Today

Today I really hate myself.

I feel it coming on strong. I don't know what it is. I feel this deep connection with the disconnection. It's like other people are repulsed by me.

I wish I could fast forward life. Fast forward to where I am older, wiser, and have a sense of myself. That I don't need to second guess my actions. That I make mistakes, and am grateful for what I learn. As of right now I am alone. And I don't mean the social kind. I mean that I feel empty. I feel that the only thing that separates me from the air is my skin. I am hollow.

For now, I will continue my education in hopes of becoming a better person in the future and discovering who I want to be. In the meantime, I am haunted by those around me who are content with their social, academic, and spiritual life. I must not cry about it. It's something that is constant. I just have to realize that the next day is going to come and everything will continue. I just wish my head could be filled with more positive thoughts that would conceive time as a gift, and not a burden.

Nature

Yesterday in my Media and Culture of the Environment class (which kicks ass!) the young feminine Italian professor engaged us in a discussion on the many definitions of nature. 

"All-encompassing of the environment, human perspective, intention and the order of things."

Wow. That blew my mind.

I suddenly realized what I want to do for the rest of my life. I want to be involved in Environmental Activism, whether it's through lobbying communication, farmers' rights, or even a grassroots campaign leader. I want to do it. I can't wait.

It just clicked.

Whew, got the fucking awesome news out of the way. But I think there's more...

(I don't know if it's the Zoloft talking, or the fact that I'm getting laid...)

So I've noticed that like bad things come in clusters. Not necessarily just threes. Well, as you have read from my previous blogs which addressed my battle with depression post-breakup, I have relayed my experience being a young girl who is trying to find love, creativity and a place in the world where I could fit perfectly. Unfortunately, other very unfortunate events happened to me. Did I tell you this? In a nutshell, my father basically told me that I'm a worthless piece of shit, I got laid-off, got robbed of all my most prized possessions in Europe (those damn fucking Germans..) AND my boyfriend of 2 1/2 years split. Talk about a depression clusterfuck. No wonder I felt so terrible, to the point where lifting up my covers from over my head in the morning was tedious. "Getting up to make a cup of coffee? Nope, too much work. I'm going back to sleep" was my emo mantra that I stood by. In a way, it was sometimes fun to have a pity party. 

Even though I am still battling depression, I have discovered an alternative approach to perceiving life. Basically, I just have to not worry, and do more creative outlets for myself. Yes, it is difficult not to worry about the robust $0.89 in my bank account when I have an electrical bill due. But recently, things have been working out. I just shouldn't worry. Its much easier than it sounds, I know.

I have to address two wonderful recent events in my life. Bear with me, Y'all.

So my adorable roommate Andrew told me last week that he found a job in Miami being a high school English teacher. When he told me the news, his eyes swelled with tears and he hugged me tightly. Yes, it is sad news, but in a way, his tears were bittersweet excitement. I told him not to worry, and that I would find a replacement. He has been so good to me. I will miss the lazy Sunday All-Saint's brunches we spend together, randomly deciding to get drunk at 2:15 in the afternoon, getting stoned and watching 30 Rock, making elaborate 5 course meals and noshing on it for days, our weekly Friday night Salsa lessons, having him being the voice of reason when I come home from an angry hipster-induced coma post Menace Beach, him allowing me to bitch about telemarketers and inconsiderate drivers, us taking power naps on my oversized vintage couch, and him always calling me "sweetheart," even after I drank his very expensive Riesling. I will miss him. 

I was, however, somewhat worried about who I would find as a replacement. I am so particular about things, it's almost like controlled untidiness. The very next day, one of my best friends Sarah and I were sitting on Andrew's (not my roommate, my SCAD best friend) balcony. She puts a Camel Blue cigarette up to her lips, takes a sip of whiskey and says "I fucking hate my living situation." We talked about it for a while, and then it clicked. 

"SARAHOHMYGODDOYOUWANTTOMOVEINWITHMEBRINGYOURADORABLEDOGANDALLYOURKICKASSARTSUPPLIESWECANBELITTLEBOHEMIANTWINSIESMAKINGDINNERSTOGETHERBECAUSEOURNAMESRHYME." 

"Um, Darrah. FUCK YES."

Moving onto the next recent great thing. And it is related to Sarah. Well, it is related to someone who knows her.

Back story real quick. I started an Okcupid account. I know, I know, don't judge me. I wanted to try a change of pace. I went on a date with this one guy who I was totally smitten by. To my dismay, he never called me again. That's ok, he's a loser.

On a more awkward note, Kate and I went to First Friday a few days ago. This other guy I had been talking to, but never met, offered to meet me there to say hello---or so I thought. He shows up by himself, as my crazy indie hippy friends come by storm. I could see his demeanor becoming nervous, which is totally OK. I was not annoyed with him in any way. It's just it was an awkward circumstance.

But one person in particular that came was my long lost crush, Evan. The tall husky mountain man whose soft red beard and paisley bandana tied around his neck gives me butterflies. He was there, and was quiet. I could tell he noticed I had brought along this guy, and seemed almost miffed. At that moment, I knew my interest in him was mutual. 

Eventually, this Okcupid guy left, and somehow we ended up walking back together to the Shit Shack (Sarah's humble abode). I invited everyone back to my place, so he would come. He did. After the party, we sat on my back porch. He showed me chords on the guitar and laughed with me when I had beer burps. Eventually everything was quiet. Not an awkward silence, but a moment of clarity. We embraced each other and kissed passionately. It was spectacular. 

The next night, me and all my closest friends, including Evan (he was my friend before a crush) went to a Karaoke bar. We were the youngest people there. I sang Fiona Apple's "Criminal." Evan and I split a pitcher of PBR. I felt his strong, guitar-calloused fingers stroke my thigh. It was perfect. 

The next day, we spent the day together, going to Monk's, drinking beer, and sitting on his Stern's street eclectic back porch, overlooking his chicken coop, communal arugula garden and the 'hole in the wall' bicycle repair store next door. I couldn't have asked for a better day. In the nighttime, I invited all of our friends over (Evan and I share all the same friends, pretty much). We played Madlibs, inserting wonderful words like "Stephen Hawking, moldy, alter boys, infested placenta casserole, lubricated reindeer, frothy." I don't think I've laughed that hard in my life. And the best part was, I got to share it with him. I felt comfortable. I still do. And I am excited for what comes next.

Spiratic!

I am noticing that I only blog when I have something very pertinent to discuss. Or rather, it's my way of bitching shit out.

OK, so I have a confession to make. Please don't judge me.

So I recently registered for an OKCupid account. For those of you who don't know, it's a dating site. Yep, I didn't think it would come to this, but it did. Actually, it was more of Andrew and Lauren's doing. I seriously feel ashamed, until I read the dozens of messages I get from guys saying nice things to me. I feel pathetic. I feel like I'm cheating. I shouldn't take what anonymous men say seriously. I don't even fucking KNOW them. And they don't know me!

So this is my current life. Me being frustrated with myself. At least it's better than Darrah's Great Depression of 2011. Fuck that year. It took a giant shit on me multiple times. I guess I deserve to be selfish and pick out men online like I'm jewelry shopping. Its kinda fun, but still shameful. I will only talk about it in this blog. Not even in real life. Scary, huh?

So I met this guy online and him and I have been in contact via texting. I think we may hang out tomorrow. I am scared shitless. He seems like the perfect package. What's the catch? There's always a catch. Maybe he has a pee fetish, or is a republican. Yikes.

I made the mistake of drunk texting him yesterday at 3 pm. Yes. Embarrassing. I told him that I was so excited to meet him. WHY did I do this? I am such a cancer. Moody, emotional, and irrational. That pretty much sums me up. 

Tub

Yesterday while I was house sitting, I decided to take a nice long bath in the new guest bathroom. I put my favorite "Bossa Nova" station on Pandora, looking up through the skylight to see a clear blue day. Lauren told me to do this, after she realized that I have been depressed since April.

While we were at Andrew's, we were all discussing our hopes and dreams for the future. When it came my turn to share, I couldn't even image what I dream of. I have been in such a dark place for so long that I never dream or fantasize. This scared me. No wonder these unfortunate events repeat themselves. I can't even begin to see the light at the end of the tunnel. Lauren turned to me and said "girl, you need to take a bubble bath." So I did. Even though I didn't get all the shampoo out of my hair, I didn't care. I am not a bath person, I am too impatient. But yesterday, I decided to put that behind me. Let all this shit go, and realize that the clouds still move. Let the skylight ease me into a meditation, while I sink into the warm abyss.

Pumpkin time

I've been house sitting for this older couple. They have the most adorable golden retriever. Her name is Maggie. She looks like a little golden angel. I woke up this morning to her sniffing my face and wagging her tail. I miss my dog, Susie, who was recently put to sleep because of her old age. So I feel it's very healthy for me to be around a younger, more energetic dog that in some ways reminds me of her.

Today is Thanksgiving and I am making cream cheese almond pumpkin bread (say that three times fast!). Andrew invited me to his house for Thanksgiving, so I felt it was appropriate to bring something. I think I may also make his wonderful mother, Carol, a thank-you card. She was kind enough to invite me, after hearing that my family is out of town for Thanksgiving. Carol is one of the most special mothers anyone could ask for. She has bright red hair, wears dark purple nail polish and dotes on the fashion designer Betsey Johnson. She is skilled in Hungarian cuisine and is a practicing Buddhist. Last time I went over to their house, she offered me a martini (obviously the key to my heart) and presented me with a gaudy bejeweled bracelet she bought in Savannah. Carol has been through it all. Her husband, Andrew's father, died in the early 90's. She remarried a man named Richard about ten years later (I think). Two years ago, he died from cancer. I cannot image how she can have gone through tragedies like that, and still make it out strong and compassionate for life. I can image that she has her moments of sadness and grief. But upon Richard's death, she redecorated her house with all sorts of exotic furniture and aesthetically-pleasing colors. She allowed herself to be a more open person. What a woman.

I am a little sad, because my family is in Cuba this week. I'm just gonna hop on my soapbox for a second and say that. I wish I could be there. Although I am so thankful to be with the Greenwood's, I would also like to spend some time with my family. But I am lucky that I have places that I can go on this holiday that is centralized around food and family. I have both, as well as amazing friends. I am thankful for that. And for my soon-to-be pumpkin bread creation. I have been a pumpkin kick recently. It is something that brings me incredible joy, because Fall is my favorite season. The smell of pumpkin is nostalgic. It reminds me of the days when my brother and I would pick pumpkins in this deserted pumpkin field out in Monticello, with a subtle smell of cloves in the horizon. And years later, I still don't forget that smell, as I mix in aromas of fall spices into my bread creation. 

My greasy hair

My lovely roommate pointed out that I don't take showers very often.

He says to me, as I'm lounging in my bed at 3 pm (still in my pj's) "I think you need a shower, kiddo."
I pull my blankets over my head and enjoy my warm cocoon I have established after hours of sleeping in. Get up? Now?

Grrrrrrr.

So I sit back and reminisce of my night last night. I went to a beautiful potluck that my dear friend Katy hosted (and I posted a recipe for my honey pumpkin pie, a dish I made!). Everyone brought something equally yummy. I was so full. I made a little social faux pas, however. Katy created this adorable "thankful tree" where everyone write on a post-it what they're thankful for. Most people wrote down "friends," "family," or "happiness." Silly me, being so selfish, I said loud and proud "birth control." Then ensued a sea of silence. Unbeknownst to me, Katy's roommate's friends are catholic. Whoops. Hell, at least I was honest.

After I recovered from fullness and humility, I was lucky enough to see my best friend, Andrew Greenwood. He just came home from Savannah College of Art and Design. He is studying photography. I can't get enough of him. Whenever we see each other, we can't help but embrace. It is pure love. I am blessed. We sat outside of Fermentation Lounge, stroking each others thighs. For being gay, we have so much sexual chemistry. Or perhaps just a lot of love for each other. We talked about how much we love the documentary "The September Issue," about the crazy world of Vogue editors. he quoted the flamboyant André Leon Tolley (Google him right now).

"My eyes are STARVING for beau-TEE!!!" Oh yes. Keep going.

Who else can I talk to about this but Andrew? I mean, seriously?? Our hedonistic lifestyles are compatible. We always refer to each other as the "girthy wood nymphs." Yeah that's us. WHAT.

He knows aesthetics, design, color and angles. He is the social glue of Tallahassee, yet he's taking Savannah by storm. He is the more likable Regina George. He is one of a kind. My king. My lumberjack. My partner in crime.

Bedroom

Ok, I totally need to brag about my room for a minute. It is my sanctuary, where I spend most of my time. I keep it clean, simple and calm-inducing. But most of all, I am absolutely smitten by my vanity (on the right). My dear friend Hannah gave it to me when she moved away to Beirut, Lebanon. I miss her dearly, and every morning when I put on makeup, I think of her. I also love the giant oak tree in our back yard, that brings all sorts of beautiful shadows in the late afternoon.

Cinnamon

I've been spending a lot of alone time recently, more so than before. Often times these moments of solitude are filled with anger, sadness and regret. I know many people would kill for the amount of free time that I have, but I am becoming restless. I often feel alone and unloved. But I am growing tired of these feelings. I am tired of this pity party. I will still continue to blog about my feelings, but I don't want any sympathy anymore. I need to move on.

I have been starting to develop new tasks for myself to occupy my mind. I have rekindled my beautiful relationship with my mandolin, and I have been drawing again. I really love it. Something special that I have discovered, however, is my love of cooking. My dear friend Katy (who has a blog called "First Apartment Living"...check it out! http://thefirstapartment.blogspot.com/) inspired me to document my endeavors and experiments with my hobbies. I have to thank her for all her inspirational creativity. And speaking of Katy, today she is hosting a Thanksgiving potluck, and I am bringing something I just sorta made up on a whim. It's one of my favorite dishes for fall...pumpkin pie! Except I added a little twist of honey and other various spices to really make it my own. I'm going to show you my recipe and please tell me what you think!

Darrah's Honey Pumpkin Pie

Serves 8

Ingredients:

-1 (15 oz) can 100% pure pumpkin
-1 cup evaporated milk
-2 large eggs
-1/4 cup honey
-2 tsp. pumpkin pie spice (1 tsp. cinnamon, 1/2 tsp. ground all spice, 1/2 tsp. ground cloves)
-3 generous tbsp. dark brown sugar
-1 (9-inch) ready-to-bake pie crust

Directions:
1. Preheat oven to 375 degrees F
2. In a large bowl, whisk together pumpkin, evaporated milk, eggs, honey, pumpkin pie spice and brown sugar
3. Pour mixture into pie crust (I sprinkled some extra cinnamon and a pinch of brown sugar on the top...why not?)
4. Bake 50-60 minutes, or until a knife inserted in the center of pie comes out clean
5. Cool completely before serving. Pumpkin pie is usually served room temperature, or perhaps a little cooled. Store the leftovers in a refrigerator.
6. Top with a dollop of cool whip or any sort of whip cream!

Hope y'all enjoy. I know I will!

Come one, come fall

I feel the urge to blog for the second time today. And I'm making no apologies.

I have discovered beautiful new things.

I did not cry this morning upon waking in the first time in weeks. It is always a battle for me to lift myself out of bed. My spirit is heavy, my head is mushy and my feet are cold. But most importantly, my heart aches. I will usually stare at my ceiling until I have no more time to contemplate going to class, and just do it (mostly). I take a long walk to the bus stop and notice how everyone enjoys being antisocial. That's OK with me for now, I would rather not discuss things with strangers. This is a recent occurrence. I just don't want to talk to anyone.

 But not this morning.

For the first time in months, I popped open my eyes 5 minutes before the alarm. I slid out of bed and opened up my French door closet and grabbed my long black dress that I usually wear when playing pool at the Warehouse. I wore my favorite bra and felt great, then applied some pink lipstick. My hair was curlier than it had been in months and my face was smooth. I wasn't quite happy, but I wasn't dreading the simple day ahead. I was excited to listen to a new song on my iPod.

Yesterday this handsome man asked me out to lunch after class. He has always sat right behind me in our class. He would occasionally mutter comments about various subject matter that would crack me up. He is intelligent and honest. I rarely had the courage to turn around and look at him in the eye. I noticed him recently when we had to do an in-class group assignment. He leaned forward in his chair and said "hey, mind being in my group?" I turned around and nodded. I am sometimes painfully shy. I turned my chair around and we examined an article together and discussed topics at hand. I could smell his cologne. I was getting distracted. That little voice in my head was saying "you slut, you just got out of a relationship. What are you doing?" (If you haven't noticed, I am sometimes very harsh on myself.) We had three other people in our group. When I spoke, he held a gaze. Then he said something funny and I snorted. I hate when I do that. He had a big smile on his face, as if he didn't care that I am shy dork. I later would sneak glances behind me, doing a nonchalant stretch or reaching into my backpack. "I am so suave," I would tell myself. "Just remain collected."

We grabbed pizza in the student union, and I got to talk to him about all sorts of stuff. I held my hand over my mouth, because I was embarrassed of my braces. He asked me why I was doing this, and told me to stop. I felt comfortable. We took a long walk around the university, enjoying each others' company. We proceeded to hang out at his place. I saw his beautiful old house. We drank beers, kissed, hugged and told each other how sexy we think each other is. It was fun. It gave me butterflies. Something new and exciting. Oh, to be young and free. And to finally feel good about myself again...

Death and Rebirth

It was one hell of a day yesterday. My dog that I've had since I was six was put to sleep. She had been experiencing sever dementia and couldn't control her hind legs when she walked. It was time for her to go. I do miss her. Reflecting upon this semester, I have had many losses. I am hoping that one day soon this will pass. I am ready to move on from the suffering. I suppose that is the first step.

Cafés and Bars

In times of suffering, I have always found that friends are the best medicine. They truly are remarkable. Every one of them.

Yesterday Melissa and I grabbed coffee from Black Dog café. We talked about relationships, friendships, school and wine. And after her class we studied at Red Eye coffee shop for a bit (yes, another coffee shop!) and grabbed drinks at Water Works. Melissa is the kind of gal who is adorably assertive. Her fashionable outfits always compliment her sense of honesty and compassion. And she laughs at my dorky jokes. I love her.

Later that evening I met up with Kate at St. Mikes. The moment I saw her, she had a huge smile on her face. Kate is one of those people who just gets you. Since we've become friends, she always tells me how much she loves me. Usually being shy, she has blossomed. She always wears simple, yet elegant dresses that reveal her detailed leg tattoos of shells and animals. Between taking turns in playing pool, she would walk over and hug me. What a sweetheart. 

Cold Wind

It's been a difficult week. I am noticing how much my neck tenses (which is constantly). Is this part of aging? And I am noticing how cold my house always is. Its hard to wake up in the morning, to plunge out of my warm cocoon of blankets into the cold air in my bedroom. The hardwood floor creaks and I stumble into the kitchen to make a warm pot of coffee.

Tuesday night Alex came over. He was locked out of his house and I had his spare house key. My heart was pounding, I wasn't ready to see him. But I did. He approached me in the dark. It was almost 1 am. The wind was blowing and rattled my bones. My heart felt ill. He asked me how things were. I replied with a quivering "OK," which was a lie. Then I started crying hysterically. He hugged me for a while, rocking me back and forth, kissed my cheek and said "it'll be alright, baby." Then we said goodbye. Again.  And I watched his car drive away into the night.

Lonesome Independence

The other day my friend did not call me until very late to hang out for a Halloween bonfire/shindig. I was pissed. I had my Jackie O. ensemble, straight with the full-length camel colored coat and a colorful headscarf with over sized sunglasses. I sat at my vanity and applied red lipstick, removed it, applied Burt Bee's chapstick and then kept re-applying some sort of fancy lipgloss. This process continued for a half an hour. I was killing time.

Then a wave of anger came over me. Here it comes again. The emotion wave.

I yanked my pearl necklace off and little beads fell all over the floor. I didn't give a shit. I threw off my black stiletto's and slammed the door. I immediately fell into my bed and started balling. Something in me had been triggered. I felt like the Hulk (sans the bulging green muscles). I lay motionless in my bed for three hours. I didn't even feel like getting up to pee. I grabbed my phone, put it on silent and threw it on the hardwood floor. I was miserably angry, and couldn't stop crying. I even scared myself a bit. I NEVER slam doors. What was wrong with me?

A while later it hit me: I felt alone. I felt that people weren't calling me because they didn't want to hang out with me, or didn't care. And instead, poor me, I am home alone on a Saturday night of Halloween weekend. I had been thinking about Alex. How much I missed him. How, if we were together, I wouldn't be feeling this way. I wouldn't be alone, on a cold night, with a disheveled Jackie O. look. But then I realized, I was acting dependent. Dependent upon other people for my own entertainment and self-worth. Why can't I just be happy with myself?

Shortly after this small epiphany, one of my friend's called me. She told me there was a Zombie dance party at Mockingbird Café. I threw on my back-up costume (80's Go-Go dancer/High school slut) and high tailed it over to the café. We drank PBR's and talked about life, then headed over to Level 8 and watched the sparkling horizon dim. After what I had experienced earlier in the evening, the experience was perfect.

soy un perdedor

Sometimes emotions come in waves.

Take, for instance, sadness.

The other night, I was fortunate enough to spend quality time with my friends. We were all hanging out on my back porch drinking beer and laughing. It was fantastic. We decided to go play pool at the Warehouse. A friend of a friend was there. He complemented my long black dress, let me choose songs on the Jukebox and insisted on teaching me new pool tricks. I was deeply flattered.

Later we were sitting on my porch. Somehow, the topic of rejection came up. He had been rejected from the Marines, and a girl had broken his heart. I suddenly realized I wasn't alone.  Its a feeling of loss. We all encounter it at some point or another, in various forms. Whether its the loss of a relationship, a goal or a life. You have to lose something in order to gain. That is what I'm beginning to realize.

..and so it begins.

I just recently went through a breakup. We had been together for two years.

It is never easy. No one said it was.

And no, this isn't a poem. I'm not bitching. I am here to write about my experience and how I've grown. This blog addresses inner growth, new adventures, sometimes hardship and emotional suffering, and finding my place in the crazy world of college.

Some information about myself:
I am a senior. My major is International Affairs (though I've never been super involved and stoked about it). I have traveled to Cuba, Lebanon, Sweden, the Netherlands and Germany. I consider myself a well-rounded person, however there are certainly aspects that need improvement. I enjoy creative activities that give me some sort of outlet (i.e. biking, drawing, playing Mandolin, etc.). I am thankful that I have become a more honest person over the years. And I am surrounded by amazing friends and family, of whom I all adore.

This past weekend, I realized two things about myself that I need to change in the near future: 1. Accepting that I am not overweight like I have always thought I have been, and 2. Stop needing attention.

There. I said it. Now I can breathe again. 

My goal for this blog is to show people how they can rediscover themselves, if need be. And to help myself through helping others, whether its through creative inspiration, emotional pep talks or just straight up bitching. Whatever works. Tell me your thoughts. I want to know your obstacles, as well as what you do to cope with it. It's a two-way street.

Thank you.

Sincerely,
Darrah