New Day, New Rant: Relationships & Food?

Society Cafe, Oxford. 

I feel as though every time I write here, I need to preface it by saying "I know it's been a while." This, surely, shouldn't be the case every fucking time. It's not that the blog isn't on my mind, it is - I'd thought about posting something in Italy as I had waited for a train. Two months back. It's just tedious, you know, especially, now, since I no longer know what kind of content I want to post. So, for today's post, I am going to take Natalie Goldberg's sage advice, given to me by a sager Susannah Rickards, and just write. Without editing myself. (I mean I will still have to edit this blog post, for qualitative measure, but you get my point.)

  Currently, I am in the throes of the very last of my long summer holidays. I would say I am making the most of them, but that would be an outright lie. I am interning at a stock-brokering firm. Yes, I am, perhaps, the first literature student ever to have voluntarily stepped into such an institution. And yes, going there everyday reminds me just how glad I am that I read a cheesy book and mustered the courage to drop Business. And yes, I know I'll never earn anything close to what the people that work there earn. That is if I ever find employment. Let's not go there; I have enough anxiety already, what with being a twenty-one-year old having to live with her family for more than three weeks.

  Now, I shall preface the following by saying I love my family. I do. BUT they are such an absolute pain to be around (and by that I mean this has nothing to do with them and everything to do with me).   Call me crazy, but I really don't think I should have to tip-toe around my house if I decide I want to masticate cheese popcorn around 12 p.m. I am an adult, goddammit! I can do things like that. One of my friends sent me a picture of him eating ice-cream for breakfast. Because that is what adults do. And I don't need passive-aggressive looks telling me I have absolutely wasted my day lying in bed, watching The Mindy Project. I know I have. Actually, I chose to waste my day lying in bed, watching The Mindy Project. And you know what--I loved every sordid minute of it. I loved it so much that I contemplated never getting out of bed. This was also when I thought about dating someone. That way, I wouldn't need to get out of bed ever--they would just do all my work for me. My friend Kevin tells me that is not necessarily how relationships work. Why bother putting up with someone else's baggage then? I have enough of my own, which I am doing a fantastic job of circumventing. Ughh, imaging how much energy you would require to pretend that a second person's life is not falling apart and no, their mother leaving them when they were a child did not impact their adult relationships. It has been brought to my attention that this might be why parents aren't exactly concerned when I tell them about my dates. Do they think I cannot date people? Because I can. I promise you that much. They just need to get me pizza and coffee on a regular basis. Perhaps, ice-cream too. (Don't you dare bring me anything but Ben & Jerry's. I will throw anything else out the door, along with you. ) And tacos. A cheesecake here and there wouldn't hurt either. Oooh, I almost forgot chips. Which reminds me there is a bag of chips in my closet (I had to hide it from my resourceful brother) which needs eating.

Until next time. Hopefully, that's soon.

Love,
I am going to eat chips now.

We've Outgrown Each Other.

So I haven't posted in a while. There really wasn't much to write about. I know, my life's sad as fuck.

I just realised that no matter how much you love someone, or rather loved someone before, it makes absolutely no difference when you've moved on with your life. I meant, love someone as a friend loves a friend, rather than being in love with someone.

It's weird how the very things that at one point seemed to be the reason for an amazing friendship, seem to be exactly why a future relationship with that person may never work out. In the past few years I've realised that you outgrow people, even the ones you love. They may always hold a special place in your heart, but that is about it.
Which brings me to the question: Exactly how many people outgrew me?

It doesn't seem to bother me, I guess because now I understand that some people just aren't good for you, and that you HAVE to put yourself first.

The thing is I've become so accustomed to being able to judge who would be a good influence in my life, and most of the times I'm right, that every so often I want to be proved wrong. I want people to astonish me and make me realise that they are more, more than what I estimated them to be. Just like I wanted him to prove me wrong. I wanted him to bet on himself for once. Truth be said, I was almost sad as to what could have been, or rather what could be.

Sometimes I wonder if I'm just too scared of falling off of the edge. I think my problem is that I know exactly for what I'd be willing to risk everything, and sometimes I just push people away, or rather do not even end up giving them a chance, because I know beforehand that they just don't possess what I need, or rather desire from them. At first I just accepted it as a part of growing up, but to be honest I don't want to grow up. Sometimes I still want to be that 13 year old girl, who loved going to school because everyday there was something new to gossip about.