Cleaning Out My Camera

Pictures are a big part of my family.  My dad loves photography and at any family event, big or small, he is there with his camera.  Eventually, as I started loving photography too, he would hand me the camera and unwittingly I became the unofficial family photographer; a terrible thing for an attention-loving youngest child as I was no longer in any of the photos.  My sisters would probably say it evens out since my whole childhood was documented extensively. 

Blurbles! 7-27

BLURBLES are some of my random thoughts.  Not thought out enough to really write about, but nonetheless worthy of a mention. 

1. I used to really love JLO…Jenny from the Block, Bennifer.  I was all over that.  Then she disappeared for a while which was fine, had her little babies, and then tried to put out an album that no one cared about.  Then BAM! American Idol comes along and everyone loves her again.  This annoys me.  Probably because American Idol really annoys me and I think it’s pathetic that it made her relevant again.  But regardless of my feelings about the show it is undeniable that it completely brought her back into the spotlight.  Now all of a sudden her album, which no one would invest in before, is released and becomes a hit. This did not make me love her again.  I cannot listen to that piece of shit song and I prefer Jennifer Lopez’s Ass on the movie screen not in music videos. But her divorcing Mark Anthony?  That did it.  I love her again.  JLo is back y’all!  That guy is such a creepy little skeezball, always has been.  I don’t know what she saw in him in the first place, but who am I to talk?  I’ve had my fair share of skeezballs.  It’s just great to see her confident and happy.  Sometimes I can’t wait to be older, to be in my 30’s and have my shit together and have that confidence.  Look at her confidence, look how beautiful it makes her.  I want that.  Except she is actually 42 and I don’t want that.

Jealousy Schmealousy

Jealousy.  Boo.  We all hate it, yeah?  No one likes to feel jealous and no one likes to have a jealous significant other.  Regrettably, I have been given the jealousy gene.  I believe that too.  I believe it is just in some people, like a mean little twin that never developed and is now only a bump in your back with teeth and everything.  Of course, jealousy is a byproduct of insecurity, but I think it can also be caused by a crazy vivid imagination, not unlike my own.  I have a real talent for imagining the worst possible scenarios.  I should probably write horror movies or really sad, depressing indie films. I have always had this dark imagination gnawing at me, and not just with boys, with everything.  That is how I managed to stay out of trouble as a kid and teen.  I would think of the worst possible consequences and was sure that they would happen to me if I tested it. 

Sacrifice

"I have a good brain, but I’ve never really used it when it came to making decisions about love, which has been a blessing and a curse." -Sienna Miller

I love this Sienna Miller quote.  I don’t know if I love Sienna Miller.  I think I might be starting to.  Up until recently I have had a kind of love/hate relationship with her, but her fashion sense is winning me over.  I don’t know much about her, but I feel a kinship.  And I I am the f**cking poster girl for this quote. 

I have had pretty ridiculous breakup timing the past couple years.  Two pretty shitty breakups happening right before Valentine's Day which is followed two weeks later by my birthday.  Not that fun.  Especially considering that I am a planner, and I am too nice to boys I like, and I like crafts.  So, of course, both boys had wonderful handmade, heartfelt gifts that I obviously spent too much time on because they both dumped me before V-Day.  Eff that. 

I wrote this last year and I guess it's a little melodramatic as I am looking back, but it was very real to me then.  Some things I wrote still ring true to me, mostly the stuff about decisions and choices, and maybe for you as well.  Enjoy (: 

Welcome to Singlehood

I guess I had no idea what I was getting into.  Being a girl in my early twenties in a serious, committed relationship for the past three-plus years, I thought my future path was pretty clear.  I would graduate from college and go on a Study Abroad trip to South Africa, then upon my return home my boyfriend would propose and I would put on a pretty little smile as I showed off my ring, which would be a brilliant, round diamond set in a thick, platinum band.  Giant.  Sparkly.  Tiffany.  Then I would spend the next year of my life on the edge of a nervous breakdown, tasting cakes, dieting like a madwoman, attending dress fittings, making nail appointments, tanning, registries, invitations, and raging bitch fits.  Then on to the main event with all the third cousins and flowers and friends of friends and flashing cameras and saying “I do” in my dreamy Monique Lhuillier gown that I maxed out three credit cards to buy.  I didn’t really think too far ahead into the future but I am guessing my next step after all that probably would have been get knocked up and pop out some babies with unfortunate red hair that I would have to love anyway. 

We’ve all seen it done a million times before, the marriage thing, it’s what people do.  They fall in love and get married.  It’s what I thought I would do.  I thought that pretty much until I arrived home from Africa and attended a wedding and almost had a panic attack.