After, admittedly, a terrible day – I was finally brought to my senses by a combination of factors. I have a dynamic duo in my life that, with their powers combined, I'm powerless to remain sad around. The love of my life Mason, and Stephanie, my sister through cyber-blood. My sister asks how my day's going, I tell her “awful” – the same time I'm in the car riding with Mason – and I tell them at the same time, in different ways, the various ways in which my life rode to Hell in a hand basket. It goes something like this: I have absolutely nothing to be sad about, nothing to be disappointed about, and everything to be thankful for, and yet—I'm overwhelmed with sadness and insecurity. I feel as though I have no friends (I know a few are out there), and yet no desire to “acquire” more. I don't have time for the few I do claim. I felt as if my writing was suddenly awful, that each time I learn something new in school, I look back at my former work with disdain, or think “Everyone who reads my stories must be laughing at me! How dare I call myself a writer!” Don't even get me started on how my Geography class is making me feel--
To this self-pity storm, my sister says: “You CAN write, you hussie.” And, for the first time all day, I laughed. Mason continued to drive, intent on getting me to an office supply store so I don't have a melt down over not having binder clips or sharpie pens (true story, it was just that kind of day).
At the office supply store (Office Depot) we found something unexpected (all the while I'm messaging Stephanie, telling her about my day, and she's encouraging me and reminding me that I am loved). They make some amazing thing called “decorative tape” and “washi tape.” It's basically the most adorable thing ever and I can use it on whatever I want. Also, it was on sale, so the “buy 2 get 2 free” ended up being a steal for the day.
Glitter teal, robots and assorted cute cats—and a nice new selection of binder clips for my pesky homework.
I finally finished my conversation(s) with Stephanie and Mason and decided to try a new place to eat for dinner. We decided to be daring, to try cuisine we'd never had much experience with—Indian food. I have a lurking dislike for the smell of curry powder, but I was already in such a mood, I didn't care.
Our waiter was a handsome, tall man with a great attitude. The building was small but modern, with white décor, decorative lamps and paisley wallpaper. Upbeat music played in the background. We told the waiter that we'd never actually had Indian food before, and he was kind enough to point out a few things on the menu that were popular for first time diners.
I ordered the Tikka Marsala with chicken, and asked that the chicken be sliced smaller than usual. My waiter was kind and accepted my request. Mason ordered a Chicken Wrap with vegetables (cabbage, lettuce, onions, green peppers, chicken), wrapped in something called “naan bread.” Something akin to a pita, but with more herbs.
I had a pretty emotional day (see previous blog entry) – so I'll blame my reaction on a chemical imbalance – but I nearly started to cry when I tasted my dinner because it was that good. I had never known a tomato sauce could have so much flavor. The waiter had mentioned it was “flavorful,” but I assumed it was just the sales pitch—no, no, it was absolutely true. The chicken was juicy, the rice had a lovely cilantro and saffron flavor, so delicate. Even the metal serving dish was beautiful. If I could eat nothing else for the rest of my life, I may choose Tikka Marsala.
After my conversations, I was able to realize that—yes, I'm allowed to feel lonely and profoundly sad, as long as I don't stay that way. As an artist and a creative individual, I'm inherently programmed to never be “truly” happy (and there's no such thing), but some days and weeks and months are better than others. I've been very “good” lately and today just marked a tipping point where I had to take a long, blubbering look at myself and realize: I can write, I can create things I am proud of, and if I don't do that for long periods of time—it takes a toll. I am an author, damn it, and I must write. Even if that writing means an angry, frothing blog—and then, a few hours later, an apologetic one—that's better than not writing. Yes, I have a ton of homework to do, and guess what... it'll still be there tomorrow. Today, I realized that even if I consider one person to be my best friend and one to be the love of my life—and, of course I include my parents/grand parents/cat and a few others (my third-mother); that's really all that I need. A select few to answer my plea for help—to call me a hussie, or buy me a coffee or give me a hug—and send me on my way.
At the end of the day—I am grateful for everything I have, and do not have, in my life. Today I'm a little more grateful than other days for my boyfriend, my best friend, decorative tape and Indian food.
I also got 3 button orders at the end of the night which means I'll be busier than usual—and being able to make a little money on the side doing something I enjoy is a wonderful thing.