2.24.09

Super random post topic...ready?
Religion.

Since the tender young age of 16 I have found myself in many controversial, thought-provoking discussions with friends (and sometimes strangers) about this topic. Religion. What is my religion? Well, I suppose I don't believe in religion.

Let me just interject by saying that while my personal beliefs fall along the lines of thinking religion is bullshit, I still respect those that choose to think otherwise.

Religion is a set of beliefs that are meant to guide us toward being a better person with the ultimate goal of some type of satisfactory ending in the "afterlife".
For some this may mean reincarnation, for others the ever-promising final location of heaven. Listening to the wise words in, for example, the Bible, are meant to lead its followers along a blissful and morally solid path toward eternal happiness.

After years of internal reflection and many many essays on the "meaning of life," I've come to the educated conclusion that the main question religion is looking to answer is "what is the point of life?" Ultimately, using Christianity as an example, the goal is to end up in heaven. Consequently, everything you do in life, all the choices you make, are in one way or another tied to that ultimate goal of ending up in heaven.

Personally, I don't believe in the concept of heaven/hell, and I don't believe that I need a book (the Bible), which is historically inaccurate and simply a compilation of anecdotes and thought provoking stories, to tell me how to live my life and be a good person. So, cutting out the obvious goal of going to heaven as the point of life, what is left? What is the point of life?

Sadly, there seems to not really be one. We are simply living out the circle of life, which always, undeniably, ends in death. So if there is no ultimate point to all this heartache, hard work, sadness, chaotic happiness, and struggle, why do we put up with it? Why do we even try?
After years of going through this thought process trying to look for an answer, I've come to the simple conclusion that the point of life is oddly just to live life.

That's what we were put here to do -- live life.
Using that logic, who am I to say that the way others choose to live their lives is wrong or inaccurate, and who are they do disagree with my choices? If I was simply put on this earth to live my life, and to live my short, short life to the fucking fullest, how can I limit my happiness to what a group of people, thousands of years ago (or even today) tell me is acceptable.

So how do I choose to live my life?
I choose to enrich it as much as possible by securing myself a stable future with enough money to allow myself to have freedom and fun. By surrounding myself with people that make my heart want to burst with happiness, and leaving those that drag me down way far behind. Life is too short to put up with the sadness and the people who don't respect or deserve who you are as a person. I respect and enjoy every single emotion that I have ever felt, and every single experience that I have ever experienced. Every love, every heartbreak, every tragedy, and every fit of laughter.
I choose to keep my head held high, but occasionally let my heart sink down low. I want to feel every highest high and graze the bottom of the lows (which I probably already have).
I want those summer afternoons where nothing can shake the pure, lustful, youthful, exuberance, and I'll sadly yet fondly remember all the nights of crying myself to sleep, wishing I would never wake up again. I want these emotions and everything in between, because if nothing else, living life means living through an infinite amount of emotions.
I fill my brain with knowledge of every kind - academic, emotional, and random knowledge that really has no category.
I want everything and anything, and as far as I'm concerned any experience that you are faced with, be it negative or positive shouldn't go unexperienced.
Ultimately, my goal is to be able to say, when my last moment on life is up, that I truly lived my life.


I'm going to take this religion conversation 1 step further and say that religion is like drugs. It's a escape. An escape from the questions "Why?" and "What's the point?"

Without an answer these questions can be very dooming and depressing.
Religion can provide you with an answer that is easy to blindly accept and live your life for.
Similarly, I believe that by taking drugs, especially hallucinogenic drugs, you are looking for an answer to those questions. You are stepping out of the true reality and letting your mind go to a place where it doesn't have to come up with its own answer.
It is often when people don't have the answers, or find themselves in a hopeless situation that they turn to drugs. Or religion. People search for explanations and some type of comfort, and both drugs and religion can provide this escape.
I've always heard people talk about how taking acid or tripping hard on shrooms created for them an eye-opening experience that changed their perspective on life.

Personally, I enjoy my perspective on life, so perhaps that is why i've never ventured to the avenue of hallucinogens, or religion.

At the end of the day, I believe in making my own decisions and choices, and truly living my own experiences and truly living my own life.

That's my answer.

2.20.09

As I've mentioned before, Samantha's quote from SATC "I love you, but I love me more" is, in my humble opinion, one of the best quotes ever (right up there with he's just not that into you). Given everything that has happened in my life thus far, I've come to realize that more often than not i end up letting myself love other people more than myself. In my most recent relationship I managed to ignore or even enjoy ass of his flaws. I gave everything to him, and I know that I truly made his life better. I always joked around saying that while I was improving his life, he was dragging me down -- I realize now it's not that funny.

Despite the fact that I didn't get everything that I deeply wanted or even deserved from the relationship, I kept giving and giving and loving him. I love him more than I was loving myself.

At the end of the day, this is not okay. I think I'm finally starting to realize that I need to follow Samantha's advice and actually allow myself to love myself the most. More than any boy that temporarily steals my heart and generosity, and more than any relationship that I find comfort in. I need to watch my own back and remember that I and what I really want is important.

I need to love myself. And I need to find someone who can love me as much as, if not more than I do.

It's hard to love myself right now though as I am far from grasping the concept of what is best for me. My heart breaks every time I think about what I've lost, and tears still well in the corners of my eyes as I remember our first kiss. My insides still cringe when I relive the hurtful things he's done, and my mind races as I create alternate endings to our dreadful situation. I want to reach out to him, but push him away at the same time. I want to take back everything that I gave up for him, and sometimes I even wish I could take back that first kiss.

And sometimes, I just want to punch him in the face and tell him how dumb and irresponsible he is. Tell him how he's never going to do anything with his life and will just end up working for his dad at Chevron. Tell him that until he grows the fuck up and starts to act his age he will never find anyone that will treat him as well as I did. I really just want to know that he knows that I was amazing. He told me I was, but I want him to remember and hate the fact that I'm not there to be amazing to him anymore.

I'm officially going to start to love myself more than him. more than all the people who don't appreciate me and don't reciprocate the respect and devotion that I bring to a relationship/friendship.

It's fucking hard, but I love myself the most.
The End.

2.17.09

Given the recent circumstances i don't even know how to start this post.

I suppose I'll start by discussing the topic of trust. It's definitely become a concept that is hard for people to fully grasp. It typically either ends up in one of two directions -- either you trust too much, or you don't trust at all. And for some reason it always seems to end up that you trust the wrong people in the wrong ways.
When this happens, people get hurt. And when people get hurt, their habits of trusting people are greatly altered.

Personally I've gotten fucked over way too many times, and consequently i feel that I typically either trust way too easily or not at all. With guys that are actually trustworthy and caring, I sabotage any type of actual trusting bond before it can even be completely formed. But regardless of whether or not I seem to trust in a relationship or not, i really really do. way too much. Whenever I care about someone (even if i don't allow myself to care 100%) i give my all to that relationship. I will do anything and everything at the drop of a hat.

Sometimes this creates friendships that I honestly believe will last a lifetime, and other times it turns out to completely and utterly bite me in the ass.

All the times of getting bitten in the ass by trust (or lack there of) has really caused to not even believe in trust. Our society has progressed into something that pushes aside trust for things such as profit, fame, or any other personal gain. That basic human bond that is trust has been corrupted and devalued to a point where I fear it's becoming extinct. Few completely trust, and of those that do, the majority end up in excruciating emotional pain.


So with the minimal amount of trust left in this world it's hard to really find true relationships to rely on. With everything that happened this weekend I definitely had my eyes opened a bit to who and what i really value in my life.

The next question that entered my troubled and confused mind was what do you do when someone that just recently exited your life is someone that you really want in it? What do you do when that person means so much to you, but could potentially really hurt you and make you trust even less? Do i put out the effort to get them back in my life for the next few months before I take off to Europe, or do I just let them go in order to try and sustain my personal emotional barrier.

I really don't know.
And it kills me.

You Can Do Better. 2.10.09

first off, i'm a bit drunk. Just had an excellent dinner at Unicorn and then drinks at the Clift. fabulous. love the single city life.

Earlier I was showering and started thinking about life - particularly men. It's funny, after T brought up the fact that he cries about not being with her every time he showers I realized that is my only time of grief too. I can be fine all day, but there's something about the vulnerability and openness of a hot shower that reminds of the fact that he's not here. he's not in my life. he's never going to be in my life again. The only time I cry about him is when I shower. Weird.
I really do miss him though, but i know i'm better off without him (at least for now).

This brings me to the main point of this post. Whenever a girl breaks up with her man, sometimes even while they're still dating, you'll always hear their kind, loving and supportive friends eagerly expressing how "you can do better."

So why exactly is this trite phrase so eagerly thrown out there, and is it really true? How exactly can we define "better"? Well, in highschool, better often times meant that he could be richer, or more athletic, or more popular. These days it's more aimed toward the fact that for some reason we all deserve a man with a 6 figure salary (at least), a high-end car, amazing friends, good looks, decent family, and excellent connections.

But, as I've recently been hearing this from some of my closest friends, I've started to realize that this isn't what "better" means at all. No. At the end of the day, whenever someone tells you that you deserve better, what better really, truly, undeniably should mean is a man that loves you and treats you like he loves you. The best of the best, all material and superficial attributes aside, is a man that makes you know that you're the one, respects you, and gives to you and the relationship as much as you do. Someone can have all the lambos and black american express cards in the world, but if they don't treat you right, then you still deserve better.

I'd always thought he was perfect and that he was the best I could do right now - until i realized what the best truly was. It's not his family, potential inheritance, or club connections, but rather whether or not he realizes how amazing I am.

The day I find a person that thinks that I'm as amazing as I think they are, is the day that my friends can, and will, stop telling me that I can do better.

2.8.09

May I repeat, one more time, that I truly don't believe that it's worth letting your emotional guard down and actually liking/loving people. It's really not.

I already have so much emotional baggage, and no matter how well I deal with it and pack it away nice and tight, it's still there. With every new relationship, more and more emotional baggage is packed in me, and often times I don't even notice it adding up until it's too late and it all explodes. As A said, there's no more room! we're completely full of e.b. (emotional baggage) so how are we expected to let our inherent emotional guards down and accept that more e.b. will be added to our lives? there's no room! How can we can open ourselves up knowing that if more e.b. is added there's a high probability that we will reach our breaking point.

Thus, as a true SAM, I must say that i've reverted back to my love of pure sex. no love. no long term infatuation. just sex and temporary, fleeting, fun emotions. For example, last night was my first truly 100% single, e.b. free weekend in a while. And trust me, I lived up to my SAM title. I hooked up with 2 boys, neither of which i have any true intention of pursuing. The second guy i hooked up with reminded me of all the things i didn't miss about mohammed. it was awesome. i was the front spoon the entire night, and it was all about me. He reminded me of everything i love about one night stands and no strings attached hooking up.

However, the one thing that made me sad about last night was feeling the difference between what last night was and what the past 6 months have been with my x. Remembering what it's like to sleep next to someone all night and truly loooove hooking up with them. Last night I had no desire to give him head - which has always been my favorite thing to do with my X.

As I woke up this morning with a splitting migraine from the massive amounts of cocktails and patron I ingested last night, I had a mix of emotions. Half of me felt heartbroken and a piercing longing for that boy i loved, whereas the other half of me loved having my happiness in my own hands for once. There was no phone call that wasn't received or ignored text messages to upset me, and how much I wanted from M was totally in my control.


Furthermore, as I laid in bed last night with max watching slumdog millionaire, i drunkenly started discussing my love for Tolstoy, Fightclub, and divulged the entire history of me and mohammed. (these topics are very typical of a drunken me)
As I tried to fall asleep, hearing him tell me that one day mohammed would undeniably realize what he missed out on put an instant smile on my face. This smile was only intensified when he proceeded to tell me that my X was an idiot to not appreciate me. Isn't that what every girl wants to hear? It's one thing when it's coming from your girlfriends, but when it comes from a decently attractive and successful man, you really believe it.

Overall, I would just say that maybe Samantha did have it right all along. It's okay to love someone else, but at the end of the day you have to love yourself more. And sometimes, loving yourself means, sadly, not allowing yourself to love anyone else.

2.3.09

Apparently the entire time I was a complete mess over potentially losing one of my best friends and pseudo boyfriend, he didn't really think anything would be that different. This was made clear to me when I showed up at his apartment monday afternoon only to have him try and kiss me hello. whether this attempted kiss was aimed at my cheek or mouth i'm not aware, seeing as i quickly deflected the potential kiss by turning my head and doing an awkward hug instead.

What proceeded was an awkward, forced conversation that really accomplished nothing. There are so many questions lingering in my head that I should have asked. So many more things I could have told him to make him understand -- but no. So far the only two people i've loved i've lost over a lack of communication. I've definitely improved, and I think this relationship helped a lot, so hopefully third time will be a charm.
But for now, communication is not my strong suite, so we left the balcony overlooking the golden gate bridge and with a confused, unfilled hole in my heart i stepped back into an apartment that will never feel welcoming again.

However, the ridiculousness that was this encounter did not end there. We made our way to the marina to get some lunch. As I desperately searched the radio stations for a decent song that could drown out the awkwardness of this drive, I realized I was failing miserably. Not even the tantalizing beats of a classic 50 cent melody could make me any less aware of the fact that I hadn't said one word since we'd left his street.

If that wasn't awkward enough, try sitting across the table from someone you so horribly want to hate, but undeniably will always love. Refusing to look him in the eye out of sheer embarrassment that I let my heart break because of something so avoidable (avoidable only in hindsight), I break the silence with stiff questions regarding class schedules and the weather.
My diet coke had never tasted so bland, my greek salad so flavorless...my life just felt shameful and empty.
He paid.
We left.

The silent walk down Chestnut left me thinking about all those fleeting moments of our lunch that were so nauseatingly similar to how it used to be. So i told him how it was going to be hard to not talk to him every single day. This fact apparently surprised him, and hearing him sadly utter the words "you don't want to talk to me?" will forever rebreak my heart. Apparently it wasn't over? I had completely overreacted? I thought this had been what he had wanted...to be completely free -- un-tied-down, if you will. As he put his arm around me and told me we were always going to be best friends, i was filled with regret, love, embarrassment, and a strong desire to just punch him in the face.
As his arm dropped i reminded myself that my reaction to his actions was not uncalled for, and i had every right to not want to be his best friend right now.

Making it back to the car with merely 1 minute left on the parking meter, I couldn't help but worry if our time was up as well. Sitting in my car, he placed his hand out, as he's always done, for me to hold it. I was in shock. I stared...at first at his hand, and then straight in his eyes. Did this immature boy, who had just told me that he didn't want to feel tied down really expect me to put my hand in his like nothing was different? I shook my head, and hoped that he saw how much I hurt because of him. He asked, yet again, if I was mad. But how could I explain? He wouldn't understand, for the 20th time.

Well, I tried. I started to speak, to explain exactly why I wasn't my usual lovey-dovey self, only to be interrupted by his phone ringing.

The drive back to school was silent, with brief breaks of frivolous, uninteresting comments. I pull over...don't even put the car in park. His hand reaches out again. That god damn hand, it may as well have been slapping me in the face. But this time, i placed my hand in his, our fingers linked, and all of our memories flashed in my mind. It was too much. I pulled back. He suggested we should hang out, and I immediately said that I wouldn't be calling him. He couldn't look at me, he got out, i reminded him to get his backpack. He still wouldn't look me in the eyes, and mumbled the word "bye."

This broke my heart even more.
Did I really just let it end? Did I? Isn't that the farthest thing from what I wanted?
The strange thing about me, and potentially all people, is that when you put that emotional guard back up, your actions don't make sense. I immediately regretted not coming to a more solid conclusion as to what the fuck we were, or how the hell I felt, and after consulting potential courses of action with a dear friend of mine, I realized I needed him in my life. Despite the horribly disgusting apartment, lack of consideration, unmotivated friends, and overall lack of follow through, i totally, utterly, and completely need him in my life.

I ended up texting him later telling him, again, that i wasn't mad, and that i did, in fact, want to hang out.
we've yet to do that. and i still don't know if it's the best idea.

i still miss him.

and i really miss us. whatever us actually was.

2.2.09

Everyone, on some level or another, have over the years put in place some version of an emotional guard. Some people let that guard down pretty fast, whereas with others it can take months and months - the main fear being that once that guard is down you will get hurt.


this weekend proved this fear of mine to be correct.


The second I convinced myself that it would be okay to like him...to really just let myself give 100% of my heart to the relationship, i get my heart handed right back to me with a giant wound in it.
While my boy and I were never officially dating, which was totally fine with me, we definitely acted like it. I had that alluring freedom of being single, with a sweet, sexy man to come home to every night for some good weed, sex, and an all night cuddle. He was my best friend and my lover, and I had no desire to confine him to the label of my boyfriend.

Despite the freedom that I let reside in our questionable relationship, he managed to still feel tied down - how exactly, i'm not sure.

Then came that awful awful thursday night, and that text message that sent me into a messy demise for the rest of the weekend. I won't tell you what it said because it will undoubtedly send me into a fit of tears, but i will say this: he managed to be respectful and unknowingly heartbreaking in under ten words.
what followed was a 20 minute phone conversation that has echoed in my mind the past 3 and a half days - one that left my future with my best friend hazy, at best. I didn't handle it in the best way possible, but what was i supposed to do? i was a previously emotionally battered girl who had finally let herself put all the bullshit aside and truly like someone, and as soon as i saw that hurt and heartache seeping back into my life i panicked. i went into defense mode.

he obviously had no idea how much i liked him, and offered that "we could date.." but the lack of enthusiasm almost made it sound more like an insult than a peace offering.

Later thursday evening, or perhaps i should say early friday morning, he spent a considerable amount of time on the phone with my best friend (while i was busy puking in the bathroom) discussing the situation. Behaving somewhat maturely (while drunkenly scarfing down a piece of pizza, mind you) he told K that him and i needed to talk. Apparently i don't communicate, which is the main reason this all fell apart so retardedly.

I don't want to communicate.
I want things to be how they were.
Blissfully ignorant and desperately in love.


So we made plans to talk...those plans fell through. New plans were made...no phone call. what do i do now? Do i simply turn my back on the best semester of my college career and lose yet another best friend? Or should I push for a reconciliation, or at least a conversation where some communication may lead to some closure for both parties involved?

All i know is that almost 4 days later I sit here with an empty heart. Last thing i remember before falling asleep last night? Crying. First thing i did when i woke up this morning? Cried.

I miss him.

The BlowJob Lowdown

Firstly I’d like to say I am not Feminist or a lesbian, if you know me then you know I like me some men maybe even addicted to them( especially the chocolate ones and sometimes even white boys suffice my craving). Anyways my point is , I’m nice girl but when it comes to men , I’ve been called a bitch, a slut, insane, crazy, too emotional, too lovey ..the list goes on. This note is just a simple rant from a girl who has been hurt one too many times. I’ve learned over the years of pain to turn my disappointment into something slightly amusing and comical. Big surprise people seem to feed off of my scandaless stories and broken heart tales. Secondly this is not meant to offend anyone nor does it apply to all men (just most).
Listening to “Put It in My Mouth “by Akinyele, I see no better time than now to discuss Oral Sex. . . A good blowjob and the guys under a spell, his eyes roll back in his head, his mouth might open as his breathing becomes more intense until a nice white shower sprays whoever in the way. An amazing blowjob could lead to the guy just throwing out words like“I Love you.” Silly girls might believe these words but remember ladies blowjobs can intoxicate men. While under the influence of getting “dome”, men might say things they don’t mean and completely forget them after. How convenient, right? When a girl knows how to suck a dick without choking she might be referred to as a “Beezy/Bitch/Hoe (...etc) with DSL (dick sucking lips). However when a girl doesn’t understand this art, men are not afraid to spread the word to friends, roommates, co-workers, cousins, you better believe whoever he knows will soon know. Some girls might see giving head as better or less “slutty” then sex, and offer them off like some mints they just found at the bottom of their purse. Please, with sex at least there’s two people getting pleasure. The girls who just handout blowjobs and don’t really know their partner, obviously don’t understand that after you suck his dick and he busts he probably won’t care about pleasing you. Most Men tend to hate performing oral and stick to just receiving. This might be due to the nasty rumor that every vagina smells like tuna or the fact that for the majority men are lazy and selfish, in either case it’s rare for a guy to eat out a girl they don’t know too well or truly like. Even if he decides to go down , for some reason busting a nut can be quite exhausting for men and more than likely he won’t put much effort into it if he’s already down with his orgasm . If you’re a lady with some DSL and want pleasure but still must suck, make him go down first. If you just want pleasure for the both try good old fashioned Sex. The truth is a one night stand sounds a little better than having to say “Oh I gave him head one time… (And never heard from him again)” . Again with a one night stand at least you know his goods and are able to critique him as well, instead of just being the DSL Beezy or the cock choking slut. You can brag to your girlfriends about how you did it in every position, how good it felt or spread rumors about how “you couldn’t even feel his pencil thin cock.” I’ll end this rant with something a bit more serious , I’m not against blowjobs.Yet there’s something about putting your mouth on such a disgusting part of the body licking sucking blowing and pretending that it’s so great that I find a tad bit morally wrong. Blow Jobs have lead to too much disrespect from men for me to frivolously give them away, and so far in my life I have only ever enjoyed giving head to one guy. When you really like the guy it gets you off to know he’s getting off, but otherwise giving head is just a waste of spit time and effort for the girl.

1.29.08 - destined to be a sam forever....

i don't understand men. never will.

is it really worth truly liking someone? Of course it can be amazing. When it's good, there's no better feeling in the world. Waking up next to the person you love, whether you're the back spoon or the front spoon, is undeniably one of the best feelings ever.

but for all the good times, there will also be bad times. and these bad times really really suck balls..and not in a good way. the contradictions and lack of sensibility are endless, and it really makes me question if it's ever going to be worth it?

is it?

We Are The SAMs

Sam. Samantha Jones. For many women across the world, this Sex and the City name inspires images of confidence, insatiable sex drive, attractive men, power, and independence. For me and my two best friends, the term SAM came to mean much, much more.

It started with a simple night in the hot tub at Alex's, where we discussed our similarity to and love for the Samantha character in Sex and the City. I always truly believed that I would, in 20 or 30 years, find myself in a position in life very similar to that of Sam. The idea of marriage or serious commitment has always rubbed me in the wrong way, and I truly felt that I would never be the type of person that belonged in a relationship.
C and A steadily agreed, and even went so far as to say that we could sometimes be...well...in some people's opinions a little slutty. We were obviously all the Samantha's in the Sex and the City cast of our lives. Furthermore, we initially included our dear friend Steven in this SAM group, and consequently realized that Sam also conveniently stood for Sluts And Man (C, A, and myself being the sluts, and S, naturally, our man). And thus, the SAMs were created, and here on this blog you will find our stories.

xoxo
The SAMs.