa and not processed chocolate. And even as I stood in the doorway rationalizing all of this, I still couldn't get past the idea that drinking a swirl was inappropriate.
I'm 24 and I'm concerned that my mother will be disappointed in me if I drink a sweet coffee. Meanwhile, my grandfather, her father, put 4 heaping tablespoons of sugar into every cup of coffee and tea he drank for the past 40 years and now has adult diabetes. If she were using the genetic predisposition to diabetes as an excuse as to why I shouldn't drink sweet things before noon, I'd understand, but her rationale really has more to do with the actual clock than it does anything else. Noon is apparently suddenly an appropriate time for sugar. This also make sno sense because when I was in college, noon was my morning but I could have sugar first thing because it was noon. More than that, why does it matter what my mother, who is 30 miles away, thinks about my choices for drink? It's not as though I have a huge bowl of fruit loops with piles of sugar and a pixie stick for breakfast. I actually eat fairly responsibly most of the time. I mean, seriously, I have yogurt every day for breakfast and I eat salad at least twice a week as a meal.
I guess I always knew I'd hit the point where my mom's words were going to really sink in and I'd start to agree with her, whether or not I actually agree with the logic...it's part of the brainwashing she's been working on since birth. Before long, I'm going to be saying things like, "oh, I'll buy the plain white button down because it's a classic piece and will never go out of style" or "I really shouldn't buy those heels because they may hurt my feet after 2-3 hours."
Actually, do me a favor- if I ever hit the point where I don't buy a cute pair of shoes because even though they are comfortable in the store I think they MAY hurt sometime in the future should I wear them all day, kill me. You have my permission.
Thursday, May 24, 2007
Monday, May 14, 2007
Apparently I'm Old
I know I just turned 24 and that in the grand scheme of things I'm still in the younger part of my life and all of that, but the fact of the matter is that I can see that I am getting old.
First of all, I have gray hair. Not a little bit of gray hair. I have enough gray hair to warrant the girl who cuts my hair to talk to me about the "great gray coverage" that is available to me in their new hairdyes. Also, it's starting to be noticeable in pictures. AND my father (from across the room) said to me "Wow, you're really turning gray there." I muttered something about the pot calling the kettle black.
Second, my joints used to crack and pop and feel better but now some of them crack and pop and feel...the same. The beginning of arthritis mayhaps? I can't be sure, but I can tell you that my middle finger on my right hand has been cracked 7 times so far today (it's now 1pm) and still feels like maybe it's not in joint. Of course, it IS possible that it is not in joint and that I'm cracking a dislocated finger over and over again which would also explain the unexplainable pain. I can't remember if I injured it or not recently.
Third, my memory seems to be shot to hell lately. Tell me something once, twice, three times, doesn't matter- I'm going to remember what I want to remember and a lot of it isn't going to stick. Like whether or not I've recently injured my finger--you'd think that this would be one of those times my brain would wake up and say, "Hey! You! Dumbass! Pay attention!" but I can't be sure.
Fourth, I look tired in pictures. It used to be that when I was tired, I had to announce this to make everyone aware that I was tired because I never looked tired. Now, on the other hand, I look tired. I don't have undereye circles or anything but my eyes look puffy and droopy if it's past 1am and I'm having my picture taken. This brings me to...
Fifth, I have trouble staying up much past midnight. In college, my bedtime was around 5am and now, I'm passing out in front of Grey's Anatomy. This is just pathetic. I've actually fallen asleep on my bed while chatting on aim on my laptop. THIS MUST STOP. I feel as though I'm turning into a narcoleptic impostor of my former self.
First of all, I have gray hair. Not a little bit of gray hair. I have enough gray hair to warrant the girl who cuts my hair to talk to me about the "great gray coverage" that is available to me in their new hairdyes. Also, it's starting to be noticeable in pictures. AND my father (from across the room) said to me "Wow, you're really turning gray there." I muttered something about the pot calling the kettle black.
Second, my joints used to crack and pop and feel better but now some of them crack and pop and feel...the same. The beginning of arthritis mayhaps? I can't be sure, but I can tell you that my middle finger on my right hand has been cracked 7 times so far today (it's now 1pm) and still feels like maybe it's not in joint. Of course, it IS possible that it is not in joint and that I'm cracking a dislocated finger over and over again which would also explain the unexplainable pain. I can't remember if I injured it or not recently.
Third, my memory seems to be shot to hell lately. Tell me something once, twice, three times, doesn't matter- I'm going to remember what I want to remember and a lot of it isn't going to stick. Like whether or not I've recently injured my finger--you'd think that this would be one of those times my brain would wake up and say, "Hey! You! Dumbass! Pay attention!" but I can't be sure.
Fourth, I look tired in pictures. It used to be that when I was tired, I had to announce this to make everyone aware that I was tired because I never looked tired. Now, on the other hand, I look tired. I don't have undereye circles or anything but my eyes look puffy and droopy if it's past 1am and I'm having my picture taken. This brings me to...
Fifth, I have trouble staying up much past midnight. In college, my bedtime was around 5am and now, I'm passing out in front of Grey's Anatomy. This is just pathetic. I've actually fallen asleep on my bed while chatting on aim on my laptop. THIS MUST STOP. I feel as though I'm turning into a narcoleptic impostor of my former self.
Tuesday, May 01, 2007
Birthday Goodness
It used to be that my birthday was one day and it ended with cake and candles and that was the end of that. This year, not the case.
Of course, I am coming off of a couple of years of...awkward birthdays wherein something went horribly awry:
2006: Went up to visit old friends where there was just a lot of other drama going on and the overall craziness of emotional baggage came out. That and we saw the MOST emo band on the face of the earth. No one but Motion City Soundtrack would stop a performance to make sure that the crowd was ok and to "rock, but be safe!" God, they were super whiny.
2005: Pulled an all-nighter to finish my thesis and ended up crying on the phone at the Chameleon who "forgot" my birthday. By "forgot" I mean that he forgot to say happy birthday but had called to wish be a happy birthday but got distracted when he realized he woke me up about 5 minutes after I decided I would pass out.
2004: Turned 21 and decided to get "too drunk to remember my own middle name." This was more or less accomplished. Also, part of the motivation for getting that drunk was to avoid social awkwardness.
2003: My birthday got somewhat pushed back to the end of the semester because there was too much going on with directing and producing and school overall. Very anti-climatic day. Spent it with the Pippin Cast and ended up sitting on the floor of some girl's dormroom (who I hadn't previously met) watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer.
2002: Decent day, very small celebration, but my family forgot to call me until about 9pm. Awesome, since it was my first birthday away from home.
2001: Nearly all of my friends were away on a church retreat thing just before my birthday and came back all "woo-hoo, we love each other and are so close emotionally and you weren't there so you weren't in on it at all."
2000: Had my birthday on a choir trip on the day we were being judged. My friends threw me a surprise party as I was walking out of the shower and I nearly flashed everyone in my room. That's all that needs to be said there.
This year, however, it seemed to be a week-long celebration for some reason. This was not my doing, I swear. In fact, my plan was to go out Saturday night and just have a decent time since my birthday was Sunday and call it a day. Instead, things went down a bit more like this:
Friday night the Chameleon took me out to dinner and we had rainbow cake/napoleon dessert.
Saturday I went to the Secret Angster's bridal party, went out to dinner with the parents, then hung out with a decently group of people:
Ms. J. Crew
Miss Yankee
The Equestrian
The Almost-New Guy
Mr. *heart*
Mr. *heart*'s girlfriend
The Hippie
Mr. Mac
The Architect
The Pirate
Sunday was a continuation of craziness because we went to The Architect's parents' house for his moving party wherein people there sang me happy birthday. A little weird since it was supposed to be a goodbye party and I felt bad taking away any attention.
A birthday weekend just seems a bit too long...
Of course, I am coming off of a couple of years of...awkward birthdays wherein something went horribly awry:
2006: Went up to visit old friends where there was just a lot of other drama going on and the overall craziness of emotional baggage came out. That and we saw the MOST emo band on the face of the earth. No one but Motion City Soundtrack would stop a performance to make sure that the crowd was ok and to "rock, but be safe!" God, they were super whiny.
2005: Pulled an all-nighter to finish my thesis and ended up crying on the phone at the Chameleon who "forgot" my birthday. By "forgot" I mean that he forgot to say happy birthday but had called to wish be a happy birthday but got distracted when he realized he woke me up about 5 minutes after I decided I would pass out.
2004: Turned 21 and decided to get "too drunk to remember my own middle name." This was more or less accomplished. Also, part of the motivation for getting that drunk was to avoid social awkwardness.
2003: My birthday got somewhat pushed back to the end of the semester because there was too much going on with directing and producing and school overall. Very anti-climatic day. Spent it with the Pippin Cast and ended up sitting on the floor of some girl's dormroom (who I hadn't previously met) watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer.
2002: Decent day, very small celebration, but my family forgot to call me until about 9pm. Awesome, since it was my first birthday away from home.
2001: Nearly all of my friends were away on a church retreat thing just before my birthday and came back all "woo-hoo, we love each other and are so close emotionally and you weren't there so you weren't in on it at all."
2000: Had my birthday on a choir trip on the day we were being judged. My friends threw me a surprise party as I was walking out of the shower and I nearly flashed everyone in my room. That's all that needs to be said there.
This year, however, it seemed to be a week-long celebration for some reason. This was not my doing, I swear. In fact, my plan was to go out Saturday night and just have a decent time since my birthday was Sunday and call it a day. Instead, things went down a bit more like this:
Friday night the Chameleon took me out to dinner and we had rainbow cake/napoleon dessert.
Saturday I went to the Secret Angster's bridal party, went out to dinner with the parents, then hung out with a decently group of people:
Ms. J. Crew
Miss Yankee
The Equestrian
The Almost-New Guy
Mr. *heart*
Mr. *heart*'s girlfriend
The Hippie
Mr. Mac
The Architect
The Pirate
Sunday was a continuation of craziness because we went to The Architect's parents' house for his moving party wherein people there sang me happy birthday. A little weird since it was supposed to be a goodbye party and I felt bad taking away any attention.
A birthday weekend just seems a bit too long...
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