The Life That Is Mine

This past Sunday my friend Pleasant took me to a comedy show at the Improv. I have been to these before but this time, for the first time, I knew of and loved the comedian who was headlining. D.L. Hughley. I have always been a fan but after the show - I officially love him. He was hysterical and brilliant as he improvised a good portion of the show using people in the audience. Leaving the Improv, I realized just how important laughter is. I had had a crummy-ish week and the non-stop, cheek hurting laughter during the 2 hours show improved my mental, emotional and physical feeling. Still smiling and remembering the jokes that he made...taking turns recalling the best ones with Pleasant...and pathetically attempting to repeat them...I didn't even notice the bitter cold, snowy walk back to the car. (except for when I tripped/slid and almost bit it)
Sometimes we need to take a minute to put our worries on the back burner and enjoy life...laugh...laugh so hard that you cry...laugh so hard that your cheeks are numb the rest of the night...laugh so hard that your ribs are literally sore the next day. Laughter truly is the best medicine. I thank D.L. Hughley for bringing a dose of uncontrollable laughter into my life on Sunday and for allowing me to begin my week with a breath of fresh air.

As usual...a zillion random thoughts and over-contemplations of those thoughts ran through my mind today. At one point, upon thinking about some current situations in my life, a quote that I have heard many times popped into my head. It is short and simple and yet prefectly brilliant.
"Never allow someone to be your priority, while allowing yourself to be their option."

I think this quote is great...so obvious...yet something too many of us do not follow. It is something that I have not exactly followed throughout my life...often making certain people a priority in my life...while I allowed myself to be simply an option. Doing so only sets one up for disappointment...sadness...hurt...heartache. So, why do we continue to allow it? It is a confusing occurence...one that I will come back to soon...

I realized today that nothing makes me nauseous faster or more intensely that being confined to a small space with a man who wears too much cologne. Leaving work, I was riding the elevator from the 13th to 1st floor. The elevator stopped on the 11th floor where the men's locker room is located. A young man who I had seen earlier working out stepped into the elevator with a smile and now wearing a black suit and sky blue tie. I smiled back...then attempted to hide the gag reflex that my body produced the instant that those doors shut. It smelled as if someone had dumped out the bottle into the tiny room...and you could tell it was not a particularly nice smelling cologne to begin with...rather one that, upon smelling just a spray or two, might burn your nose...cause you to crinkle the patch of skin between your eyebrows...but the excess that this man had applied was simply nauseating. I think he honestly smelled better when he had been sweating in the gym about an hour earlier. My recommendation as far as cologne and perfumes...less is better...don't spray enough to gag your fellow elevator passengers.

As I mentioned in my previous blog, I spent this past weekend cleaning out my room. I came across many memories, one of which was the video tape of my skydiving adventure in Hawaii.
While I was in Honolulu for school, I had the opportunity to skydive twice. The second time was a birthday present from the rents and so they also allowed me to purchase the overpriced video that they offer. Overpriced? yes. Worth it? yes. I popped in the 8 minute video immediately after I stumbled upon it and instantly longed to be back up in that sky...over that ocean...looking at those mountains. There is something amazing about the peace and the freedom of floating among the clouds.
The initial jump was an absolute rush...6 forward flips out of the plane...and then a 1-minute freefall through the sky...the wind so loud and so powerfull as the air allows you to aggressively pass through. Then, boom...stillness and silence. The parachute opens and you are floating. It was the closest I have ever come to complete silence...complete peace...un-disturbable by anyone else...or any of life's daily stressors.
It is ironic in that I consider those moments to be the moments in which I felt the safest...falling from the sky...jumping out of a perfectly good plane...trusting a parachute to gently place me back on earth after beginning the journey from miles up above. Yet, I felt safe. No one could hurt me...no one could intrude into my space...nothing could touch me. There was a freedom up there that was so surreal...a beauty that could not be illustrated...a feeling that can not be reinvented with both feet on the ground.
Skydiving was an amazing experience...one that I will never forget...and one that I hope to enjoy many more times in the future.

Over the weekend, I spent countless hours cleaning out my room and closet which had previously looked as if a tornado had passed through. I finally parted with some of the junk that I save for no reason, organized everything from shelves to drawers to my bed...and dusted every nook and cranny that I could get my hands on. It was a tiring task...hours and hours...but I also found a great deal of pleasure during and after my cleaning process.
Afterwards, my room seemed so much brighter as you could see the pink carpet, yellow walls, and beautiful dolphin blanket that covers my bed. It smelled fresh and clean with a tropical, coconut aroma. It was fascinating how uncluttering my room and my environment so hugely uncluttered my mind as well. When I walked in my room for the first time after it was clean, I felt refreshed...my mind clear...well at least more clear than usual. The project that I had accomplished felt great and left me with an optimistic attitude towards the start of a new school semester this week.
This post-cleaning pleasure is quite understandable to most people I think. However, it was not afterwards that generated the happiest feelings. It was during. How? It was simple. My room overflows with amazing memories. Every picture frame, dolphin or frog figurine, every trinket that I had to pick up in order to dust my shelves flooded my mind with happy memories. It reminded me how blessed I am with my family and friends...and how full my life has been despite some setbacks...and I am only 23. The experiences that I have had, the relationships I have established, and the love that fills my life is overwhelming.
Each picture brought back vivid memories of happy times from childhood to present. At every dusty shelf, I was greeted with loving family and friends...pictures...gifts...so many different and random things...things that can not be described by anything that I write, but can only be felt in my heart.
There are so many things around my room as well...so many that often when friends or family pass through, they are captivated and spend quite some time perusing all that I have on display...they are always smiling as they do this...asking questions...complimenting or expressing their interest in this or that...unknowingly reminding me of how truly blessed I am. Although I am surrounded by all of these things daily, I often do not take the time to study each of them...to open my mind to the positive things in my life...the friendships...the family...the love...the memories...the accomplishments. There is so much positive...yet I tend to focus on the negative at times...it's something I need to work on. I may not have a lot of money...well any money really...but I could not ask for more out of life than the things of which I was reminded this weekend.
I think that I will be cleaning my room on a very regular basis in the future :-)

This past New Year's Eve, something quick, silly and minor happened that became an analogy in my head to explain the way that I and many others often live life.
A group of us were on our way from the closing bar to Panini's...for 2 reasons: 1. they are open later than any other bar nearby 2. There is nothing better than a Panini's sandwich and/or pizza to wrap up a night of heavy drinking.
As we walked down the street, I was expressing the fact that I was famished, starving and that my stomach was "eating itself"...all of which were obviously overdramatic statements. Well, I tend to be a loud person even without a night of liquor under my belt, and a kind young guy heard my cries for food. He walked over to introduce himself with a half-eaten piece of mouth-watering pizza in one hand...and a glorious looking, untouched piece on the greasy plate that occupied his other hand.
He offered to give me his pizza since I was apparently quite convincing of the life or death situation that I was experiencing. Although I was taught in pre-school to never talk to or take from strangers...there was no turning that pizza down. However, this is not the incident that I later spent pondering.
I am not sure if this guy even finished his sentence of his willingness to share before my hand automatically reacted and reached towards it. Although he had a fresh, full, untouched piece of plain pizza on the plate that he had started to extend in my direction...I went right for the half-eaten piece...I grabbed it...took the biggest bite that I could and smiled. I thanked him profusely and we parted ways as my friends were still heading to Panini's...after all...they hadn't taken food from random people on the street. By the time we got to the bar only a few doors down, my half-eaten pizza was long gone. I was bummed...I wanted more...it was going to be a long wait and I wanted that other half!
Basically, what I am getting at...is that we make choices in life. Often times, we CHOOSE the "half-eaten" pizza even though the full piece is right there in front of us. We set ourselves up to be bummed or wanting more...and yet it is our own fault. We either get impatient...are worried about what others might think...or we just don't pay enough attention to realize the possibilities. I know this analogy is kind of goofy...but it makes total sense in my mind.
Often times...we don't take responsibilities for our choices. Fact of the matter is...we are free to make our own choices. We are not completely power-less over our lives and our destiny. Although there are times in life when we feel alone, doomed, hopeless...we are not as weak as we often think we are. We don't have to accept and/or expect the worst the worse of the potential outcomes. We don't have to settle for less than our dream.
We can not completely control the things that happen to us...we are all dealt different hands...some may be shittier than others...but we do have control over the way that we play them. We have control over choices to love or hate, be positive or negative, be free or oppressed, forgiving or bitter, hopeless or hopeful. Basically, it often comes down to the fact that we must learn to take responsibilities for our lives and for the way that we live them. We need to learn to better evaluate the situations before us and then make the decisions that are in our best interest towards personal health, happiness, etc...
It's all about attitude. "Whether you think you can or you can't...you're right." We will always have countless choices before us...but we must realize that oftentimes something may simply be a choice of attitue.
So, don't pass up the fresh slice of pizza that is presented to you for the half-eaten cold piece. :-) Don't settle...when something you want is in front of you...go for it. Don't expect or accept anything less. :-)

Well, about 2 1/2 years after getting my tongue pierced, I was forced to part with it. It was hard and definitely bummed me out...but was unavoidable. I have always known that tongue rings can damage your teeth, get infected, blah blah blah. My mother alone has reminded me of that hundreds of times. I did not think that it could do as much damage as it did though. I went to the dentist last week and my doctor had a very uneasy look on her face as she examined me. She told me that I must remove my tongue ring because it was completely destroying my teeth...chipping them and wearing away at the enamel of my teeth.
As someone with an oral fixation, I did constantly play with the metal bar in my mouth and the balls at each end of it...biting it, sliding it, twisiting it...anything I could do with it...and apparently although I was "orally occupied", I was also slowly but surely wrecking my teeth...to the extent that I will have numerous dentist visits in the near future to complete the work that will add up to upward of $1000. That is one expensive piercing...and my parents have been able to throw in quite a few "I told you so"'s since I shared the news. (I hate when that happens!)
I had grown quite attached to my tongue ring...but it's obviously past time to let it go. My mouth feels so awkward without it...and I have realized just how much I was playing with it in my teeth as I have been constantly and automatically attempting to do so...only to have nothing there. Anyhow...it was fun while it lasted...but not worth the consequences.
So...just a personal recommendation...if anyone is considering getting a tongue piercing...you may want to consider it just a little longer....unless you want dentures by the age of 50 and have thousands of extra dollars...neither of which category I fall into.
I guess I'll always have the countless scary pictures of my tongue to hold on to as memories :-P