‘Treat Yo Self 2014’

I can only explain the concept of ‘Treat Yo Self’ by showing you where it originates from in this 43 second video clip from the show Parks and Recreation.  (Sorry it’s a bad copy)  It’s the only one I could find on youtube.

One of my friends decided they were going to do a ‘treat yo self’ once a month.  And I thought, why don’t I try that!?  So yesterday, after a long week I took myself to go see a movie.  Seeing movies alone is my thing.  I see movies with my friends but I also enjoy seeing them alone.  It’s an experience in itself, and I think it’s very enjoyable.  I’ve been doing this since the end of high school.  Living down the street from two independent theaters in college encouraged this habit a lot.  I could go to the movies whenever  I wanted to and for a discounted price.  But here, it costs $9 to see a matinee! and exponentially more than that to see a film at night.  I’d been wanting to see this film entitled ‘Her’ by Spike Jonze.  Then last week my best friend texted me from out of country and said “you gotta go see this.  It’s your kind of movie and you’re going to love it.”  So this was my treat yo self for the month!  A little movie and some snacks.

Spike Jonze, the director, I have got to say killed it.  (Meaning he did a wonderful job).  From soundtrack to cinematography to acting and set. A +++  This movie is a great commentary on loneliness and the digital age, as well as how we communicate with one another.  So if I might get academic on you my three talking points for this post would be.

1.) go see Her

2.) Take the time out to ‘Treat yo self’ once in a while whether it involves splurging what little money you have (me) or not spending any money at all or taking a road trip/ drive.  You deserve it.

3.) I know I watch too much TV but Parks and Recreation is probably one of the best shows out there so I’d watch it if I were you!

xo, Skinnings

My ‘open relationship’ inner monologue

Recently a friend and I were discussing open relationships and proposed the idea of one to me.  My simple answer was ‘different strokes for different folks however, not a stroke for me’.  Then I started thinking about it and realized I had a lot more ‘feels’ resulting in the below inner monologue.

My answer to that question:

“I mean, I don’t know an open relationship.  It could be fun? Oh no, what am I thinking?  What I really want is for someone to want me in a dramatic opera sort of way.  The kind of person who is willing to frolic around for half the show in a costume that’s a little too tight in the crotch and a dagger to the shoulder. To know I’m lovable or likeable worth another person’s time at the end of the day.  I’m really good at baking and I wear deodorant ok?  I mean…on occasion I do.  Isn’t that enough for other people?  Besides all that I can be good at taking emotional photos of cats.  My hugs are more than passable.  Hey, I’ll spare you the details but how many more boobs does a person need when my middle name is ‘chesty’? I mean jeeze, I feel like I’m writing an add for myself.  It’s nice to have someone echo that back to you sometimes.  Someone that says, “HEY I SEE YOU. I RECOGNIZE YOUR COMMITMENT to taking emotional photos of cats and being just responsible enough to wear deodorant.  HEY GIRL, HEY. You’re alright.  Your hugs are good.  You make good big and little spoon and your chesty? It’s the bestie.  Also, I hear you on the whole STD thing.  I wont fill you with AIDS or other terrible  incurable diseases that make people cry at night. (insert herpes here)”  It’s ok if you’re not that person- the one who recognizes I am a good person because sometimes I have the human decency to take a hot shower.  I tell you what, I’m not opposed to an open relationship.  I’ve had several with my hands, with my words, with my hugs…with my damn open door cuddle policy.  And my darling, isn’t there nothing more naked than our words?’

Tea Fascism at its finest

What kind of tea fascist would I be if I didn’t post this?:

Updates & Posts I’m working on & information you didn’t ask for.

Hey everyone!  What’s new?  I’m just about to fall into bed.  But I’ve got a new internship, I’m working nights, volunteering, and studying during the day.  I’ve been exercising a little bit (by that I mean half-hearted crunches and thinking about doing yoga posses) .  This was my first full week juggling all this stuff + getting ready for  a little trip in late February.    I’ve taken to planning my lunches beforehand, morning coffee, and outfits for the week.  In any case I’ve been neglecting my duties as a cat co-parent (long story) and failing to return snail mail letters.  Haven’t seen my surrogate family  in over a week!!!  But you’ll be happy to know I’m working on two new blog posts that might make their debut by the end of the week. Because that’s what you’re waiting for: my blog post, right?

Until then stay cold! (Says absolutely no one)

-Love, Skinnings.

A memorable hand of Cards Against Humanity

Films you should watch… “The Grand Budapest Hotel” coming to the USA March 7, 2014

Books you should read…

Anything by David Sedaris including but not limited to his newest book of essays Let’s Explore Diabetes with Owls”.

Why should you take advice from me? Because I’m like any old gal, having panic attacks in public, putting my bra on one cup at a time, eating hot dogs for breakfast.

If you want to laugh out loud I’d read Mr. Sedaris!

10 Things you can expect from me & this web interface aka my blog

What you can expect:

1.) Disappointment, regret, and feelings of abandonment.  (Like the lyrics from a Death Cab for Cutie song) Let me be 115% honest with you.  Every blog has a time in its life when the poster just stops posting for a while without warning.  Example: I say you should look forward to a post about dogs in renaissance costumes that I’ll be posting next Tuesday at 8:20 pm.  Then I never make good on that promise and you don’t hear from me for three weeks.  I’m like a bad date that didn’t give you a call back.  Then when I do show up I’m hot and looking for cuddles without strings or I make a post with no context and a sob story.  Get used to it.  This is going to happen to you if you read my blog at some point.  And now you can’t say I didn’t give you fair warning. Thank me now for giving you topics to talk about in therapy. You’re welcome.

2.) Posts about crying at night or in general (seriously, does there have to be an occasion?) depression, anxiety, and OCD.  This includes general fear about what the future holds for me and high levels of depression about potential success and failure.

3.) Emotional photos of cats & photos of frighteningly good or disturbing Cards Against Humanity hands played.

4.) A fuck ton of ranting with spelling errors & random photos. Example: thoughts I have about tea that you never asked about but that I will tell you about anyway.

5.) Shameless talk of mustaches & gender-queerness (many ampersands included)

6.) Once a month or whenever I god damn please suggestions and reviews for: books you should read, blogs you should read, youtube videos you should watch, TV & Movies you should watch. This is a safe sen space for me to force my tastes on you and I don’t apologize.

7.) Essays of me pretending I’m the next David Sedaris.

8.) Me talking to you about being the child of Indian American immigrants and how hard it is to be brown.  (And how everyone thinks I’m Irish)

9.) Poetry by me & others.  Promotions of myself and my future chapbooks.  This includes a show and tell of my arts and crafts projects (Mainly mixed media, collage, and snail mail)

10.) Instructions about what to do during the zombie apocalypse.  Unless you don’t want to have a plan for what to do when the end is nigh… then you can just ignore those posts.

“And in the Beginning God said…

“Let there be light” of course! But, also “Let there be light and Kathy Ireland aerobic workout tapes from the late 80s”  I know this section of the bible Genesis 1 was totally overlooked at my Catholic school.  If I overlooked it I’m sure you did too! But seriously, Kathy Ireland’s workout tapes were a staple of my childhood.  My mom would pop her into the VCR (yes kids, we didn’t have a DVD player then!) a few times a week and follow along to her turquoise colored full body stirrup legging routine.  (I’d like to personally thank Kathy Ireland for helping me realize how queer I am). I like to think the first thing my mom did when she came to America besides enrolling for school was enrolling for a gym membership.  Since the 70s she’s been rocking out to aerobics and recalls taking my brother to class with her.  There he would give all the ladies a scathing rendition of “She’s A Man Eater” while imitating their dance moves.  To this day my mom not only takes herself to the gym but insists on my dad joining her.  Once she managed to get my dad to go to  a zumba class with her and he did so terribly the instructor asked my sister “Does he speak English?” To which my sister replied “Um, he is actually a lawyer” Needless to say dad was not invited to another class and joyously went back to swimming.

I’m not too crazy of a workout buff.  On occasion I’ll run a few miles or do some ab crunches on the floor of the gym while making loud breathing noises to signify to all predators “I AM SERIOUS -ly lame,”  But I guess the need for dance has stuck with me.  You know dance!? All kinds of dance- specifically that move where you pick one of your legs up and shake it behind your head like a ballerina on steroids with Tourette’s.  Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about.  We both know you know.

In college I picked up a once a week Zumba class, yoga, and pretend running.  What I learned is every Zumba class has the one or two token old uncle in the back.  This is an older gentleman who characteristically wears knee high socks and reebok sneakers.  I’ve tended to become buddies with these characters in the past because a car accident in early 2011 caused me to lose all my balance and much of my coordination.  The uncle(s) and I have bonded over our two second delays when it comes to dance moves.

After having graduated college and moved home a few months ago exercise, bad television, fear of the future, and a taxidermy dear hanging in the foyer have been my constants.  So when my mom suggested (meaning forced me to go to the gym with her) this past Wednesday I thought I’d try out her zumba class.   The class was a complete middle aged lady affair.  I recalled watching the Halloween ediiton when attendees showed up in full cat costume while dancing to Michael Jackson’s thriller.  But hey, at this point I think I have very little dignity to lose.  In these past few months most things that could go wrong have gone wrong.  I didn’t eat the cookies before the AIDS bake sale or anything.  But when life is at a standstill we dance right? Right.

I ended up next to an old asian uncle who I’d seen at the gym before.  He minded his own business until it was time for the partner dance segment of the class.  This is essentially like in grade school when you’re getting picked for volley ball teams or dodge ball or whatever sport.  And me and Asian uncle…didn’t get picked by anyone.  The dance began and he silently shook his shoulders at me as if to say “Why not, let’s give this a try?” We danced for a good seven minutes, at which time I came to the realization that I’m 22, I live at home, I’m sort of lonely, and I’m having a real moment with a human being I don’t know.  At the end he gave me the thumbs up and went back to his corner of the room. It’s sad, it’s funny, and like so many things in life you either sit out and watch everyone play or you embrace that your two best friends have become a photo of Frida Kahlo and an orange cat you’re allergic too.  There’s also the hope that in the near future a vibrator could provide some company. oh, and the old Asian man.  He could be a friend right?

We can’t forget him.

The Inaugural Address

Well it’s about nearly one in the morning and my good friend Apple just helped me set up this sweet little blog.  It’s really not that hard, except I’ve been using tumblr for the past six years so it’s just a different set up.  I’ve been thinking that I’d like to start a blog (this one) for humorous, depressing, and humorously depressing essays.  So! ladies, gentleman, and gentlequeers stay tuned for more!