i went broke believin' that the simple should be hard

"all we are, we are, and every day is the start of something beautiful."

i journeyed back to Manhattan on the LIRR from Ronkonkoma station, collapsing in exhaustion and smirking at how that station name belongs in Hawaii rather than the concrete jungle.  i made the mistake of downloading the "Words with Friends" app on my iPhone because i apparently am choosing to never be productive and fuel my inexplicable desire to be competitive about questionable non-competitive activities. i blasted my iPod in unfulfilled hope of drowning out the hoards of underdressed and overmade up partygoers who were drunkenly yelling about whether or not Jennifer and Michael were "just hanging out" or "official." one of the 17-year-olds-using-the-ID-of-their-older-sister girls remarked that it was "complicated."

i glanced back at my phone in longing desperation, praying that i could pump the volume just a little bit higher to overpower the obnoxious shrill emanating from my right.  as i sifted through songs and searched for an"erase your memory of this train ride" app, i realized that all of my fancy, technologically advanced "gaming" apps are simplistic board games or booklet games, like word searches and crossword puzzles and madlibs. 

lately i've been examining my relationship with technology, trying to eliminate the timewasters and maximize the productivity.  just how detrimental of a turn would my life take if i didn't know that someone i never liked in high school likes my check-in at "that bar i went to last Friday."  of course Facebook, twitter, and social media in general have their place.  for example, i went to Yankee Stadium today and need to share with the world how close i was to AJ Burnett to incite envy.  and starting revolutions in Egypt or whatever.  but other people's opinions very rarely impact my inane daily activities that i evidently need to share with the rest of the world, and i certainly don't need to be alerted about them every five seconds.

is my life made simpler by having all of these games a click away on my phone, or more complicated by how it's going to drain my battery life later?  should we all be carrying around word search books and mad lib pads like camp counselors attempting to entertain a trouble child?  do i default to my phone just because it's available or did it prevent me from committing felonies by soothing my desire to beat the crap out of that irritating gaggle of club kids?

beyond the scope of technology, it's human nature to complicate things, at least for some of us.  maybe without these complications, we wouldn't appreciate raw simplicity for it's face value, which becomes sexier to me by the second.  it's why waking someone up in the middle of night to tell them you love them for the first time is more romantic than plastering it on a scoreboard, and why accepting death is the only way to cope with it, and why self-loathing is only cured by self-respect and motivation,  and why aggravating train passenger Jennifer would know how to act at the bar if she and Michael would define if they were dating or not.

as someone who spends more time in her head than she probably should, i also know my propensity to do so, and know that there's a threshold where you cross from "thinking through" to unproductive, draining, and exhausted.  if you find depth but aren't in so deep you bottom out, you strike gold.  if your stifle your feelings until they explode or wallow in the waters of your own troubles, you strike out. 

we all know how important it is to let go when we "need" to; when a road block stands so tall and strong it obstructs the vision of your every day life.  but do we let go when we "should," or more importantly, when we "could" let go of something that aids us in deteriorating by eating away at us slowly rather than swallowing us whole? if we drew straight lines of simplicity, would the complicated stop bending itself into question marks? what if there was no such thing as passive-aggressive and we lived within reasonable honesty?

it doesn't take surgery to die of complications
-k.

some john mayer lyrics or something

getting a phone call from your cousin that someone broke her heart sucks.  i couldn't sleep, and i was thinking about heartbreak and about this phone call and the twinge of pain and overprotective instinct it brought.

i've gone on record before, and will again, about how i hate the majority of love songs and why.  i remember talking to my dad about affairs of the heart, and he raised the point that extreme romance is absurd not because it's so corny or produced by Hallmark, but because nobody is going to ask you to "walk to the end of the earth" for them.  but, they might ask you to stand with you while you deliver a eulogy or help move their parents from a nine person house to a modest home for two. 

it was then that every "he'd walk a million miles just to hear her voice" and "i can't live without you" lyric started to sound more and more trite.  if someone is going to walk a million miles to hear your voice, they should instead walk one mile to a local store and purchase a cell phone.  and maybe a map, or a book called "The Idiot's Guide To How Miles Work."  it's scientifically proven that you can in fact live without "that person" in your life.  you were doing it the whole time before you fell in love.

everyone has blue, green, or brown eyes (or hazel if you're a heartbreaker or Kelly Clarkson).  if you're going to write a song about someone's eyes, please don't write "i remember his/her eyes." please write "the light, the heat--in your eyes--i am complete--in your eyes--i see the door way to a thousand churches--and resolution to all of my fruitless searches."  the best love songs are the real love songs; the ones that really say something (see Brandi Carlile: The Story). the best love songs aren't about how you feel about them, or how they feel about you; but about what the hell it all means when they collide.

the reason love songs have to be real is because those seemingly lofty, over-the-top, unreal moments are made completely real by love.  similarly, looking back on the most real moments of a relationship should seem like you've fallen into something unreal.  naturally, the end of such love, especially through the eyes of betrayal, brings about equally as sincere pain.  which is expressed through crappy My Chemical Romance emo ballads or amazing Alice in Chains songs off of "Dirt."  until you get angry. then it's Rage Against The Machine. 

in a previous blog i said the purpose of any form of love is self discovery and the discovery of someone/something else.  when that love is the "in love" type, it's also that both of you trust that you can build something outside of self that is greater than you are as individuals; that you combine smiling from your soul with the treatment you deserve and have been willing to give all along.  i'm pretty sure i still agree with that. 

love demands a certain type of balance and self-awareness; that's why you always seem to find love when you are self prioritizing. if you fall on the needy side, you reek of desperation, regardless of how cool, calm, and collected you think you are. if you break on the guarded side, you'll continue to hide behind fierce independence as if we can't see it's covering up the damage and hesitation yielded by a previous trainwreck, or how your parents didn't love you enough, or those other painful issues in life that keep you from pursuing anything, much less love.  you have to be honest with yourself and clean these skeletons out of your closet because they'll grow up with you.   then when someone great challenges you, you'll run into the arms of someone gently ordinary, perhaps your local bartender.  or, when someone mediocre comes along, you treat them like a knight in shining armor even if they're just wearing a burger king crown on a carousel. 

there's an iconic image of two swans bent at the neck facing each other to create the shape of a heart.  don't try this at home, but it looks like a pretty uncomfortable position to be in.  if you're so lost in staring at each other, you'll have blinders on to what lays ahead, and you'll crash and burn your way into the tunnel of love.  if you never look at each other, you might as well navigate the waters on your own.  best to swim side by side.

-k

the trifecta.

everything is turning up hensler right now.

i don't normally write about things like this. it's kind of embarrassing to share, but we met online. i begrudgingly admit that this crush has been developing for a while now. i hadn't told too many people about it--i was sick of getting hurt and getting my hopes up.

so we met in person. i hoped that my hair looked alright. i don't normally get jittery about these things, but i couldn't deny the growing feeling in the pit of the stomach that we both may feel a real connection; that intangible something everyone looks for. i felt my heart swelling in my chest, pounding as loud as the thoughts in my head. i clasped my sweaty palms with an uncomfortable nervousness. he greeted me with a friendly, genuine smile. it was so exciting from beginning to end considering how routine it breaks down on paper. we waited for a table to open up, he offered me a drink, but i politely denied. after a short wait, a table opened up. out the window to my right was a beautiful view of the city that i underappreciate during the daytime. it's always uncomfortable when there are more chairs than people. it's less awkward if you sit across from each other rather than next to each other--it's easier to make eye contact--a common trick. he started to ask questions about who i was--not those typical where are you from, how many siblings do you have type of questions, but i could tell he really wanted to grasp who i was. i countered with (hopefully)clever questions of my own. everything seemed fairly normal. anything that a young lady would put on her checklist came through (personality, financial stability, etc). in one short hour, i was one of the lucky few to find that inexplicable chemistry that everyone looks for. i was giddy with excitement and couldn't wait to hear from him later that week. normally meeting someone for the first time isn't that big of a deal, but i don't fall in love easily, and head over heels doesn't seem that far fetched with this one. i had to slow myself down to stop thinking about the future we could have.

i knew it was love at first sight with this PR firm. i've had a PR crush on LaunchSquad PR since the first time i saw them in PR weekly. and yes, i'm a nerdy enough 23 year old that i follow a trade magazine.

when i was younger i dreamed of being everything from a dancer, to a veterinarian, to a New York Yankee, to a lawyer, to a sports broadcaster. when i got into college, as mentioned in previous posts, i developed a slightly more corporate dream of practicing PR. it's been said that you can't explain to your own mother the definition of "Public Relations." in fact, there are people in this world who think they are practicing PR, and are actually practicing marketing or advertising. with this murkiness, it's easy to see how every firm can do PR a little differently. thus, wide-eyed aspiring PR practitioners/artists/employees/nerds often develop favorites. the lucky ones, and hopefully talented and proactive ones, get hired by their PR superheros, and in this economy are lucky to get hired at all. this Monday, it wasn't a bird, it wasn't a plane. it was LaunchSquad PR calling. they proposed to me a job, and i couldn't have said i do any faster.

two hours later, my sister landed an acting gig in addition to her steady acting job. we were ecstatic, frequently checking in with my fly-by-night adventure mom and dad, who are vacationing/working (respectively) in beautiful Phoenix while my dad is on an account in Arizona. for anyone who knows my mother, we are all startled by how good she has gotten at 1)spontaneously going with the flow 2)sitting still and relaxing.

less than a week prior, i was laid up watching post-season baseball (no complaints) and staring at my white walls while dwelling in unemployed self pity and swelling ankle sprain pain (many complaints). earlier i had been piggybacked to the ER by my friend/savior who had noted that my ankle looked like it was pregnant with another ankle. it seemed like a physical representation of the seven months of job hunting that was soon coming to an end, unknown to me at the time.

less than three months ago i was miserably unemployed, my parents couldn't move their on-the-market home, and my sister was an actress who was humming along at a day job.

now, i am going steady with my PR crush, my sister is an actress both to pay her bills and to practice, and my parents will be living in New York at the end of the month and ignored my phone calls today because they fell asleep at poolside. they aren't as sorry as they pretend. they plan to see the grand canyon while they are out there.

it's amazing how life can change on a whim. at one point, life had changed to losing employment status (and an actual romantic break up), sickness and sinus surgery for my sister, and tons of stress and preparation for a house sale.

but that's what's beautiful about spiraling into unpredictable tunnels of change that are sometimes negative; there is light at the end of it. change happens, for better for worse, as long as LaunchSquad and i shall live.

i'll let you know where we register.
-k.



----------------
Now playing: Phil Collins - You Can't Hurry Love
via FoxyTunes

triangles.

you learn about triangles during that crucial stage of development when you are about five and in kindergarten and learning about shapes and colors. then you start to see them all around you as a kid, like when your mom cuts your sandwich in half or you see a yield sign. triangles then make a valiant return in geometry, where i spent the majority of my time cursing at them.

then, when you finish reading eat pray love and feel contemplative and overwhelmed while walking the reservoir at Central Park, you reflect on the Health textbook version of the mental/emotional, physical, spiritual triangle. my triangle sometimes looks more like the skewed food pyramid on the back of cereal boxes than the three separate but equal pieces that they are intended to be--Jim Crow laws fail again.

i feel like i am clearly tuned into one part while i lose reception entirely on the others. i either spend too much mental energy on myself, or more commonly the others in it, i spend too much time trying to figure out faith, or i never want to get off the elliptical. although my poison is not uncommon, it is frustrating, and even though i am increasingly aware of it, fixing it is still a brutal process. the harmonious feeling that overcomes you when these three components strike a balance is euphoric. maybe that's why it's so rare; if these things were always in balance, we'd do less work for ourselves and take for granted the importance of self priority. it gives us something to strive for.

sometimes striving is really frustrating. recently i have learned how to surrender. you can only control what's under your nose, and it's no coincidence that looking down your nose means your head is tilted up. we can only let go. sometimes i am a woman who does too much, which is funny because it leaves you not doing anything at all. it leaves you asking what if. it leaves you scripting out conversations that you will probably never have. it leave you on the backburner when you should be on your own front, firing on all cylinders. it leaves you envisioning what you would do as the protagonist instead of being it. it leaves you picturing your life instead of living it.

seize where you are with a big picture in mind. if we stop clinging to what we assume is ideal and loosen our grasp, it allows for surprisingly refreshing breathing room.

if you can't breathe, how can you eat, pray, and love anyway?

-k.


----------------
Now playing: Sara Bareilles - Gravity (Live)
via FoxyTunes

ripping up life from the roots

last night, i added to my laundry list of stereotypical unemployed-in-your-young-20's activities. i went to trivia night at a bar. with friends.

historically at trivia, we kind of suck. it's sad when you celebrate a 4th place finish, or as we call it, 'not last place!'

but this was not cliche enough.

i ended my evening talking about life over a beer with a writer possibly double my age and definitely double my insight. i met him through someone i was formerly dating, and we had conversations about how he once sat in Legends seats at Yankee stadium and his stint in the Navy and how when he was young and (really) stupid he once blew off the chance to meet Kurt Vonnegut. but we had only spoken about life in innuendos.

it's funny how two people in completely different phases of life can have completely similar feelings. i guess that's one of those innately human things. we are both in those ripping your life up from it's root transitions. we are both in the job hunt, he, looking for a much more senior copyediting position, and i looking for an entry level PR position. and it doesn't matter that i'm just starting out and he's moving up. the same anxious energy still connects. in addition to jobhunting, he is coordinating a move, which is pretty high on life's list of 'things that are initially a pain in the ass but probably turn out for the better.' i recounted memories from my bed bug moving trauma and how i was getting my first job around the same time that this horrendous infestation took place. the infestation of limbo in my life was equally not as fun.

but that's the okay part about being in a rut. getting in one means that you were once out of one and that you will be out of it again. it may not be the next job that does it. it may not be the move. it will definitely be an outlook change, usually sparked by something, even if it's just our own frustration. every pendulum has an upswing. and even though what goes up must come down, it's important to be the ones defying gravity in the first place.

i'll let you know what i learn from other token early 20s activities like brunch or something.

-k.

loss. but like in a healthy way.

i have a stubborn extra 20 lbs or so that sticks around and i'd like for it not to.

there. i said it. or typed it. and now it's real. and now i have to address it.

for a while now my weight has fluctuated above where i want it to. i'm not at any serious health risk. i don't cry every time i need to by a new pair of jeans--but i'd like to shop at the same stores as the skinny bitches that i hate. it's never prevented me from tackling any waves at family reunions and other various beach trips, but i'd like to look as pretty as the rest of my stunningly attractive family. my level of yo-yoing is nowhere near that of Kirstie Allie, but i'd rather be Jenny McCarthy. okay that would take a LOT of work, but you get the idea.

i live on 88th street and my gym is on 86th street. i am currently unemployed, which means i have a ton of time on my hands. i live with my vegan-yoga-doing sister, which means everything in my apartment is relatively good for me and i have an accountability partner. she's also that skinny bitch who i'd liek to shop at the same stores at. there are really no excuses, and i don't want to manufacture one. the only person who can jumpstart me is myself, and i have a lot of gas in the tank. my time (and john cena's time) is now. this makes perfect sense to most as i'm a 22-yr-old girl in the best city in the whole wide world (fact). but in some ways, regardless of where you are, this opportunity to better yourself is always there. i exercise my mind by writing. i exercise my spirit through connectivity and prayer. i need to exercise my body with cardio (preferably while watching bad music videos or The Biggest Loser) and my lame upperbody 'strength' (preferably when nobody else is at the gym to see how much weight i cannot lift).

i'm not a hugely religious person, but i am a spiritual person. as many around me are giving up something for lent for in the light of bettering themselves/for Jesus, I too am taking better care of myself. there is no reason I can't give an elliptical and my physical self an hour of my time when I can give others/Olympics figure skating hours of my time. it's been said that crawling your way back to balance isn't easy. it's seems like once you get there, it gets easier to stay. i should have learned this on the see-saw in third grade. i guess Mrs. Terela can only get through to me via long division and simple predicates.

-k.