Entry 38 : The Fear of Wrinkles

I don’t know when people generally start having mid-life crises’, but around a month before I turned 33, I started having this fear of getting wrinkles. It started with a conversation I had with a friend who casually mentioned her skin routines involving facial masks and exfoliating which led me to be filled with this feeling of oh shit. I am 33 years old and I haven’t moisturized daily, ever. Or exfoliated or done facial masks. I am going to wrinkle!

Since that initial freak out, I have found myself perusing the skincare aisles of every store (particularly Target) and stocking up on preventative wrinkle care.

I suppose there’s nothing wrong with taking precaution, but it has led me to think about why I find it so important to not age. Aging is inevitable, people are bound to wrinkle and develop puffy circles are their eyes and grey hairs. But why was it so important to me?

That is where it hit me : my self worth.

I am by no means a supermodel, but I’ve been called pretty and take pride staying in shape (or at least trying to) . But I suppose that is all I can see as being worth anything. I know it’s no use to mope around with that sort of mentality, and ultimately I have the power to change my life to make it something I’m proud of; it’s all in a matter of actually doing it.  While its really hard to break free of that when beneath those layers, there is that lack of self-confidence, I’m going to try to make it my resolution this year to snap myself out of that. … on top of fighting wrinkles.

Anyways, until next time.

 

Entry 37 : What’s Your Story?

Have you ever been asked the question What’s your story?

My immediate reaction is always like : What do you mean what’s my story? I don’t really …have one. Whats YOUR story. Then based on their answer, I answer the question.

To be quite honest, I don’t think my life is all that exciting so I’m never quite sure how to answer. When you think of stories / movies, they usually consist of a plot – sometimes with twists, turns, and an apex to the plot  – and my life has none of that. Its just, ordinary. To me its awesome, but ordinary. I mean, I cleaned my spare bathroom yesterday. This happens once a week. And then after that I folded laundry.  And then I grilled hot dogs for dinner.

If you want to go into the depth of my character, well – some might find my interests boring. I like to read, get lost in Michaels, word puzzles and regular puzzles, and binge watching The Great British Baking Show. I got into a Games of Thrones debate with the produce guy at the grocery store the other day. I hear any sort of Game of Thrones reference and my ears just perk up. He was talking to the other produce guy about the battle scene from last season and I just joined in like  I know right!?!  That was friggin crazy!

Some people think my personality weird. In high school, when I first started dating my high school boyfriend, this girl asked him Why are you dating her? She’s weird. At the time, it kind of hurt my feelings, but then I was like, wait a minute – she’s right. I am kind of weird; not in the bad socially-awkward way, just in the- I used to humm while i brushed my teeth -kind of way (true story. i dont do it anymore though, i swear…. ) and some people find that weird. I used to hope that girl who called me weird was losing in life, but I’ve gotten over it and have come to embrace the “weirdness” as part of why I’m awesome

Back to my story. This makes me realize how grateful I am not to be dating, just so I don’t have to answer that question. The very thought gives me anxiety. I would probably be rejected by waves if I was like I like puzzles, but it’s something I would say because it’s true.

I’m glad my husband didn’t think I was too weird on our first date. After we ate, I started making a sculpture with tortilla chips and poured water over it, saying its called art, you wouldn’t understand. I’d like to think he was just like Yea, shes a little weird, but super hot so I’ll let it pass. 😊

Anyways, until next time….

Entry 36: Now that Lent is Over….

Easter is over, and so is my fast from social media. I’m sure you all were wondering why I hadn’t been posting constant status updates or instagram posts on the happenings of my life (Because my life is so interesting), but rest assured – I am alive and everything is okay.  I had just given up social media for Lent.

I know what you’re probably thinking, social media? really? Jesus died on a cross and you chose to give up facebook for 40 days? Geez,  well,  now that I say it in my head, it sounds really lame because the two could never equate in suffering, but at the time I thought it was a great idea… and before I get judged – its my Lenten journey ! I do what I want!

At first it was pretty hard. My daily instinct was to usually go on social media, see what so-and-so was up to, or see where so-and-so went (because everyone leads such interesting lives)  To not have the ability to go on social media created a sense of anxiety that needed to be distracted by other stimulation.

A few weeks into Lent, I watched this Anderson Pooper 60 minutes piece on the effects of being on mobile devices for too long. He interestingly goes into the science of how you become anxious when not on the mobile device and how ‘checking-in’ releases this chemical in your brain to ease anxiety.

Holy shit, I said while I watched this episode. Luckily I hadn’t given up swearing. This is me!

Towards the end of Lent, I definitely felt less of a need to check my phone on a constant basis, less of a need to see that so-and-so checked in on Facebook to let everyone know they had to take shit in the bathroom of their own house, less of a need to let other people know what was going on with me, and less a need to figure right then and there the answer to whatever obscure question popped up in my head. Like, How tall is Jake Gyllenhaal. There was a time where we would ask these questions, and just be like…. huh, I don’t know.  and that would be that.

Sidetrack : If you really want to know the answer to this question of tall Jake Gyllenhaal is, there’s this awesome podcast called Mystery Show where the hosts investigates random questions, including this one. It’s super funny, and from what I remember she ends up actally talking to Jake Gyllenhaal (Jake Gyllenhaal is like “why does everyone keep asking me this!?!) and finding out how tall he is.

I definitely more focused on the here and now. And now that Lent is over, I’m trying to be more careful about not letting myself become as consumed as I once was and  I’m much more cynical over what I post. I mean, I think it’s great to share things about the cool stuff one experiences in life, but for me – my life isn’t really that cool. I’m not curing cancer or saving babies in Africa. I’m just in bed, with my glasses on, crusty’s in the eyes.  I don’t have deodorant on (yet). I plan to like meal plan today…. and then..yeah,  not that interesting or relevant.

But anyways… Until next time…

Entry 35 : Social Media De-Compress

I haven’t been on social media as of late, not providing consistent updates on the happenings on my life,  including the fact that I am going to bed because I am tired, or shared a picture of a most recent zit on my nose, or notified you all on my most recent cravings for fortune cookies. Because well, my life is all that interesting and when I fail to “check in” to the bathroom of my home to notify you that I’m going to take a shit, that is cause for concern.

What happened was…. well, Lent happened, and for Lent I decided to give up Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and Snapchat.

It was hard at first My constant impulse was to go on these social media forums and see what so-and-so was up to, and to let people know I had seen a squirrel, or share a picture of Europeans in speedos. So to prevent myself from going on successfully, I signed out of everything in order to create a roadblock for myself.

Well, everything except twitter, mainly because I never go on twitter and I forgot that I even had a twitter account when I was signing out of everything. I go on twitter an average of once or twice a year and have 1 follower (my husband).  A few days into lent, I received a notification on a witty Anna Kendrick tweet that she liked cake, or something to that effect and it made me laugh, because well… I too like cake.  So I ‘liked’ her tweet, and forgot all about it. A few hours later, my husband messaged me, asking me if I went had gone on social media that day.  I backtracked as best as I could, recounting the events of the day and replied with an adamant no.

Being my one twitter follower, he mentioned he had seen that I had ‘liked’ an Anna Kendrick tweet.

Me:  O_O Oh shit, yea I did. I forgot. But it was a funny tweet!

I got called out, but in truth, I never use twitter and had completely forgotten that I had been on it for that brief moment. I soon after signed out of my twitter account to prevent future logins by impulse.

Since then I have fasted from social media, going on only on Sundays, as Sundays don’t count in Lent. So if you’re like, What the Hell Winter! Didn’t you know that I was at Dairy Queen on Wednesday? I checked in on Facebook and tagged you because I know you like cookies and cream blasts! … or I told the world I was gay on Facebook last week, and you don’t know?!?  Sorry, I’ve been out of the loop. But to be honest, its been refreshing to not be so consumed by the need instantly let people know everything  I’m up to, which is usually something along the lines of going to Home Depot or grocery shopping, or helping to fix a toilet flush valve. Please, try not be envious.

Anyways… until next time.

 

 

 

Entry 35 : Case of the Ex. 2

A couple of weeks ago, I wrote about insta-stalking an ex-boyfriend, and how I wished I could look at that time of my life, without feeling animosity.

Well, funny story – I ended up having this dream a few weeks ago that the ex-boyfriend was trying to get back together with me; he was remorseful over all the hurt and suffering he had caused me, and blah blah blah.

In my dream, I felt conflicted; I was getting what I thought I wanted (him groveling back to me), but it wasn’t at all satisfying. Like, I was happy and didn’t want to give up my life with my husband, who in my dream was played by my real husband. lol. Have you ever had those dreams where somebody is supposed to be someone to you… like a spouse, or a best friend, but it’s role played by someone else who is not that person in real life?

Anyways, even though I felt really confused in my dream, I woke up happy. If dreams are supposed to be a pathway into the psyche, what I think my psyche was telling me to get over it. I have to admit a small part of me wished that at some point in life, he would realize that he had fucked up on the best thing he had ever had and would pine away eating ice cream and getting fat, but to be honest – the dream made me realize that none of that even matters anymore. While getting my heart broken was not fun, I should look at it as a blessing, one that opened a pathway to a better me, an awesome life, and a studly spouse.

So there, no more holding grudges for something in the past.

Until next time…

Entry 34: Prepping for Desert Heat

I’ve been in the desert for about a year, and have been getting compliments on the tan that I’ve acquired.

What can I say? In being graced by sun majority of the year, my Filipino was bound to come out. I don’t know for sure if that’s why I don’t ever burn and just tan nicely, but it’s the only logical reason I can think of.

Not to say that I have never gotten sunburned ever

There was one time I burned really bad: Husband and I had gone to Hawaii and I got super dark because he gave me tanning oil, instead of sun-protection. I fell asleep under the sun and woke up 3 hours later so burnt, it hurt to shower for weeks. Even the locals’ eyes filled with pity as they saw me teetering around the shops in my burnt skin. That’s when you know it’s bad, when the locals feel bad for you.

I learned my lesson (tanning oil is not a replacement for SPF), and since then have not gotten sunburned, but I’m still not excited for the inevitable surge of heat during the coming months. As I’m writing this, my memory is getting flashbacks to last summer, when it got over 100 degrees and just walking a quarter of a mile became the longest walk ever.

It’s the kind of heat that makes it suck to even breathe, where even wearing nothing doesn’t help. Where the only thing that helps is sitting in an air-conditioned place and doing nothing but eating something cold, like icecream, or popsicles, or frozen grapes, with the tv on and the remote within reach.

If only every day I had an excuse for doing just that.

Until next time….

 

Entry 33: Putting Effort to look like a Lady

I swore when I became a full-time housewife that I would never let myself go: I would workout, do household chores, do my make-up and curl my hair, so that my husband would come home to a hot and sexy wife.

Now I’ve been a housewife for close to a year, my husband comes home and with one look is like did you even comb your hair? 

No, I did not.

I’ve become the woman I swore I would never become: wearing sweats all day, a loose fitted shirt, and hair tied up in a messy bun. While I do feel like I have gotten in better shape with so much time to workout, I’ve realized that it’s too much effort to “get done up” if you will, when after the gym I have to clean the house and do all these chores. Besides which , the question I always find myself asking when thinking about putting some makeup on is Who’s going to see me?  Am I really putting on make-up just to go to Target? 

The other week I went to jury duty, and as I walked up the steps to the courthouse, I saw a woman, dressed in a pencil skirt, fashionable 3 inch stilletoes, and a Luis Vuitton bag around her shoulder. Her make up was done to perfection, and you could tell she had taken the time to blowdry and straighten her hair out. She reminded me of my younger self (minus the Luis bag because I can’t afford that shit), back when I had a 9 to 5, and suddenly I became self-conscious of what I was wearing, how my hair was in a quick bun, and how minimal my make-up was. Had I forgotten what it was like to be a confident woman?

Since then, I’ve been putting a little more effort in my appearance, actually showering daily, not waiting for my hair to knot up before brushing it, and putting makeup on in an effort to not lose my sense of feminity. I’m not going all out with my apearance, because – like I said before – who’s going to see me when I’m sweeping, but I don’t want to be that person that wears sweats every day out of laziness.

That’s all for now. Until next time…