Tuesday, August 23, 2011

Throwback

Vintage is in my friends.
The kind of vintage that screams taking it back to the 8th grade.
Side tied shirts were awesome. Braces? Even better.
Eyeliner was everywhere. Black eyes were sexy.
Myspace was everything.
Lunch table spots were prime real estate.
Baggy jeans were the bomb.
Saying the bomb was cool.
Back packs were supposed to hit the back of your knees.
Everyone had their little kid pudge on.
Likes, interests, love interests, and hobbies could be described based on the content of the locker door.
Before high school drama of who was dating who.
When it was taboo to let anyone know of you secret crush.
Before we could all date. Based on the assumption that everyone's parents wouldn't let them enter into the sacred practice until the ripe old age of 16.
When it was cool to "go out" even though you didn't actually GO anywhere.
When the junior high dance consisted of boys on one side and the ladies on the other.
Dancing was both hands on each other's shoulders.
Apart from that one daring-hot-shockingly cavalier dude that put his hands on her waste. You go-getter you!
Even more common was the girl being taller than the little man. He hasn't hit his growth spurt, alright?
When texting wasn't even alive and it was all notes being passed in lockers with boxes that were supposed to be checked.
Curfew was 10:00 PM.
Ah, the lack of responsibility when grades didnt even count.
Now its all,
15,16,17 credits more.
18,19,20 credits bore.
No boxes to be checked. Only text messages. Confirming dates. Who uses a phone anymore?
No taboo secret crushes (except for mine on Ryan Reynolds. Don't worry baby I'm comin' to get you!)
Touching is alright, even welcomed.
Eyeliner has been restrained, but everything else has exploded until the person underneath is unrecognizable. The beauty of foundation.
My mom lets me date.... sort of.
My low slung back pack has turned into a leather weekender bag appropriate for my Mac.
My vintage flavor jeans instead of being baggy Gap jeans have turned into vintage 1970's high wasted trouser jeans, appropriate for both work and play. Not exactly the most comfortable when they're riding up in the most uncomfortable of places... If you know what I mean.
Facebook is everything.
"Going out" is now dinner and an awkward activity intended to break the ice. Thank you, but I will take my pasta and bowling shoes to-go.
Instead of finding a good lot at the lunch tables in the cafeteria, its meeting an old friend at a restaurant to "catch up." We all know its gossip about the people we used to know.
Serious relationships take precedence.
My life cant be described on the content of my locker door, rather on the walls of my chic college apartment.
The men are taller. And they are "men" now.
Curfew is 12:00... well not much has changed there.
Those were the days, and well so are these days.
Kicking it oldschool for now,
T. (14 years old)

Monday, August 8, 2011

Dream interpretation while avoiding Freud

I had the strangest dream the other night.
First, before I explain the dream please realize that I tried to make every Freudian assumption I could and nothing dirty ever came of it. Trust me I tried.
There is nothing scandalous that can be derived from this dream. Sad? Yes.


Dream:
I am driving in my beautiful and sexy automobile.
Along side me a peacock is running beside me.
I am running from him.
When I finally rush into my house there is a knock at the door.
When i open the door there stands the peacock.
He speaks up and asks for his feathers back.

What the devil can this mean?

I told this dream to my mother and we sat in the car contemplating what it means.

She said that Peacocks symbolizes attitude, and the peacock was asking for its attitude back.

I am open to suggestions. G could be right I suppose.

With much attitude,
T.

Friday, August 5, 2011

The building with the golden guy at the top.



There was a point in my life a few weeks ago that my life and point of view changed.


I watched her walk out.
She was smiling, I was crying -- not because I was sad, but because I was so happy for her.
She was so happy for herself.
She was purely, unadulteratedly, simply happy.

My life changed.
I knew she was going to come out of that building a different person.
From that point on she had someone else attached to her, forever.
I was apart of this great love affair.

I had never really wanted to be bound to someone like that.
I had never felt the need for constant companionship, and I have only experienced companionship in short bursts of an excellerated pace.

I want that. Im not jealous of what she has, I am simply wanting that for myself.

I no longer think in the terms of just T.
I want to answer that guest card T+1, please.
I want to be a packaged deal.
a bundle.
eventually a group.

Life isn't just about me anymore. Its about what I will do to get what I want. What I need in order to be truly successful here on this earth.



I have suddenly become one of those girls that we all gossip about, mock secretly. Maybe they have more gumption and gusto than the rest of us. To be forward about what they want. They march forward with true conviction about their intents. I
am now that girl.

She changed me.
She motivated me to become that girl, and I then realized exactly what I am missing.

My other half.

On the prowl,
T.