For a very long while I’ve hated my own indecision and for an even longer while I kept wondering where it originated in this stupidly complex apparatus called brain of mine. Ever since I’ve known myself, I always knew what I wanted and how to get it and hated people who didn’t, like all the people from school that were pressured into deciding what uni they want to go to way before they even had a clue about what they’d like to do in life. They should have nicknamed me boolean or something in school, there was nothing outside of black and white, true and false, yes or no.
For ages I spent my time as ‘that person with a strong will and determination’ who the teachers would point as an example to anyone that didn’t know what to ask from life. We were taught mortgages are bad, borrowing money is bad, make your own way in life, problem is how you actually get there without losing faith in yourself, humanity and anyone else on the way. Or your mind, for starters. Everyone hated me and I pretty much knew that. Everyone thinks I still know what I want now and that I’m doing great and look at all these people who know me and support me, what kind of mentally deranged person starts working in advertising at 16?
Then the cliché of all clichés happened, couple of years after I got what I wanted (it had all been carefully planned since I was 13) I was having my blankest year and the only thing I thought wouldn’t affect me started to fall to pieces. The structure had been completely dismantled and all in all, every bad thing happening in your life makes you more humble overall. It made me humble to the point where I wanted nothing and suddenly all those Hollywood scenarios with people pointing guns at their heads in despair or the dramatic ‘Nothing makes sense anymore’ phrases actually made a great deal of sense.
But in the shallow world of ‘evil and corporate' and work colleagues doing pregnancy tests in the office loo, everything passed after a couple of minutes and everyone tried to distract you from whatever it was you were thinking; unless you had a humane manager, at most you got a few days off to put your mind into working order again so you can come back to doing whatever it was you were doing, sipping your bland coffee, spilling it over your Dell keyboard and fidgeting in your seat because your back bloody hurts. Whatever happened in your life stays in the back of your head and any surfacing of it is called insecurity, with your friends thinking compassion time has ended a long while ago, maybe you should get counselling this time around. How are you? Fine, and you?
Anyway, whatever it was, today, out of all the days is the one day I actually feel like I haven’t really appreciated what’s been done for me but looking back, I’m only just learning and assimilating the effort others have put into making me feel better. Just about now I’ve come to terms with the course of life.
And just about now, I can say I’m the happiest person ever. Also, should start making up for the past two years, which won’t be easy but no one ever said it would be.
“And there’s one more problem with renting [a tuxedo]: You get someone else’s clothes, and a man can’t feel comfortable in someone else’s clothes, especially when that someone else is probably a seventeen-year-old who last wore the getup on prom night. Do you have any idea what goes on in the pants of a seventeen-year-old on prom night? Right. So buying it is.”—Esquire
In the quest for more information about women and what makes their world go round, a friend of mine was staring blankly at some magazine that talked about Sex and the City and interior design work that went into it. He was a bit confused that this is what ‘content for women’ means and that magazines dedicate a twofold to Carrie’s bed or dressing and Miranda’s living room décor. Apart from having to understand that IKEA Pax furniture is our kind of porn, some of us are still sane and never actually gather ludicrous amounts of shoes, clothes or anything else in a lifetime. It’s just a thing of spending so much money on shoes, you’ll feel guilty for mistreating them and not getting decent storage.
Then quoting a lady named Gloria whatsherface, we have yet to hear a man ask for advice on how to combine marriage and a career!
I somehow feel bad that I must be at a terribly boring turning point in my life where (in a best case scenario) at the end of the day after staring into my monitor all day I feel tired and have absolutely no sense of humour or anything interesting to say, with no ability to make small talk whatsoever or in a worst-case scenario I turn over to the other side and cry before I go to bed after watching a film that covers a touchy subject in my life and since I’ve cried a bit too much it either means films are very unimaginative or my life has been … oh wait.
It’s really, really nice and it makes me feel warm on the inside when someone else tries a whole range of things to make me feel better, from just a hug to cuddling me and agreeing wholeheartedly that the world is full of evil, people are sometimes hopeless and that the times are really bad, and oh my god, no one ever does anything about the poor snails and slugs that get squished daily. Do snails have an ambulance service?
Life must be terribly unfair being with someone who thinks about work way too much when there are so many shinier, happier (fitter, song-title-cliché-extraordinaire) people that are obviously not so preoccupied with their work and research and God knows, no one else might find the fact that women in the North are more enthusiastic about dying their hair than the ones in the South exciting!
Life is also terribly unfair for anyone willing to listen to me and all that, especially when I can’t get myself to stop (when my sensible wanders off) talking about work. They’re, at worst, stuck with a crazy woman that suffers from pathologically excessive talking (or logorrhea if you can pronounce it) that will say yes to anything that sounds interesting enough but can’t think of anything she’d like to do on her own because almost nothing in life is interesting when done alone. Sometimes I can’t bring myself to say ‘I love you’ or make a funny enough joke and it makes me sad thinking I must have drained all the resources I had to say that in loads of ways.
Now that I think about how stupid I’ve been a while ago, I have this feeling that I’ve only just walked past a huge canyon but now I’m somewhere safe and that being in love is really a nice feeling, even nicer even if it’s only in your head when you think about someone and they make you smile (or maybe the thought?).
Note to self: this post was generated after having drank some coffee way too late, and a sudden realisation that I waste too much energy on things that don’t matter and don’t pay nearly enough attention to the people that matter. No more angry about small things, everything just zen. Hopefully. Tumblr is great, no one actually knows who I am, nor can they comment on my entries.
I’ve no idea why life really, really loves to surprise me every now and then.
For a while I had been stuck in a rut doing a lot of research on women and their habits although frankly work has proven me that men are a lot more fascinating when it comes to exploring their lifestyle, just because it seems less complicated and full of intrigue and mystery as with women.
About two years ago after work I was talking to my mum about this client I had been working on while she was in Unilever (not on a men’s brand though) and said that at some given seminar the women working on Lynx discovered the ‘Three 3s’ in a men’s going out or party ritual. They stood for shit, shave and shower. Whereas for women, well, it wouldn’t even get anywhere close to that. Us girls are funny creatures. Soft skin, red lips, smoky eyes.
It’s only once I never liked what a make-up artist did to a girl and that’s in the 17 MySpace videos where the model looks like a college girl who is also a part time porn star. Speaking of part time porn stars, that’s what women call men who wax every bit of hair off their bodies. Yes, that’s the kind of stuff that makes me go ‘ick’ when doing research, whether for work or uni but saying ‘It’s only human nature’ is usually my excuse. My human nature isn’t what everyone else does so if anything, this job feels like an ego killer.
Anyway returning to chaos Wednesday. I was talking to a friend of mine today and she gave me a great alternative to working - making a baby.
I think in the bigger scheme of things I’ll stick with the corporate, even if only for just a while.
“I entered this business before I had focus and purpose in my life. I was very unhappy, very unhealthy, and when I sat down for an interview, I didn’t know why. I felt like I didn’t have anything to share. It was a very empty time.”—Angelina Jolie for Esquire
I will go on holiday somewhere I can brainwash myself and break my bones or just be really, really tired and hot on the inside at the end of the day, enjoying a film in some place that’s as gorgeous as it looks in brochures and pictures off wikipedia.
I will get a bike and ride it and actually eat properly and take all my vitamins, sleep at least 7 hours every night and stop reading stupid branding and advertising books outside uni, no horror films, no cutting people, no brains splattered across the walls, stop checking my email so often. Although obviously the hotel MUST have internet.
I’ll buy all the clothes I’ve promised myself to buy, read all those stupid books I keep seeing in WHSmith but avoid because they’re too easy, eventually figure out what I want from life and what my goals are apart from being some person that has worked two years in advertising only to start working for Tesco or some other place.
Figure where all the ‘it doesn’t matter as long as it’s work’ principles I used to have are while hoping my CV doesn’t look horribly strange when I’m done with uni - debating society, freelance planning for Romanian companies while making sandwiches at Subway, gaping at people fatter than whales or possibly working with some over-enthusiastic ‘I am awesome’ kind of person.
I will stop being cold and scared of rain, mud and getting stung by insects although somewhere in the back of my head there’s a trifle with hot, sugary custard dripping all over it like wax off a candle stick.
I will watch all those episodes of Sex and the City to convince myself that the quotes sound funnier when written on paper and speaking of paper, I’ll call or email back all these bloody companies that keep spamming my real life inbox with murdered trees, in thin form. I don’t need a sheet of paper telling me to go see my doctor, I’d really like a call, thanks. I’m sure the trees will love it too.
I will actually finish uni and put money aside for what I want to do later in life, move in and be with someone whom I can have fun with and do nice things for them, like bake them cookies and buy those extra beer bottles that they can find in the fridge when he gets home. And not get angry over that toilet seat, never ever. Live somewhere not too far away from friends and family if possible, or have them over for a meal and a film. Wake up, look around, see a familiar face and realise it’s just us there and fall asleep again.
“Waste is so built into our culture that people think nothing of taking more than they can possibly eat, and could not care less if it is thrown out. It reminded me of otherwise socially aware acquaintances who refuse to eat leftovers, and thus quite happily toss astonishing amounts of good food into the trash.”—Saffo: journal
“Fifty-eight percent of British children eat their evening meal in front of the television (a British child spends more than five hours per day watching a screen); 36 percent never eat any meals together with other family members; and 34 percent of households do not even own dining tables.”—Childhood’s End
Loving a Gemini is easy and fun, if you don’t try to get too close. There’s an inner core that belongs only to him, which he’ll never share with another human being, even you. Keep things cool and light, and don’t be overly passionate or dramatic. Don’t bore him, always excite him and your Gemini romance can be very special. Don’t rebel against his changeability. Change with him. Be as alert and interested in life as he is. Otherwise, the love affair could become just one of those things. He seeks a mental companion above all else. One who can match his wits; even top him now and then, because he’s not an egotist. He’s a realist, and he thrives on mental challenge. The last thing he wants is a doormat or a dull mouse. There’s seldom any deep, lasting attachment to old memories, places, people and things. During a long period of loneliness, he can shed some sentimental tears, but it’s the loneliness that does it, rather than nostalgia for yesterday. He’s gregarious, and he hates-even fears-being alone for extended periods. When he’s free from a feeling of mental isolation, and has nothing to prove to anyone, he loses the compulsion to experiment and take flights of fancy. His imagination may run away with him, and cause him to make an occasional statement he can’t back up. You’ll have to make him see the importance of keeping his word. She keeps her multiple natures hidden behind the image she chooses to project the most frequently. As long as you don’t demand consistency from her, she’ll be completely fascinating.
They hesitate to put their thoughts on paper because they instinctively know that what they believe today, they may not believe tomorrow- and they don’t want to be committed in writing. Deep inside his searching, impatient nature, the Gemini seeks an ideal, and his chief problem is in recognising what it is. It could be anything, since his imagination knows no boundaries. Money, fame, wealth, love and career are never quite enough. The grass always looks greener just across the road. He has a brilliant humour, tact, diplomacy and adroitness-yet he lacks persistence and patience. He throws away the precious old too quickly for the untried new, and then lives to regret the instant disposal. In spite of all the people around him, he shares his deepest emotions only with his one constant companion-his other twin self. You’ll adjust much better to a Gemini if you send him out for a loaf of bread on Monday and don’t expect him back until Thursday. Never look for him until you see him coming - and don’t hang onto his coat-tails when he wants to leave. He’ll be impatient, critical and petulant. No use asking why, you won’t get an answer that makes any sense.
“Along the way I stopped into a coffee shop. All around me normal, everyday city types were going about their normal, everyday affairs. Lovers were whispering to each other, businessmen were poring over spread sheets, college kids were planning their next ski trip and discussing the new Police album. […] Nothing would seem out of place. In spite of which — or, rather, all the more because — here I was, sitting in this coffee shop, drinking my coffee, feeling a desperate loneliness. I alone was the outsider. I had no place here.”—Haruki Murakami