21 Things I Still Need to Remind Myself of... Even Past Thirty

Life is a learning process. Anyone who doesn't think this, who believes there's some magical age or point you reach where you know everything and have absorbed and retained all the knowledge you're capable of, is certifiable.
However, as you get older, you do tend to think there are certain aspects of life you should know about, that are ingrained in your being, and there are even ones you do know but seem to need reminders of on an annoyingly frequent basis.
These are some of mine...

1. You can just toast/eat half a bagel.

2. Few things will teach you as much about human nature than observing how others treat people in the service industry... and Shakespeare. That man knew people.

3. They stopped making your favorite journal five years ago. Accept it and stop hoarding other notebooks to fill that hole. WRITE. DOODLE. CREATE.

4. You are never going to regret having a pen or pencil with you -- unless it stains your clothes. So make sure you buy sturdy pens and handbags you love.

5. Making food for the week, writing, cleaning, yoga, and goal planning do not make a Lazy Sunday.

6. Lazy is not being present in your own life, and that of your loved ones.

7. Writers write. They also dance, cook, clean, sing, doodle, binge watch shows, play games, and sleep -- to avoid writing. And they live.

8. Unless it's crafted by scumbags or spreading hate/violence, never be ashamed of the music you love. If others judge you harshly on this, blast some goddamn Taylor Swift in their face and Shake It Off.

9. One day, your primary source of income will come from doing something you love. Until then, you do not have to hate your job. If you hate it and it's killing your soul -- quit. The universe will not let you become homeless.
Also, if your coworkers aren't foodies, leave. Leave now.

10. People who are angry often want you to be angry, too. Misery loves company. Avoid temptation, slap on a smile, and laugh when they get angrier that you haven't absorbed their vitriol.

11. Your favorite shows and movies will change over time. So when you get a new fav, immerse yourself in it. Memorize it. Cherish it. And don't be sad when it's time to move on.
This goes for friends, too.

12. Your sexuality and relationship history/goals are an important aspect of yourself. They are not your whole self. If you are being made to think they are, blast some Edith Piaf at those fuckers, drape yourself in a fabulous dressing gown, and float away.

13. Say "fuck." Go ahead. Do it. Did anyone die? Did you get slapped? If the answer to both questions is no, say "fuck" as much as you fucking want.

14. There is nothing better for your body and soul (or more rare), than a great fitting, comfortable pair of cute shoes. Don't be afraid to buy two pairs when you stumble on this miracle.

15. Read more. No matter what you read, or in what format, keep reading. It is never a waste of time. If you give something a chance and don't like it, grab something else. Just read.

16. If a trip to The Huntington won't cure it, a trip to Disneyland will (unless you're trying to cure the measles -- vaccinate, damnit).
A message brought to those of you considering a membership or pass to your favorite places. Just do it. Get one. And don't wait for the 'best time' to go. Just go. Go when you need to, and leave when you're done, and return as much as you can.

17. Keep learning. Cooking, art, music, history, religions, languages, people. Learning any of these doesn't have to cost anything, so find the time.

18. Dishes, laundry, and basic household cleaning are a part of life. Unless you're a billionaire. Employ whatever methods necessary to do these things -- and reward yourself for doing them for as long as you need to.

19. Yoga. Just fucking do it. Don't worry about fat-burning hot yoga, or if you'll ever be able to do inversions, or that you have to modify poses due to injuries. Just let go and practice the damn yoga.

Life Goal: to be Nina Dobrev

20. You made it this long not being someone entirely dependent on caffeine, or alcohol, or cigarettes, or drugs. Keep up that streak.

21. Step away from the screen. Computers, TV, phone, tablet -- whatever. Get up. Don't look at that temptress for at least 15 minutes. Walk around. Stretch. Snack. Make tea. Dance. Sing. Keep your eyes and mind on the tactile, the full body, the present. Breathe deep. Then return to the screen if you must, but always take breaks. Take breaks to live, work, play, cook, eat, drink, be merry, and dance.

Vacating

August is almost over, for which I am grateful. Yet today is shaping up to be the most Monday-like Monday I've had in quite a while. I'm on edge. My skin is almost tingling. Every time the phone rings I just want to pick it up and yell, "WHAT!?"
I need to write, but Writer Brain is buried under Editor Brain. I can't write so it makes me more stressed. I'm stressed, so I can't write. Cyclical bullshit of the psyche that makes me want to curl up in a ball with a mug of tea and a stack of books and ignore everything for a solid week.

I revert back to this post from last year:

"Adults need summer vacation.
When you're a kid, no matter how long or short your summer vacation is, it provides you with freedom and opportunities to be expressive, creative, social (or not), occasionally spontaneous and more carefree than you ever realize at the time. Once you hit high school (or if you're lucky, college -- in which case you have no idea how lucky you were/are), you get summer jobs and much of that freedom dissipates. It's still there in smaller doses, though. You're also still more free to travel -- even if it's with your family -- and goof off, because your responsibilities and ties are relatively small.
Then, you 'grow up,' get some form of job, and vacation is typically reduced to a couple weeks at most which you have to plan out in scary detail, usually not take all at once, hope that all of your plans work out, and in all that chaos actually find time to relax.
That is wholly inadequate. Pardon my language, but it's just bullshit. 'Maturing' into an adult does not mean you need less time to decompress, to be free in thought and action, to explore the world around you, to express your creativity or lack thereof, to be a social butterfly or a hermit... if anything you need more. I believe the problems with stress so many people experience in adulthood, especially in this country, stem from the de-institutionalized human need for time to deal with ourselves and our problems. Everything must be done faster, better, more efficiently, even coping with our problems and personal inadequacies. Work Harder has replaced Work Smarter and in that we have lost the time, the ability and the PERMISSION to take time when we need it. We steal cigarette breaks and long lunches where we can. We use a vacation day to deal with doctor appointments, bills, family issues and the like. We try not to use sick days (if we are lucky enough to have them) unless we're at deaths door. Why? Because jackasses creating corporate models have instilled in us that this is how we become better workers. It's not. It's also very much not how we become better people.
Even if you have a non-traditional job that is more flexible than most, you still need time off and not scattered for a week here or there. We all need actual breaks -- at least 2 weeks of solid time off, SEVERAL TIMES A YEAR -- to truly be productive, rational, sane individuals."

I don't claim to have much sanity to begin with, but what little I possess is currently on its own vacation with my mental equilibrium, patience, and ability to process information and daily life occurrences without wanting to scream.

Quite right, too…

Some evenings you have to let go of the internal push to write or edit or create. Sometimes you just need to emote. Sometimes that emoting equates to crying yourself into a pool of tears on your sofa. It’s cleansing and oddly fulfilling to release whatever tensions block you from progress.
We each have our own way of inviting these waves of emotion, and I’m not going to out anyone I know who has divulged theirs. However I am going to say that for me, the quickest route to an emotional purging is usually an emotionally affecting piece of TV, or a film. Music can work wonders as well, but it takes a while (usually) to build up to the release. Certain video works, when the conditions are right, can take all of two minutes… sometimes less.
Last night was one of those nights. From the depths of whatever internal oceans inside me, I felt a sudden need for release. Still, I’m a busy gal with things to accomplish, so the slow burn approach was not going to cut it. I went right for the tear-duct jugular: Doctor Who.
Over the past couple years it has become increasingly clear that should I ever be fortunate enough to find someone who wants to spend the rest of his life with me (and I desire the same), he’ll have to be someone I feel comfortable being this emotional blob around. I don’t intend to be, or even to intentionally expose this aspect of myself unless necessary, but I need to know he can handle it when it arises. And really, if we’re going to be together he’ll need to be a New Whovian which means sooner or later he’ll have to see this side of me unless I ban him from watching certain episodes in my presence.
It may not be everyone’s kind of litmus test for security, but anyone (friend or significant other or whatevs) who can handle the puddle of emotion I become while watching, say, “Doomsday,” rates pretty high on my scale of Personal Comfort With Another Human.
And anyone who breaks down with equaled emotion may just be my emotional soul mate.

The residual effects of this are making me a bit shaky today. I’ve gone to some pretty deep and vulnerable places this week when on my own, only to require the Mask of OK to be firmly replaced very quickly and sustained around others. Still, in order to access my productive and creative side I need a little exploration of self, which tends to get pretty messy.

It’s either that or find me some opium and trip out until I compose a sequel to Kubla Kahn.

On Gallifrey did the Lonely God
A stately citadel inhabit...

Confession Time

Not like ‘this is a guilty pleasure I’m admitting to’ confession. We’re talking full on ‘I was born a lapsed Catholic’ confession. Anyone who’s been through the Catholic ringer knows that even when you don’t know what (if any) form of religion or higher power you believe in anymore, there’s ritualistic aspects of the Catholic Church that never leave you. For many of us, Lent is one of those.
Every year for the past, erm, decade-ish I have succumbed to that residual guilt which accompanies the period known as Lent and have sacrificed my deep love of fried foods for forty days. Some years it goes well. Others it does not. Still, I keep the tradition going because regardless of any religious reasons, or even residual guilt that only exists as a childhood remnant of having said guilt ingrained in me like an emotional tattoo, giving up fatty, deep fried food for six weeks isn’t exactly bad for my body. Some swanky health nuts cut it out all together, and I applaud them. I am no such paragon of healthy eats and will likely never be, so for this brief period, though around week three I typically turn into a raging bitch due to French fry withdrawal, I will endeavor to be a little more virtuous in terms of what I put into my body, even if I only do it out of misplaced residual guilt. Any reason to get healthy without harming yourself is a good idea in my book…

It's not 'just a headache,' imbecile

All right, so while I can get ranty and ravey on here occasionally, I tend to steer away from ‘deep topics’ such as politics, religion, health care, the financial stability (or lack thereof) of the world, education, etc. I’ve got my opinions on these, but it so rarely affects my writing as it relates to the topics I spew about on here that I steer clear of hotbed topics.
Well, not today.
Most people not living under the proverbial boulder of social blindness are probably aware that the biggest story to come out of the Grammys was not about the show, but about a reporter who suffered a medical emergency during a live broadcast about the show. It’s now been confirmed by her physicians and the media that she did not have a stroke but had an episodic lapse in speech and feeling due to a migraine. Is it good that this woman did not suffer a stroke? Absolutely. Is this going to raise public awareness about a serious physical and neurological disorder that affects millions of people and can mimic, and eventually cause, strokes? Probably… for about an hour. Does that frustrate me? Hells. Yes.
Now, I’m not saying we should drop everything and focus on migraine research because there are worse medical conditions that do not have cures or even decent treatments. However, as someone who has lived with the migraine stigma of “Oh, you have a headache” for over ten years, and seen friends and family deal with the same BS, when national media covers migraines in a high-profile manner I get instantly hopeful and angry, because to date no amount of coverage has done enough to change the perception that migraines are anything more than a really intense headache… oh, and sometimes people have to lay in a cool, dark, quiet room like they have a hangover until the headache goes away.
I could detail for you all the symptoms I get with various migraines (and yes, they can differ), or list all the medications I’ve taken since I was a teenager that either never worked or stopped working after a short period of time, or launch into a description of what it actually feels like (for me, because every sufferer is different) to have a migraine. However, none of this ever seems to get through to the core of the issue: migraine sufferers have a serious, debilitating medical condition which, because of a lack of knowledge and (typically) visible effects, most people write off as a minor inconvenience in our lives. Also, because migraines can be caused and triggered by a myriad of factors (and each sufferer reacts with different symptoms), no one treatment or solution is feasibly possible so research is far more complex than it is for disorders where the contributing factors are more easily pinpointed.
So any time a story like this is touted in the media, I give a little fist pump for my fellow migraneurs, and then get a little incensed on behalf of us all because I know the chances of it creating new opportunities to explore treatments are slim to none. One day perhaps an event large enough to garner heightened exposure will occur (and I sincerely hope it’s not anything catastrophic), but until then I want to express my solidarity for my fellow sufferers and state for the record that this is one issue where I will always give a voice, both on my own behalf and that of anyone who’s ever had to cope with a migraine while being patronizingly gazed at by those who don’t comprehend what it is we experience.

A little sampling of great creative minds that suffered from migraines...