are you on them?

Working where I work, I come across some interesting stories regarding the reasons behind drug use.  Some of the reasons are not very solidly thought out, such as " my husband thought these would make me less crazy", and others are reasons that would make even the most staunch opponent of drug use consider taking them.  

"The drugs make all the thoughts in my head go at a speed that makes sense" or the ever popular " I can finally relax and not look or act stressed all the time".   

All of these reasons are reasons people take drugs. Some take drugs to be cool, some to be good at things, others to escape the world for a bit, and then there are the select few people who just take drugs just to take drugs...

I don't take any drugs, though the people who know me probably would cite that I drink coffee on a daily basis.... but I do that for taste honestly. I could find caffine in a lot of things and eat/drink them to get that caffine, but I don't.  Other friends would say that maybe if I were on drugs, I might be a (Insert adjetive here) person.   I really dont like altering myself to make me fit any more into society.  I feel that the unique "quirky" personality makes me attractive to a lot of people, and while I don't really know anyone who hates me, I am sure that if they do, its most likely because of my personality...but I know it is not my altered personality, it is simply me.

the difference on pages

Yesterday, I went to Target to try to peruse the aisles for something to jump out as a good birthday gift for my boyfriend. Nothing did, but in my wanderings, I went over to my standby, the magazine rack. Now, just so we dont get ahead of ourselves, I absolutely loathe the fact that "women magazines" have to deal with pregnancy, weddings, hair styles, sex, and fashion. You go over to the "men magazines", and all of a sudden, you get things like, how to take care of yourselves, how to grow your own garden, and political things you need to know to be informed citizens.

Now, I want something that is similar to GQ for women. Right now, GQ is my all time favorite mens magazine. Its sharp, a little crass, very visually stimulating, and all together stylishly sexy.
Do you know of a womens magazine that has all that? I can think of several different magazines doing this, Real Simple can tell you how to grow your own garden, and how to buy a raincoat under 30 dollars, and vogue can tell you how to do your hair for this falls runway show, but I don't know of any womens magazines that tell you " what to expect in '09s politics" .. really???

Why the gender difference? Ergh. I want a magazine that is like vanity fair plus glamour plus real simple put together without having to pay 20 dollars for all three.

on a funky high

So I am on a funny mood rollercoaster these past few days....

sometimes I feel like I could roll around in the grass, and just while away the hours laughing and being so much like a child.

Other times, I feel amazing overwhelmed and crushed by the world around me. Maybe too many anxious thoughts crossing my mind, probably all of them are fake worries, but who has time to discern the fake from the real worries anymore?

I guess I am not as bad off as some of my friends. One of my friends has no job, another one lost his love, and yet another one is almost constantly putting one foot in the wrong direction and wondering what went wrong.

I have not lost my job, or my love, and as far as I can see, I have both feet facing the same direction.. so I think.

I wish I had the freedom to do all the things I thought I had time to do... where do these "free people" work, and can I get a job there right now? I want to be free enough to be able to take a few weeks off and see India, start working on my photography, buy a house, go river rafting ( again), ... oh so many things.

"oh the places you'll go.."

thinking about average

Today I felt average and old.

Not old in the sense that I was aging faster than normal, but in a context to which my habits and routines felt antiquated and out dated.

I woke up wrapped in the encompassing arms of my boyfriend, warmed by his breathing, and comfortably safe. I was invisible to the outside and for a few seconds, that is all that I wanted. Then the buzzing came. First low and far away, like a siren of a far away street. Then the sound grew and pierced my quiet bubble. Stirring, my boyfriend turned his head to the noise, and cursed aloud at the flashing red and blue lights that constitutes my alarm. I put out my arm to hit it, smack it, make it cease, yet I was a few inches away. I resigned to the fact that unless I got out of bed, I would never turn it off.

Once out of bed, out of the warm and safe embrace of my boyfriend, I put on slippers, a robe, and shuffled across my room to turn off the horrible machine. Once off, my senses seemed to overcompensate for a flash of a second and all the world was a thunder of silence. My eyes squinted at the bright light that seemed to find the smallest crack to break the darkness of my room. My nose smelled the air, and realized that I was at least coherent enough last night to turn on the coffee pot.

Turning around, I realized that my boyfriend was no longer in my bed, and that I was alone in my room. Quickly shedding my robe and slippers, I put on clothes, and went into the kitchen to pour two Irish coffees which I knew I would need to get me through the rest of my day.

This whole morning, from every waking moment of it, could have been experienced by any woman with a boyfriend from the last 15 years, and I could have been approxamately 50 years older and had the same morning as well. In retrospect, I think that every routine is a bunch of your averages. It is an average morning, so you do your average thing, and hope for an average reaction to these things, noting that maybe something horrible/ excellent will happen, but keeping that note to yourself and not adjusting your routine to make room for either extreme.