Midnight Snack

One thing I am TOTALLY qualified for? Making out.

I can see this ending badly.

Then again, "this" hasn't even really begun.

Boys are just so terribly delicious!

Yum.

xoxoxoBon

And just to make you feel better...

http://cajunboyinthecity.blogspot.com/2007/05/extreme-craigslist-missed-connections.html

Too many religious metaphors for one pep talk

Life is one long resume of underqualifications (new word?).

No, really, did anyone pop out knowing everything they were going to need for life? How fucking boring for them.

If you always think someone else is better suited than you, they will be, if only because you didn't have the balls to say, "Hey, I can do this damn fine!" and they did. She who hesitates is lost. Like I've been telling you, it's all about the act. Do you think Dad is "qualified" to teach teenagers about the Constitution? No effing way. But he's saying he is, and people are believing him.

The best thing I ever learned about getting away with stuff is act like you know what you are doing and no one else will notice you are out of line. In other words, believe in yourself. I know it sounds cheesy, but a healthy self-esteem is what gets stoopid people elected and snake oil salesmen rich.

It's also what leads good, honest people to happiness.

There is some principle thought up by Thomas Aquinas -- even if you don't truly believe in the tenets of Christianity, if you go through the motions, it is enough. Eventually the value of them will sink in and you will reap the benefits.

If you go through the motions of a "qualified" person, you will become that person. It's like that crappy "visualization" shit that the hippie yoga teachers are always going on about, only one (or ten) step better. Like the Buddha's Dhamma: if you know the Truth, you do the Truth, and if you do the Truth, you know the Truth.

It's up to you, Bon. I know you are feeling blue, maybe useless, but they would not give you the responsibility if they didn't think you could handle it. Whether you are qualified or not, they think you can do it. Live up to their expectations while you raise your own a bit higher...You can do it.

xxxAnnie

Underqualified

Do you ever just feel completely underqualified to be doing everything in your life?
Do you ever just feel completely underqualified to be living your life?

I know I asked you this aready yesterday, but I think it's really important for me to know that I'm not the only one who feels like someone else would be better suited for the job of being me.

I only really know one language. English. This, most likely, will never change. It's small, but makes me sad. What does this mean?

I'm not sure where I'm going with this. In fact, I'm not sure where I'm going at all (figuratively, of course. literally, I'm going down to Bleeker in a few minutes for a meeting and then back up here to work and then uptown to babysit. and then, home sweet home, in which I have not spent more than a half hour of wakefulness since Saturday. weird.

xoxoxoBon

What It's All About

Sometimes, I have these truncated moments where I think "this is what it's all about." And then my ice cream topples over, my Metrocard runs out, and the strap on my bag breaks. But, nonetheless, while I'm standing on the corner of 104th and West End clutching the tiny hand of a five-year-old, life seems to make sense for a second. If nothing else, I think that at least I can try to make this one little person's life better, easier, sweeter. Even if she's only five. Even if she doesn't notice the flaming sunset over Riverside Park like I do. Even if she's more involved in eating her lemon sorbet than I am in the thoughts of people I once knew.

I think, even at 24, this is why I desperately hope to (ONE DAY) have children- so that, in some cosmic chain of people, I will know that I made a difference. Not just hope that I make a difference, not just believe the hippy-crap that "we all can make a difference" (even if we can), but to know that I am doing something in this universe for someone other than myself. Know, inherently and undeniably, that my life means more than just my life. Because in the grand scheme of things, my little life is, well, little. And I am so unmistakeably aware of that fact.

I have been up and down and floating in and out so much lately- but then, when I think about it, this is how I've always been, just sometimes more up or more down more often. Anyhow, I know I have been working harder than I ever have before, harder even than the summer I worked and went to school often from 8 am to midnight. Because unlike crappy campus jobs and food service and even school, I actually have to use lots of brain power doing what I do now. Brain power, and organization, and damn if it's not excruciatingly hard to keep myself enthusiastic and motivated to do all these multiple jobs at once. I think, Life is hard. And then I think, no it's not- I mean, yes it is- but, compared to many in this city my life is a cakewalk. A cakewalk in the park. A cakewalk in the park in the sun. So, I keep going, hoping that when I "get it together" (whatever IT is), all the pieces will fall into place and I will become who I am destined to be. Which, not unlike the question in your previous post, is thus far a total mystery. Our purpose(s)? Our destiny? Questions not meant to be answered at the moment.

I'm reading this great book about a woman who, for lack of a better description, travels around the world to "find herself" (among other things). She also happens to be a travel writer so this situation works out for her. I'm at the part of the book where she is at an Ashram in India, spending 4 months intensely meditating and seeking God. And, also, like most of us, her purpose. It sounds (again, for lack of a better description), divine. I just hope to God I can answer my own questions without having to spend 4 months in India (which would be amazing, but I lack the book advance this woman had to pay for it).

Maybe I am answering my own questions. Maybe you can too. Maybe sometimes we just need a violent sunset and a tiny hand. Or maybe we just need someone who needs us.

xoxoxoBon

Lost: My Writing. Girly, fanciful, wangsty and grammatically correct.

Where has my writing gone?


Two years ago, I was an avid, fruitful writer of thoughts, dreams, desires, fears, rants, raves, poetry, songs, long lists (of the "to-do" and "packing" variety, mostly). The evidence falls out of dogeared notebooks (mostly spiral-bound), scrapbooks, photo albums, old websites. It's scribbled in pencil and blue ink, black ink, pink ink, ball point pen, fountain pen, Sharpie, rich text. It's personal, embarassing, stupid and true.

Last summer, I hit a point, sometime in June. I couldn't write anymore. I didn't want to. It had been my New Year's resolution to write every day, but had been forced for a long time. Even during freshman year, I don't remember really writing anything substantial. I re-read my old journal entries and it all blends together.

The only times I wrote and felt it was truly worthwhile were in high school. In the middle of drama and pain and love and feelings and events which I now label "stupid", "childish" and "past". They are past, but I used to have this knack for holding onto what was past and wringing it out, woolling it around and beating it like a dead horse till I had gotten all the creativity out of it that I ever possibly could. And doing it all over again till some "life-changing" event negated it and let me move on. And write about that.

Maybe it's just that I haven't had anything worth writing about. Maybe I haven't had anything worth thinking about to the point that I have to write it out. I haven't wanted to think about much of anything in a long time.

I think that's what is scariest and saddest of all.


I'm hoping this summer gives me fodder for my pen. And desire. I want to want it again. Like you, I want a purpose. I used to have one -- to get rid of my angst, to find a new way of wallowing, to express something in words no one has ever used before.

I don't know what my purpose will be, when I find it [if I find it?]. I'm just so ready for it.


xxxAnnie

A Day with Poison and the Faux Beau

Life lesson #749202193187:
Getting a job (and really, getting most things) is all about repeating the same kiss-ass stuff, day in and day out. No joke. They certainly don't prepare you for that in college, but we all find out sooner or later. So keep up the good ass. I mean work.

On another note, what is your silly photo of? Sure does make me smile :)

On another another note, I am going to be in a Poison music video! Here is a picture of me at the studio:




(I will not be wearing the blond wig in the video, but I have always been curious as to how I'd look as a blonde)

Anyhow, the story is that the studio that Taylor does animation for is doing this Poison music video for their cover of "What I Like About You" in which they are creating a yearbook (which Taylor will then animate at some point) and they needed lots of people to come have their portrait taken. Carrie and I were eager volunteers so there will be several "versions" of us floating around this thing, think "Bonnie as angry hipster," "Bonnie as goody goody straight-A student" and "Bonnie as excitable sorority girl." In any case, there's a pretty good chance you'll see my best acting skills on display on VH1 sometime in the near future. Not only did I get to try on that hot wig, but I also got paid $1.00- and I swear that was the most fun I've ever had turning to the right and tilting my head to the left, chin down slightly, good, good, now look at me and smiiiile!

After that, I had my daily cappucino with Carrie, went to work, and then met my fake boyfriend's real mother. Then I had strawberry mojitos with my fake boyfriend. And a nice dinner. And then, after the promise of a week at his beach house this summer, my fake boyfriend and I said goodbye and I thought, I get everything but romance (and sex) out of this relationship... perhaps it isn't so bad after all. And then I realized that I would never be able to live with that, with any sort of pseudo relationship, EVER, and that this is the main reason I am still single after almost two years in this city. But I'm ok with that. After all, fake boyfriends are fun to hang out with, but I'm gonna hang in there for the real thing.


I will admit, I did get a pretty good deal for going along with his charade for one evening- food, booze, and a beach house- what more could a girl ask for? And, I am just now remembering- you, my dear, will benefit as well from this little shore excursion- we just have to pick a week this summer, and after a 40 minute ride on the LIRRRRRRRR we shall be in a salty, alcohol-infused paradise!

I can't think of anything more useful to say right now, as after this excruciatingly long week (when are my weeks not excruciatingly long these days?)my brian is fried and this has become apparent to even my boss. Which says a lot.

xoxoxoBon

Life?

I posted my nanny ad to craigslist last night and already got two responses (one of which I turned down, because they wanted a live-in nanny in CT and really, wtf? I put Manhattan as my area of choice! Sheesh). That is positive.

I'm applying to several more day camps and suchwhat, if I can ever get over my distaste for writing the same kissass thing again and again to different people.

I really want to find some summer employment ASAP so I can rest assured that next year won't be spent eating the frog equivalent of Cup O'Noodles in one of the culinary capitols of the world.


Bah. Feel better picture:



xxxAnnie

I recorded shit!

A song Jay made up on the spot for his sweet son Wyatt. Totally adorable and awesome. I have 14 more songs for your listening pleasure!

Little Ranger


xxxAnnie

Best Subject Line Ever:

"Are we camping on your roof tomorrow?"

Just being able to write this sentence makes me happy to be alive, and in New York, and in and around rooftops. Even if it doesn't actually happen.

On another note, I'll have to get back to you regarding my fake date, fake boyfriend, and my fake boyfriend's mom. This is a good one!

xoxoxoBon

Alternately

The place God calls you to is where your deep gladness and the world's deep hunger meet.

- Frederick Buechner