A mind is a terrible thing

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Threw you off there, didn’t I? You thought I might go for that old classic “A mind is a terrible thing to waste.” I mean, true, it is a terrible thing to waste, but I still stand by the fact that it is a terrible thing.

For anybody that overthinks things, underthinks things, poorly thinks things or just thinks things…it can be your worst enemy. What good is this chemically charged, mechanically perfect spongy little blob of goo if along with all the good comes the bad. Where is your choice in this?

Even when you think you have a choice, you don’t. Your brain is sitting there telling you to drink the last shot of tequila, but it’s also the one telling you not to approach the guy at the party. It’s telling you that you aren’t good enough, but also sometimes that you deserve better, it’s telling you to eat more, eat less, give more, take less, take more, give less. YOU don’t make these choices, that silly little brain of yours does, I mean, that makes you blameless really (fingers crossed I can sell that to a judge).

So, that brings me back, for all those losers people out there joyously loving every single day of life and thanking their lucky stars, well, let’s assume you are good sleepers and have plenty of serotonin. For those of you questioning your day in and day out, riding a little roller coaster of emotions as you take this trip called life…well, I feel for you, I really do. Right, wrong, up, down, left, right…I mean, how are you even supposed to keep right and right apart as they mean two different things!?! Now don’t even get me started on “write”, right?

Ok, that’s an unnecessary trip down the overthinking rabbit hole which more or less sums everything up, but you know what I mean. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t be reading this.

And that’s your choice. Or is it. Maybe nothing is your choice and you are at the mercy of your mind, which inexplicably is fueled by outside factors and internal reactions. Thinking about it is all too hard, as it requires thinking, as does every choice, action or reaction in life, hell even thinking about thinking requires thinking.

My brain hurts.

What would you do with a brain if you had one? – Dorthy Gale

The Ginga Ninja

 

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Feeling left behind

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It’s a feeling I’ve had on and off over the years. As have you, and him, and her. And probably my brother, and mom, maybe one of my good friends. Hell, maybe all of them. But, it’s not something openly discussed. Mental health and sexuality are now diagnosed, talked about, named and acknowledged, but feeling “less than” is something still in the closet, lurking behind closed doors, a Voldemort yet to be named.

Well, I’m sure we’ve all felt it. But, what do you do when you feel like others have moved on. And not always in a good way or bad way, but just in a different way? I’ve seen people move out of the city, buy houses, get married, have kids and in all orders imaginable and irreversible. Now, I’m not saying that everything works out for the best, some of those people move back or never even made it out in the first place, some are divorced, some lose their job, some lose their will, but what happens when you feel like you are standing still. I’ve got my cat, my plants, my goals to lose weight, but nothing else is on the horizon. Life just….is.

The funny thing is that is how I always wanted life to be. I didn’t want a neverending to do list of benchmarks and milestones, I just wanted to be okay in the everyday, in the mundane and in the now. And for the most part I am…but get a little case of the “wait for meeees” when my Instagram is littered with new dogs and babies, strollers and renos, wedding rings and honeymoons. There is nothing wrong with my life, but I feel a little left behind, not invited to the old gatherings, not cool enough for the new mom’s cool kids group, too old to party, too young to afternoon tea.

What to do? Do I wallow in my self-pity and think about all the friends I used to spend time with, do I fast-track my life plan to fit into my peers, do I think about all the times I tried to lead that pack with trips and adventures, new cities, new risks, new dates and new friends? I guess none of the above, because no amount of thinking, wishing, envying, or worrying is going to change the outcome. Tomorrow is what it will be and their plans are theirs, not mine. I can only hope that the world I fit into is the world that doesn’t forget to let me fit in. And the world that does forget, well I guess it’s not my world anymore.

“Normality is a paved road. It’s comfortable to walk, but no flowers grow on it.” – Vincent Van Gogh

Busy bees, not bumble bees

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Life has been so busy lately, like creepily busy, like 3 months of sickness, helping out a mat leave, moving, unpacking house guests and sleep studies busy. So I’ve been missing it’s true, but missing in action, or missing the action?

Do you ever look around and think you don’t do enough to keep yourself up? I mean, I’m surrounded by morning people. Well, honestly, as I leave later I’m probably surrounded by the exact oopppoosite of morning people, but once I get into the office my life choices are glaringly obvious. And, let me tell you, I am flawed.

So as I stare (glance?) at the girl doing her makeup on the subway, my first thought was, well at least I’m doing better than her…I mean, I did my makeup before I left. Sure, I left late, but I did it. But then, horrifically, I watched her. And I watched her and watched her and realized I never put love into my makeup like that. With a time commitment like that, no wonder she needs to do in on the subway! Take every minute you can get sweetheart.

I mean, the painstaking love to put 2 shades lighter foundation on your entire face, and I mean entire, every, last, inch of chin and forehead up to the hairline covered…not to mention the darker Mac powder that then goes on top…all leading to the lightly brushed bronzer just glazing the cheekbones…. I mean, if it takes that much work to look exactly how you started (she had beauty skin), no wonder I don’t take care of myself. Me? I slap some concealer on the red spots and bobs your uncle.

So, look sunken the natural way, or put about 4 layers and 3 hours into your face to come out looking exactly the same….you tell me. Seriously though, photoshop is the key.

There is no real beauty without some slight imperfection  – James Salter

The Ginga Ninja

 

 

 

If you are happy and you know it, just sit down

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Happiness.

What is happiness?

Happiness is a term that is now all-too-well-known by those trying to adult. Emphasis on (trying) and emphasis on the term is too-well-known, not necessarily the feeling. And to that point, when did happiness become the ever-elusive goal of life?

Today a friend said “…well, as long as you are happy”. I mean, bless her, I’m glad she wants good things for me, but happiness was never, nor could ever be a constant. It is not a way of life, it is a feeling, an emotion. With happiness comes sadness, anger, remorse, guilt, regret, annoyance, acceptance and a whole slew of feelings and angsty moments and elated adjectives. But, nobody says, “…well, as long as you are angry”, or “…at least you are annoyed”. These are not feelings that are celebrated, these are feelings that are pushed down, to be avoided, to be ignored, to be banished into the pit of feelings that should not be named.

But, here’s a secret folks, all of these feelings exist. They are all necessary, they are all needed and they are all unavoidable.

But, since when did happiness become what we lived for? What happened to family, friends, kids, pets, responsibility, fairness, justice….what happened to a good old reliable sense of obligation?

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying to stay in anything where you are (dare I say it), unhappy. Or to better expand on it, confused, lost, scared, indifferent, depressed or resentful. But, I am saying there are gonna be some not-so-good times. Some might be iffy, some might be only okay, some may be just alright and only at a certain hour, or only on a certain day. I don’t think the key to happiness is happiness, I think the key to happiness is being happy with being content.

So, as long as you are content, I’ll be happy.happy

The Ginga Ninja

 

The Boogie Man or Boogie Mind

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The night seems so much longer

The sky so much darker

The world so much lonelier

When the sun has finally set

The problems seem so much bigger

The worries so much deeper

The fears so much more real

When the sun has finally set

Okay, okay, I’m not a poet. I’ve really never been one, particularly in the non-rhyming category, but there is something about poetry and lyrics, and making them up on the spot that carries a certain charm. It’s fun, it’s funny, it’s sad, it’s desperate. It is whatever it is to whoever is reading it. Art, writing, music, they are subjective things. And though my serious attempts at poetry aren’t as cool as my remakes of’ “T’was the Night Before Christmas” http://www.thegingergirlchronicles.wordpress.com/2012/12/30/twas-a-modern-day-christmas/ you still gotta give a girl a cookie for trying.

The real reason I am writing isn’t to share my simple poetry or pump  my own articles, but to dwell on the empty. Many nights in my paltry little life I have stared into the abyss. I have wondered about why we are here, I have questioned what my life holds, and I have fought against the ache. The weird ache you get at night, where you don’t know what’s wrong, but something maybe is. Maybe it’s simply the breeze, the dark, the open window, the October nights, or maybe it’s night that brings out the worst and best in us.

Night can bring out your deepest darkest fears. It can lead you to do unspeakable things, and think unthinkable thoughts…it can lead you to truly believe you are alone, that tomorrow won’t come and that the night seems so long (enter song lyrics anytime). But, night is also when inspiration strikes. It is when the crazy get brilliant, the genius get sane and the ordinary become, for a fleeting moment…extraordinary. It is when night owls thrive and the creative shine, it is when writers write, singers sing, and dancers dance. Its when the interesting, the artsy, the eccentric and the daring make the world their own. They belong to the night, and frankly, the night belongs to them.

But, all that said, what hit me tonight, was the sheer amount of nights I sat in my tub, and thought deep thoughts. Wondered if I would fall in love, I would find my calling, I would live alone, I would bring life, I would choose lonely. All those nights, those crazy nights (cue 1970’s songs again), there was an empty. A wonder, an unknown, a feeling unexplained, a thought misunderstood. The empty.

So, tonight had me wondering, why do all our fears come out at night?

The Ginga Ninja

The Curse of the Dreamer

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Take a deep breath and don’t panic my girl
There is little to control in this crazy old world
You think and you plan and envision all day
You make up scenarios where it does go your way
(What is your way?)
(What would you say?)                                                                                                                                                     What could truly ever make it your day?                                                                                                                                   If you could even get it, what would it be
Would it be freedom, stability, kids or just we
Do you want a house, a pool, a dog and a cat
Or maybe a jet, a whiskey and designer brimmed hat
What really matters, money and cars
Or loved ones, liked ones and those far away stars
Is there a right and a wrong to your entire life
A definitive moment, pure man and wife
Do your actions always determine your end                                                                                                                             Or in your own story, can you be villain and friend                                                                                                               Inherently evil, deliriously mad, endearingly simple, to the bone just plain bad
Are these all just faces, all feelings we show
What’s the real outcome, what’s the real low
Everybody can say it, anybody can think                                                                                                                                   I should be writing my plan on the edge of this brink
(But what if I sink?)
(What if I blink?)
What if I yawn and my breath, it might stink?
So you dreamers go lie awake late at night
Try not to think, try not to fright
Life it is scary, life it is hard
It can also be wondrous if you play the right card
The deck it is big and so hard to predict                                                                   There are times you’re winning and times kid, you’re licked
But try as you might to stay out of your mind                                                           Try your best to be honest, your best to be kind                                                       Know you will fail and that it’s okay                                                                           Just try to remember, start again the next day
Because sometimes you fall and sometimes you win                                       That’s the game of life and it wears you quite thin
It plays with your mind and tricks your own head                                           Where maybe some days you won’t leave your own bed
But keep on believing and doubting and breathing                                                                                                       Because when it’s all over, we are all still just leaving.

 

The Ginga Ninja

Just goes to show, you never can tell.

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You never can tell.

There are times I feel like a crazy person. Times I feel ostracized, outed, unsure, uncertain and just straight up envious of others. And you know what, I have wondered, do you think anybody ever feels jealous of me?

I guess I believed that as a kid they might. They just might. Over sports…or my house…certainly not my parents’ parenting or my ginger looks. And I guess I believed they just might when I picked up and moved across the world, littering Facebook with my uber amazing couply travel photos. And I guess I believed it when my beotchy coworker said “Sorry I’m not as perfect as you” immediately after she was reprimanded. And I guess I believed it when I accidentally lost a bunch of weight and suddenly looked good in a bikini and could rock a small.

But, those are all one-offs right? That coworker actually ended up crazy wealthy and on TV. Those sports skills? Well, they created these multi-surgeried, excessively scarred 70 year old knees. And those looks? Well, I’m still a ginger. And that weight? Well, I gained it back…and then some.

So, why would anybody envy me, lil old me, right?

Wrong. That perfect-post, quick to commit, new dog, skinny bod, wildest dreams come true girl you envy? Well, for reasons you may not know, for reasons you would never know from the shiny, bright, outside Instagram perspective…they envy you. They envy your nature, your honesty, your jokes, your ability to understand, they envy what you’ve learned, or the love they think you have. But, who knew?

And there is life summed up as a girl. We all want to believe somebody else’s life is better, purer, prettier, surer than ours. Nobody feels how we feel, nobody doubts how we doubt, nobody envies how we envy, nobody cries how we cry. But, here’s a secret…they do.

“If we knew each other’s secrets, what comforts we should find.”  – John Churton Collins

The Ginga Ninja