Eager to learn

Watching people reading glossy magazines got me thinking.

I’m not the kind of girl who buys those magazines, unless it’s for a short flight and I know there aren’t any movies available, but when I do I read them like my life depends on it. Like everything that is in them is pure gold and I need to eat the words off the page and absorb them into my skin and keep them there. I now have a tab book marked on my computer for nerve, an online magazine that is not really comparable to any offline magazine. It’s a cynical type magazine about everything you could think of, from romances to fashion and some gossip and other things. It’s really interesting, but just like the glossy magazines it’s about relatable things, things that you can track back to your own life and feel connected. I feel like we only read things that we can relate to and that makes complete sense. I mean why would I want to read something when there is non of me in it. It may sound selfish but I guess that’s the way we are being brought up at the moment. What is best for me, how can I get farther in life, me me me….

I sometimes wish I was as interested in those magazines I used to get as a kid with all the different plants and animals in it. They were magazines I would eat up like the ones today, but only I would learn something from them. I wish I could be one of those people that can sit down with a “National Geographic” and read it cover to cover. And actually read it, not flip through it looking at the pictures and see if there was anything in it that I found fun or terrifying, something that spoke to me on some level.

I feel ashamed when I go into a magazine store and feel myself eyeing the people magazines and really wanting to buy one. So I force myself to go to the tech section and check out what’s coming out, because that’s the only other thing in the magazine store that really interests me. I don’t wanna be one of those chicks. Who cares when which kardashian is popping out another baby??? Who cares who else is getting a divorce, liposuction, boob job or going to rehab. I do. Dammit. I love reading about all the crazy things people with fame and money do. And I always think to myself, if I was that rich and famous I would be the most awesome rich and famous person an everyone would love me because I was so awesome and giving and kind. Aaah. Day dreams ahoy!

So anyway, what I really wanted to say was I wish I was still as eager to learn about good, non-selfish things as I was when I was younger. But I remember getting bored super quick with those learning mags.

No balls

In a world where everything is going from offline to online, where we don’t have personal conversations anymore but rather tweet everything that is on our mind we feel like we’re closer to each other than ever. I don’t think that this is the case. I feel like if anything this movement from offline personal fce to face conversations to online anonymous conversations has given us the feeling that we are allowed to say anything, anywhere and at any time.
Maybe i’m a bit of a hypocrite, since i too am hiding behind an alias spewing words (sometimes hateful) onto a blank webpage. (Oh my god, i just noticed that webpage has been recognized as an actual word by my spell checker, when did that happen? How old am i?!?) But still, i think that there was an advantage of face to face conversations, not that i’m not enjoying these online rants, i just think that having realtime (and that does not include skype or whatsapp) conversations are much more important.

I can give a personal example: i often whatsapp my boyfriend my problems and i always feel like, yes i may be getting all the words out correctly and everything seems to be making sense, but a lot of the actual message is lost in hyper space as he doesn’t know in what tone i’m saying them, i can’t touch his arm to comfort him and look him in the eye and tell him i don’t mean it in a bad way. All those text messages come across quite monotonously and bluntly as all the information is cast out in one big dump. It’s not really a real conversation as much as tiny monologues where you keep trying to up the other person.

The other thing that annoys me is that people love leaving these cryptic messages like “i wanna know how you feel about me..” Who?!? What?!? Why?!? This annoys the crap out of me. I may not be one for confrontation but seriously grow some balls and ask the person in question. It’s attention seeking little bitch behavior that should be punished by in this case a rude one liner.

The come up of social networks = loss of balls.

Too old.

I hate that I have come to that age where I am suddenly too old to do certain things. I’m not saying that I’m old or complaining about my age or anything, but I’m just starting to notice that there are things that a 28 year old can’t do anymore that a let’s say 25 year old can still get away with. For instance, going out, I remember when I was 25 and going out was just one of those things that I could do easily. I would go out till 5-6 in the morning. And get up the next day without even batting an eyelash. I would be tired of course, have a spinning head, yes. But I could do it. Now, I like to go out on fridays, so that I have a two day recovery period. OR I just really don’t feel like it anymore. Maybe it’s a phase, because of just getting into a relationship and being in that, I’d rather just chill with my boy on the couch and watch movies and make out and have lots of sex. But I don’t know. It feels like this is the end of really going out.

Other things I feel like I can’t do anymore now, be irresponsible and act stupid. In public. Ah, I miss those care free days when I could throw a tantrum in the middle of the super market because mommy would buy the one thing in the whole super market that I wanted. I think that throwing a tantrum is probably the most relieving thing to do. So now I do it in private, for fun. I will stomp my feet and yell and cry and call for mommy. Try it. It really is fun. And it feels great! Even if there is nothing wrong but you just feel like you need to be emotional about whatever. No one can see you, no one will know. If you trust someone enough let them be present for your tantrum and maybe even join in. I do it with my sister, boyfriend and best friend. They join in sometimes and then we laugh till we can’t breathe anymore. Such a release. I think it’s kinda like punching a wall for a boy.

The thing I hate most about my age is the inhibitions that comes with growing up. When I see a kid on the streets and he/she is just singing and dancing and running around their parents like “you can’t catch me la la la la” I can’t help but think, when does that end??? When was it deemed socially UNacceptable to sing or dance in public?? I always walk around with my music on and in my ears, and I am ALWAYS listening to something catchy or dancy and I ALWAYS catch myself bopping along with my head or my feet and sometimes when I’m waiting for a bus or tram with my knees and therefore my whole body bopping. Those are the days where I wish everyone would just dance freely, so I could enjoy my little silent disco. Or to just run after a friend and play tag or hide and seek, talk about a great work out! I remember trying to find the best place to hide, trying not to breathe, feeling the adrenaline coursing through my body at every little sound, ready to jump out of the closet and run my ass off. Loved it. Oh well, I guess I’ll just have to wait to have my own little munchkins to run around with again, let my inner child do the things she wants to do.

Song on the radio:

Welcome to Dorkville

Hello my name is dork and I come from dorkville.

What the fuck is she talking about? You ask…? Well I am a Huuuuuuuge DORK! I know, it’s unbelievable. You can’t even imagine it. But it is true. Sadly.

I have tripped so many times, my knees don’t even bruise anymore. It’s like they’ve said to themselves, why even bother if she’s not gonna learn? And it’s not like I don’t want to learn and don’t want to trip over my own feet. Yes, my own feet, I can’t even blame the bump in the floor or the upturned carpet or other people’s shoes. No it is completely and utterly and stupidly my own fault because for some strange reason, I can’t walk yet. Almost 27 years ago I learned how to walk and I still have so much to learn. I blame my genes but then again, can you really blame genes for not being able to walk??? I hope so, because that’s what I’m doing.

And let’s not even talk about talking to the opposite sex. It doesn’t even have to be a fine specimen. Nope, I will be awkward as fuck to everything with a penis. I have blown bubbles of snot with my nose and sometimes also with my mouth. I have fallen on top of, beside, behind, tripped and on special occasions even smacked men. I am not aggressive and for most of these occurrences I wasn’t even drunk. It’s like my body has a natural aversion to boys.
Praise the lord I have found one as dorky as me. Although he doesn’t trip as much.

Then there’s the pinnacle of awkwardness which come in the form of public speeches or just talking to more than one person in general. I quiet down completely now-a-days because I never know what is going to come out of my mouth. And especially I never know how loud I’m going to be, mostly I am extremely loud.
I remember my most awkward and “special” moment like it was yesterday, I don’t remember exactly what we were doing this for, I think it was my last year of high school assembly or something. But anyways, I was asked to perform on stage with a bunch of guys, rap. Yes people, this little white girl was asked to rap, on stage, in front of people. Not only was I asked to rap but I was asked to FREESTYLE RAP. WTF? Why I agreed is still mystery to me. Not only did I hate being on stage, but I also had no clue how to rap let alone freestyle. I should have written something down before. Eh, hindsight. So there I was on stage, and my “buddy” had just finished rapping and was looking at me like “YO, your turn!” I froze. Petrified. And the beat boxer kept going. I kept repeating the words “I don’t know what to say, I don’t know what to say” to the beat. I looked around the room and one guy in the “audience” actually had his hand over his forehead, it was so bad that people didn’t even want to laugh. So bad that they felt sorry for me. Cringe. And then, out of some strange old school part of my strange strange brain came: “wait, breath and stop” Looking back, I should have probably followed these words and not rapped them. Yeah people, that’s what I did. I rapped that. no. no. no. no. no. I have no clue how long I was up there or any recollection on how or when it ended, but I’m still alive!! YAY! And it ended. I know only one thing, I am never ever ever doing that ever again. This girl is just not meant for the rapping world. AH! So sad. Have to give up that dream. Oh well. Nothing lost.

Well there it is, my most embarrassing moment in writing, on the net, for everyone to see. It’s cool though, I know I’m awkward and that’s all that counts. wooooo…..