Alphabet Soup: Z is for Zero Chill

This segment titled Alphabet Soup: The alphabet according to someone with very little shame and a lot of time on her hands was inspired by blogger Mandy Wallace and the Writers of Kern A to Z challenge. Enjoy!

Happy Friday, readers!

We’ve made it through yet another week and I for one am very proud of us all. It’s been a particularly eventful week for me. I had my grad school admission interview yesterday. I think it went fairly well, I didn’t say anything too obviously crazy so there’s a good chance they thought I was a well adapted member of society. After the interview I came home to find my admission test results – 692 out of 800, in case you’re interested. There was zero chill in my life yesterday.

Alphabet Soup Graphic

And why should there be? I felt like things were finally taking shape, like the horizon was just a bit closer and the Sun almost within my reach. It’s a pretty amazing feeling, that almost bursting, can’t stay still feeling of a job well done. It’s deeply satisfying to look back and find that the path finally makes sense. Hindsight is always 20/20.

This post marks the last installment of the Alphabet Soup series and I for one am very pleased. When I started it I had a completely different idea of what I wanted it to be, but I’ve really enjoyed what it became. I’m happy with the work I did and I hope you guys had an equally pleasing reading experience.

I went out last night to celebrate, so I’m tired and feeling slow. But my heart is still a Zero Chill zone. I’m happy you guys, a kind of soul filling happiness. It’s nice. I hope you guys are happy too, whatever you may be doing.

Until next time, readers. Stay golden!

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Alphabet Soup: Y is for Yeah…

This segment titled Alphabet Soup: The alphabet according to someone with very little shame and a lot of time on her hands was inspired by blogger Mandy Wallace and the Writers of Kern A to Z challenge. Enjoy!

Happy Friday, readers!

I know I’ve been a bit AWOL recently, I’m trying to get better! The road to recovery is long and arduous, but I’ll do it for you guys. Because I love you.

Y is for Yeah

This week I ended up at an impromptu hangout with the wife, a friend of ours, and a Frenchman who is here visiting. The wife and I were out book buying and figured we’d be sociable because, why not? When we get to the place, we find that the Frenchman is wasted, our friend is soberly feeling uncomfortable, AND they’ve got an almost catatonic Brit in tow. Having just written it down it sounds like the beginning of a terrible joke, which it was and wasn’t.

The atmosphere was relaxed as it can only be when you’re somewhere doing something you’ve done many times before, spending time with people who are already familiar to you. That is, until you came to the Brit, staring off into space. Saying absolutely nothing. At some point we all tried to make conversation with him, but it was too painful.

“So, how are you liking the island?”

“Yeah, fine.”

I nod, look around for inspiration.

“Is it your first time here?”

“Yeah…”

“And you’re here by yourself?”

“Yeah…”

“Wow, how was your flight?”

“Yeah…okay.”

I looked around. Eyes wide and pleading, hoping someone would rescue me. And rescue me they did, because thankfully my friends are only dicks sometimes. As the night wore on, he managed to scare off a girl my friend had gotten to talk to him. He told a lady she couldn’t bring her child into the bar. Which granted, you’re really not meant to have children in bars, but also you probably shouldn’t be telling people what to do when they’re hanging out with the bar’s owner. This was followed by him coming up to us and saying he couldn’t find his money and so we had to buy him more beer. Yeah….

By the time our friend and her Frenchman ditched us, leaving us stranded with a demanding and wildly plastered Brit, the wife and I were ready to call it quits. We were figuring out how to get out of the situation when he waved us over and introduced us to a couple he was talking to. It turns out, they were really, really cool people. Funny, smart, charming, we had a blast just chatting with them about everything and nothing. The Brit left at some point, leaving behind him a wake of “Who was that guy?” and “He was so odd”.

It was one of those chance encounters that leave you feeling energized and happy because you realize connecting with people doesn’t have to be that hard. All you need is a little luck, the willingness to try, and a wasted Brit to quicken the pace.

Alphabet Soup: X is for “X is where you sign your life away”

This segment titled Alphabet Soup: The alphabet according to someone with very little shame and a lot of time on her hands was inspired by blogger Mandy Wallace and the Writers of Kern A to Z challenge. Enjoy!

Happy Friday, readers!

Another week has come to an end, bringing with it a chance to relax and get some much needed me time. Which will hopefully come about in the form of good food, loads of uninterrupted Netflix time, and a few books. Although, I’ve a party on Sunday and will possibly go out tonight so maybe I’m just lying to myself….

X is for

You know, life is all about commitments. The promises we make and keep, the ones we break. Our willingness to follow through is, I think, a big part of what holds together the threads of society. We sign on the dotted line when we get married, when we get divorced. We constantly hit the accept button whenever we need a new update on something. We accept, acknowledge, and attach our name to things as a sign of our commitment to them and whatever they may hold.

We sign our lives away. And it’s interesting to me that we don’t notice or care. I certainly don’t. Most of the time people say sign here and I just go, “Eh, sure”. Because what else am I going to do? If you don’t sign, if you don’t commit, you can’t go forward. You can’t update your phone and you can’t get your package and you can’t open that bank account. We trust that what we’re signing won’t come back to bite us, but mostly we don’t even consider it as a possibility.

We accept as real commitments only the ones that have an impact on our reality. It’s expected that something like marriage will alter your life. But if it didn’t, if you signed a paper without any of the accompanying changes that marriage requires, we’d put signing a marriage license right there with clicking the accept button on the terms and conditions for a new app.

Except, they’re both binding, aren’t they? You’re as committed, legally, to this person as you are to software and the people behind it. 

I now declare you man and technology. You may now realize how screwed up we all are.

Until next time, readers!

Alphabet Soup: W is for Wife

This segment titled Alphabet Soup: The alphabet according to someone with very little shame and a lot of time on her hands was inspired by blogger Mandy Wallace and the Writers of Kern A to Z challenge. Enjoy!

Happy Friday, readers!

I hope you’re all doing well and getting ready for the weekend! My version of that is to stay at home studying all day because tomorrow I have my grad school admission test. Wuuuuuut?! Terrifying stuff, man. I haven’t taken a math class since high school. So, I’m hoping the cram session will do me some good. And what am I going to do afterwards, you ask? I’m taking my wife to Disneyland! Nah, I’m too broke for that. I’ll probably take her out for a beer though, or something.

W is for Wife

People always react weirdly when I say I have a wife. First they assume I’m legally married to someone and also a lesbian, then when I clarify it’s neither they dismiss the whole thing as a trend. And it definitely is a trend, girls saying they’re married to their best friends. It’s usually just another term for best friend though, which doesn’t make it less just different.

When I say she’s my wife, I mean I’d probably actually marry her. The closest I can come to describing it is being in an asexual relationship. She’s the one person I love doing nothing with. The one person I can picture spending the rest of my life with. Commitment with her, in any of its iterations doesn’t seem daunting. It seems normal, almost obvious.

I see her and I think she sees me, which is really all we’re looking for in life, isn’t it? We all want that person who is always there for us. Who gets our jokes, who listens, who is actively interested in what we have to say. That one person who is excited when good things happen for us, whose words are never empty.

So no, it’s not just a trend. I don’t just mean she’s my best friend, although she is that too. The fact that you don’t quite understand it, doesn’t mean it’s something to be dismissed. It’s real and kind of electrifying when you think about it. To have stumbled upon something so solid, so there. She makes me happy, ya know?

She’ll read this at some point. We’ll both be mildly embarrassed because neither one of us has any idea how to deal with feelings. It’s nice.

(By the way hwife, we’re going for a beer date tomorrow after my test. Yes? Yes. Kloveyoubai!)

Until next time, readers!

Alphabet Soup: V is for Vine

Hello, hello readers!

Have I been MIA? Yes! Have I forgotten about you? NEVER!!!

It’s been a weird week. Going back to college, figuring out my schedule. Although, if I’m honest I’ve just been feeling a bit meh. A bit mawp, if you will. However, I now write to you post funk! Back on the horse and all that fun stuff. Yay, metaphors!

V is for Vine

Are Vines still a thing?

The guy who told my best friend and me about Vines showed us a short clip of him rapping in his truck. We were in a train, returning to New York from Pennsylvania. At this point Vines hadn’t become popular in Puerto Rico, so it was strange to say the least. I’d like to add he later went on to refer to himself as a “Hot Burnt Chocolate Bear”. Looking back, the whole experience might be why I never got into the Vine craze….

Having said that, there was a series of Vines that I loved. For no discernible reason whatsoever. During my internship in D.C. my Puerto Rican roommate and I spent unnecessary amounts of time replaying it, to the annoyance of our other roommate. There were four of us, but we don’t talk about the fourth one. She Who Must Never Be Named. Ever. Seriously.

Here’s the Vine (series)….

I still find it funny. Don’t judge me.

 

Alphabet Soup: U is for (Completely) Unexpected

This segment titled Alphabet Soup: The alphabet according to someone with very little shame and a lot of time on her hands was inspired by blogger Mandy Wallace and the Writers of Kern A to Z challenge. Enjoy!

Happy Friday, readers!

I’m officially a College student again! But, surprisingly, that’s not the most important/weird/crazy thing that happened this week. Some things are just completely unexpected.

U is for Unexpected

Sometimes you’ll be having a beer, you’ll be in a car, you’ll be sitting next to someone. Everything is fine, mild. The conversation is perfectly ok, mild. Even the weather is just there, mild. And suddenly, out of nowhere, things change. Completely Unexpected. Because he said something that no part of you could ever have anticipated. Except some parts of you did and that’s also unexpected. Something you consider later. After the fact. When you’re alone and close to hyperventilating, but you don’t because you’ve never gotten the hang of panicking.

Instead, you sleep. And you wake up the next day with stress lodged in the pit of your stomach. Your heart throwing out a beat that’s quicker than it’s usual steady thump. You breathe deep because what the fuck else are you going to do? You suddenly find yourself racing towards something you can’t figure out how to want, but you also can’t quite figure out how to not want it. You breathe deep once. Twice.

The day moves on and you move with it. It’s a dance you know the steps to. Finally something that feels solid after a day of rolling waves and a tiny ship about to capsize. That’s you. Your body feeling too small to withstand the immensity of it all. Especially when a part of you knows a third of that immensity is self made. Like adding hot sauce to something that was already spicy to begin with. Your tongue too heavy to speak, your throat tight as it burns, your lungs full of fire that leaves no room for air.

Sometimes things are completely unexpected. They’re welcome. They’re terrifying. They’re worrisome. They’re exciting. As unexpected as the choices we make in response.

Have a good one, readers. Until next time!

Alphabet Soup: R is for resolutions

This segment titled Alphabet Soup: The alphabet according to someone with very little shame and a lot of time on her hands was inspired by blogger Mandy Wallace and the Writers of Kern A to Z challenge. Enjoy!

Happy New Year!!!! It’s 2016 what whaaaaaaat

I hate spending Holidays at home, but spend it at home is what I did. People watching tv and munching on random things. Like every other fucking day of the year. Man, what the hell?! Who does that?! Tons of people, I bet. It’s a thing. Gathering, eating, and watching tv while rehashing the same old shit. Bleurgh.

R is for Resolutions

Let’s keep talking about tradition. Probably the biggest and most widely spread New Year tradition is coming up with resolutions for the coming year. Usually we all resolve to do things like lose weight, be better people, eat healthy, be more creative, do more of whatever it is we’re not doing enough. And, each year, without fail, we forget all about our well meant resolutions. Because they’re born out of that end of the year guilt, that looking back and feeling uncomfortable with how little we’ve done. Then the vastness of a new year comes along and we fool ourselves into thinking we have all the time in the world to accomplish whatever it is we’ve written down in our list of ours.

Does the mere act of writing down and coming up with these things satisfy that part of our brain that feels like we should be doing more? We get this burst of productivity that carries us through coming up with ideas, the planning, the initial set up for our new lifestyle. And then. And then. Nothing. Life happens and we put it all off. We push it back and rearrange it and forget that we had plans to change.

Are we doomed to repeat our mistakes every year? Cursed with chronic forgetfulness. Maybe. We should probably start by not romanticizing beginnings. It makes us feel fresh and new to start something when time seems to be starting, as well. Except, that’s a lie, isn’t it? Time never stops. We’re convinced it’s renewing itself, when really it’s us projecting our need for newness onto everything else.

So, instead of writing resolutions, let us make concrete plans. Let us forget about the fact that it’s the start of a new year and instead focus on our desire to be different, to improve. Plans, not resolutions. Let’s try it. What’s the worst that can happen?

Have an excellent year, readers!