Tuesdays

Feeling free dancing in the ocean this spring. 

A taste of some freedom is honestly all I’m aching for. A simple touch of the delicious appeal of free-spiritedness and flight. To feel nostalgic for these present days. To miss the people who have spiraled themselves into my daily routine and think of them fondly as I run away wild with my dreams. To say to the most mundane of Tuesdays— “You no longer trap me here!” To perhaps, even scream it, without the slightest sense of shame. I want to truly have no chains. I want to grab life and slap it in the face. I want to slap the ‘reality’ of what ‘they’ say I can accomplish back at it and flash the world with the brightest of my successful scores. The bands with march, the music with play, the parade route will lengthen at the mention of it all. Colored confetti will shoot out of the crowds’ hearts. Hope will return to the masses and Tuesday will no longer just be Tuesday. Tuesdays will be days for daydreaming, whispering, listening, praying, meditating, studying ourselves, and small significant adventures.  On Wednesdays we will dance and shout and lengthen the sonographs of our proud and worthy voices like kites soaring to the heavens. We will hold hands on Thursdays and Fridays and be reassured by this simple human interaction. We will leave fingerprints of ourselves upon others and we will change one another. We will fill each others’ ears and heads with our passions. I want to taste this kind of freedom. I want to get myself out of this cage of everydayness and find something that endearingly inspires me to see the world in greens, blues, and reds. I want the warmth of the sun-kissed future of our generation to finally place itself upon my cheek. I want to discover hope and brand its essence on my chest.  I want my friends to ever be surrounded by peace and joy. A peace and joy that is humble, sincere, and so deserved. I want to lay under the stars and feel the vastness of the earth engulf me. I want to be swallowed by calm and understanding. To drown in the grace and beauty of feeling that I am exactly where I ought to be. I am ready to run dangerous fast to this freedom.

In Defense of Duckie.

  

Andie and Duckie looking pensive and perfect together. 

Thanks to Netflix, I've been spending my free time shamelessly consuming 80's teen flicks. Last night, I indulged in the classic era-iconic movie, Pretty in Pink. Now, first I must admit, I've watched this movie throughout most of my teeny-bopper days and even before my daily obsession of the early 2000's, Gilmore Girls, told me it was cool to love Molly Ringwald and her flawlessly gaudy clothing. I've seen the film play in and out dozens of time, all the while wishing it would end with Andie (the beautiful leading home-made fashionista) and Duckie (her dorky, quirky, slightly effeminate best friend) together. Spoiler alert--- it never does. Never. Andie consistently winds up tongue-tangled with Blane (a pretty 'richie' with tame taste in music), and I remain slightly heartbroken over it.  So, what is it about the underdog that intrigues and pulls at my heartstrings so? What is it about Duckie that makes him the standout character?

Why I will always chose the "Duckie" in real life :

Duckie is shamelessly and genuinely in love and he makes it known to both Andie and the world on a regular basis. He shows his affections in a heart-on-his-sleeve manner and isn't ashamed to the one in a million boy who would devote his life to the happiness of another.  Oh, and he isn't afraid to jam out to a hard-core lip-syncing session, which makes him a golden boy in my book.  He would marry that girl in the blink of an eye if he only had a chance. Duckie is an individual. He is so splendidly unique it makes me question my routine wardrobe and mundane vocabulary. Maybe I should rock a bolo tie and use phrases like 'volcanic ensemble." His individuality makes him entirely unforgettable and his unwavering adoration makes him my prince charming in a patterned vest. 

Why the "Blanes" don't deserve us:

Blane is handsome, sure. But does he really get you? Could he ever know what really gets your blood flowing or your heart racing. I don't think so. Your taste in movies, music, and how you spend your free time are on two totally different rotating spectrums. And yeah, he could be the best kisser on the block, but is there any substance behind those lips. He has money and generic charm but he also lacks bravery and depth. There are instances and conflicts where Blane has the opportunity to defend Andie's existence to his own friends and yet he can't muster the courage. There is even a point when Blane stops talking to Andie altogether due to some nonsense his horrid side-kick of a friend feeds him. And now it's the end, and the audience is supposed to forgive so easily and fall madly in love with this khaki boy? Enjoy those hot kisses while they last Blane-lovers, I don't foresee a great future here. 

In all honesty, I've had my fair share of kissing and romancing both Blane and Duckie.  And I will always be in defense of the Duckies in the world. What some may deem strange or unfamilar, I find interesting and intriguing. When someone has something that sets them apart, they will forever be remembered. 

Moral of this horribly great 80's flick as seen through my eyes:

Find your something. Find the thing that is truly you, that one thing that makes you completely unique.  Once you find it, don't be ashamed of it. Clasp it tightly by the lapels and never let go. You are simply the best version of you. And your quirks are the most beautiful part. When you are in love. Say it.  Say it with a bravery like Duckie. No matter what happens in the end (even if the one you love doesn't return the affection or isn't meant to be with you) you can be proud  of yourself for displaying courage. Oh, and always, always, stick up for your friends and loved ones. They deserve that simple goodness. 

Truly, nothing makes a kiss greater than when it is from a duck-man who loves you, your scrunchies, mismatched earrings, oh, and of course that Pretty-in-Pink Prom dress.  

Solace in a Coffee Shop

And today, Starbucks is my contemplation destination.

And that's just the thing about life... We are all looking for a way to disappear from the feeling of being lost. We all need some sort of a blending hideaway, one that allows us to be out of our element and oxymoronically comforted at the same time. All so that we may figure out how to be just one glorifying step above the rest.  Yes, we are the generation of shiners. We want brightness and a beauty that is unable to be vanquished or suffer extinction. We want to hold our own and be able to brilliantly and gracefully hold the world on our thriving shoulders at the same time.  Still, there will be a moment when even you, require significant time with your own thoughts and are desperate to figure out this sometimes terrifyingly unpredictable life. And when you finally vanish into the coffee shop, surrounded by eyes preoccupied with quiet technology, the sounds of India Arie, and the ironically soothing taste of caffeine. You will notice yourself drowning in a sea of fellow lost and longing comrades. You will ask yourself what decision you will make this time. Are you a runaway? Are you a fighter? And isn't running away also considered a form of severe fighting in certain circumstance? Which circumstance is this?  Will you stay... stay predictable and potentially yet generically happy or will you run incessantly into the sweeping unknown in the search of... of something, just so that the question "What if I ran?" would no longer haunt your expanding imagination? Take a moment to breathe in your environment. Smell the coffee beans. Close your eyes. No one notices you here. Be content if just for a fleeting moment. And remind yourself to be brave. To be so incredibly brave. Nothing genuinely beautiful can happen by remaining stagnant.  Remind yourself that you are not alone. The women next to you adorned in her purple scarf and indulging in a romance novel- she just wants to disappear from the dread of her cubicle and the unnerving gaze of her boss. The older man in the  fogged glasses looking out the matching fogged and smeared window dreams of a time when he will no longer be alone and his family will be near. And the barista with the sad eyes and smile, she is dreaming and wishing as hard as she can for of her moment of glory to finally come to fruition. Humans are oxymorons. We are all lost, loving it, and looking for a way out. But we are runaways together, even if our thoughts are the only thing running. 

"Slow down you crazy child, you can't be everything you want to be before your time." 
Billy Joel 

Learning to share my inner light...

Maya Angelou speaks:

"There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you."

The journey begins, now. 

Tonight, as I looked up to the sky, I breathed in the uncountable, untouchable atmosphere of the chilled winter night. The wind cooly filled my veins and made me feel suddenly alive. I sighed and wondered who I was and what story I could possibly have to share.

My story... well, it's still being written, lived, and it's changing everyday.  Even though my story is ever-evolving and although I am just your ordinary girl, somehow I can't help but feel that it must bear at least a spark of significance.  So here goes...

Nostalgia

Dreaming of the summer during this chilly winter season. 

There is something special about coming home in the summer. 
The air is sweet here and the flowers are in full bloom.  The sun seems to shine just as  bright and time with family is truly treasured.  At the city park, red and white checked table cloths are laid out while people share a picnic under the gazebo.  The scent of cherry pie and tomato salads intoxicate the air. There is a band playing songs, perhaps not of musical genius, but the efforts are honest and the players' smiles are genuine.  The town is small and full of gossiping busybodies who snicker and giggle and are always open to conversation.  In fact, some topics of interest I wish I could keep to myself. Yet, I find myself unafraid to share my life's mini endeavors with them.  I realize, away from the business and amongst the warm breeze of this town, that I miss home.  And almost, just almost, I wish I could stay longer.  But, my life is moving and I intend to keep chasing it full speed.  Still, it is nice to know that no matter where my crazy life takes me and whatever roads and rivers it may lead me across, I will always have the sweet cherry pie of summer waiting for me at home.