{goldfish in a gilded cage}: 2012

9.30.2012

{mail lurve one - meow}

About a few weeks back, my ladies and I were busing it back to chez Amanda. It was a looong ride {no sex jokes here - be an adult. heh} and I had time to kill so I started doodling a kitty being watched by a child. My girl Nanar kept on was watching me doodle - and a few days after, I thought it'd be cool to start a series of mail love to send out and feature on my blog. Here's the product of my love of drawing and mail:


"meow" for nanar . by sassica

"meow"s behind.


decked out mail lurve envelope

If anyone would like to receive one of my beauties, please lemme know! I love mail, don't you? ;)

-lurve-
{sassica}

9.06.2012

{bluebird and the way to normal | part one: now.}

“There's no time like now” says the teal sticky in my notebook. It beams right back at me as a constant reminder that if I don’t want to live a life full of regrets, I have to live in the now, keep later in mind, and not beat myself up about before. Instead of seizing the day in a reckless manner, I hope to incorporate an imaginative and almost playfully curious approach towards exploring new interests – with my cautionary inner mother signaling the red flag whenever something smells fishy (and no one wants to “sleep with the fishes,” right?). In the spirit of carpe diem, Lenka’s song “Live Like You're Dying” resonates well with the concept of doing things that will enhance my life to a vibrant and memorable non-tangible entity. Barney Stinson would probably advise me to make life “legendary.” Arnold would most likely say, “Do eet now!”

The recent development of a certain something that will follow me like a shadow through the rest of my days has brought forth a new perspective on how to live a better and fuller life. For starters, I want/need to work on being happier with what I have and focus on the good that I am fortunate enough to be surrounded with instead of focusing on the lack of coveted things. Also, I have to get it into my head that although “wants” and “needs” can cross paths with one another, they are two different concepts that can conflict with one another as well. Emotions are often seen as truth-telling, but experience and the literature I was given to combat anxiety say that emotions are not necessarily (reliable) sources of truth

healthy emotional salad for thought

For instance, say I was having a terrible day because a client of the neighboring corporation that my company is sharing the office space with is lost, frustrated, and threatens to bomb the building. The personalizing and self-defeating automatic negative thoughts I could have are that I’m stupid and naïve, and it doesn’t pay to be nice to help out a person who looks lost inside the building. Now it’s not necessarily true that I’m stupid, and you know what, sometimes it does pay to be nice and cordial to strangers – but it just happens that this one time, the man I was talking to probably has major problems. It could happen to anyone – mean or nice, smart or stupid. Also, the way I handled the situation isn’t naïve because I followed protocol and reported it to the building manager who then called the shots to contact the police.

ain't that the truth

As my life will have it, even with protocol and the basic precautions taken to avoid disaster, the not-so-great unexpected would happen. That’s my catalyst towards remembering what does make me laugh and smile. Yellow daffodils, puppies, my little nephews laughing at the sound of farts and burps, hamburgers to satisfy my ridiculous hunger, a cup of hot chai tea latte, and good company. Sometimes when I force myself to smile, I feel a little lighter and a little happier – like I can move forward again.

Smile, though your heart is aching

Smile, even though it’s breaking

When there are clouds in the sky,

you’ll get by

If you smile through your fear and sorrow

Smile and maybe tomorrow

You’ll see the sun come shining through

for you

Light up your face with gladness

Hide every trace of sadness

Although a tear may be ever so near

That’s the time you must keep on trying

Smile what’s the use of crying

You’ll find that life is still worthwhile

If you’ll just

Smile

--with much love and the best of intentions--

{sassica}

7.28.2012

{Jabba the Hutt’s love handles}

I wish I knew the secret that genuinely happy couples have in keeping a strong lifelong relationship. Because twice in my life, I thought I had it – but just when everything seemed hunky dory, established, and bonafide good – a switch is pulled, I’m thrown off my feet, and I have to do the longest double take to realize what the fuck just happened.

Where is this Holy Grail knowledge of all non-platonic relationships? How do you not get tired of the same incessant petty problems in a relationship? How do you prevent men from getting too comfortable and letting themselves go (and thus, become more and more like Jabba the Hutt)?

The man you were once losing sleep over is now an overgrown child who ate all of your secret chocolate stash behind your back. Then when you get mad, he’ll get mad at the fact that you’re mad at him as if you’re the one who has done something wrong.

Soon instead of getting spooned, you are asked to be the spooner. Wait a year or so until he asks you to sleep alone on your side while he sleeps on the other side. Maybe if things turn out worse, you’ll get twin double beds like the Ricardos. God, he’s snoring again. Where is the off switch??

Part of me blames the whole manchild genre of films popularized by Judd Apatow and his crew. Remember when the every day all American male was idealized in Hank Fonda or Jimmy Stewart? Golly, self-sufficient men.

Henry Fonda

James Stewart

Well, hell, it’s all Jason Segel and Seth Rogen types now. Don’t get me wrong, I had a phase during my college days when I had the absolute hots for Jason Segel – but how exactly is being a slob sexy? Non-threatening and relatable maybe – but sexy in a Christian Grey-like piercing into your soul and making you melt kind of way? No – never.

Jason Segel

Seth Rogen

I want a man who knows how to do his own laundry and who doesn’t ask me things like, “If I throw this in, the stain will wash out by itself, right?” (Wash your own poo stains, dude!) I want a man who knows that in order to hand wash dishes, you do not put the dish detergent on the plates directly, but you have to put the concentrated detergent on the sponge in order to washes les dishes. Those two things and knowing that insulting any female family members is a deal breaker as well as never ever joking about rape are four basic criteria for not driving me crazy in a long term relationship – that’s not too much to ask for, is it? I have enough trouble trying to take care of myself, so how am I supposed to do that when I have to mother a grown man? I don’t want something Oedipal going on here.

For now, in the unattached state that I am in, I want to see how long this manless period will last for. Pray that it will last for at least 2 – 3 months, please.

- toodles! -

{sassica}