I am on the verge of something great.

Just give me a few months...

=/

A couple nights ago, our favorite regular customer died.

http://www.post-gazette.com/pg/09084/958136-100.stm

He was so young... only 30.
And, he leaves behind the most adorable little girl.
My condolences go to his family.

Treasure every second of your life,
because it's so incredibly fleeting.

Hi, hello.
I'm Lexi.
I'm imperfect.
And, I love myself.

Promise Ring

I've wanted to write about this for a bit, but never got around to it. I'm killing time before work, so there's no time like the present, I suppose.

I have this ring. It's more special to me than any other piece of jewelry I own. Now, rings serve as cultural symbols of significance for so many reasons: promise rings, engagement rings, wedding rings. But, all of those are about a relationship one has with another person. Mine is about my relationship with myself, which makes it far more important than any of those others in my mind.

Outwardly, it doesn't look all that noteworthy... just gold with a big black oval in the middle, but my god, is it amazing. It was my grandmother's college graduation ring. I wish I could say that's the reason it's so significant, but unfortunately, my grandmother passed away when I was two, so I really didn't have that opportunity like many do to get to know her or cherish her. I only have very faded, foggy stillframes in my recollection of her.

Giving up on one's dreams is in my genetics, you see. My grandmother was a college graduate in a time when most women didn't even attend post-secondary schooling. She was vastly interested in the arts, and eventually obtained a position working for the box office of the Pittsburgh Playhouse. She was a beautiful, lovable, charming woman, and the celebrities and socialites that passed through definitely took note. She befriended some of Hollywood's most elite members, and she was invited to move to New York as the roommate of one such woman to begin her career. However, around this time, she met my grandfather, and began to feel the pressure of conventions and expectations. She abandoned her dreams to settle down and have a family, and thus, my mother was born.

My mother was vastly interested in the arts, and she had friends with friends in high places. She sung, played guitar, piano, wrote her own songs, and dabbled in comedy. She performed at open mic nights around the city. She recorded demos. After giving a comedic speech at a friend's wedding, a higher-up at a comedy television show (one that gave birth to the careers of most of the early SNL stars, like Gilda Radner) approached her, asking her if she'd be interested in submitting a demo. When she told him that she was more interested in singing, he said he could help her out in that venture as well, and he told her to record and send him a demo. However, before sending him the demo, she played it for her parents (my grandparents) who were terribly harsh and told her it was awful. And, there it was. She didn't even send it. She gave up.

Now, here I am, on the threshold of something beyond what I could have ever hoped for. Again, as in generations passed, I am attempting to break into the arts. Despite the self-doubt everyone experiences as an artist, I truly feel that if I press onward and put enough effort into it, my chances of success are high. However, in those moments of self-doubt, I consider just giving it all up, and that's when that ring comes into play. It's my reminder to not follow in the footsteps laid down before me, to not become the third generation to hold promise and throw it away. I want to make it, not just for myself, but for my mother and my grandmother... I'll make it for all three of us and pay homage to these two amazing women that came before me.

That little piece of gold reminds me that it's possible.
It's my promise ring with myself.
I promise to not give up, no matter how difficult the going gets.
I promise myself.
I promise my mother.
I promise my grandmother.
I won't let us down.

You know, life is funny sometimes.

At the beginning of this week, I was incredibly stressed out and concerned with whether or not I'd be able to complete my final projects and papers on time... and now, my greatest concern is that the spacebar on this computer keeps sticking. I'm sitting here like normal, killing time until I have dinner company, perusing Swedish fashion blogs and reading Anthony Bourdain's various accounts of dining at Ferran Adria's El Bulli. (Damn spacebar is really getting quite annoying.)

And, why can I sit here like this right now? Because I was studious all quarter, because I completed my work on time instead of procrastinating, because I shot assignments instead of going out for St. Patrick's Day... and it all really did pay off in the end. Everyone around me is stressed out beyond belief, and I get to sit here, cool, calm, and collected. This feeling is worth all of my extra efforts this quarter and I'm so proud of myself. I hated every one of my classes, every single one. Each assignment felt like some monumental task to complete, being that I loathed the courses themselves. Yet, here I sit, reading about how little silk neck scarves are so very "in" (at least, I assume that's what's being said based on context clues) and preparing to eat some delicious eggplant parm at this hidden little Italian restaurant in the basement of the Law and Finance building, watching the pandemonium around me.

I haven't felt this "adult" in a while. Sometimes, I forget that I truly am an adult, as I just really crossed over that threshold, and it's easier and less intimidating to regress into adolescence and the behaviors that go along with it. (FUCK THIS SPACEBAR.) I feel more prepared for the "real world" than I ever have right now. Honestly, bring it on. You're not so scary, and I don't know why I've spent so long seeing and treating you as such. You're just a pussy cat, really. (Perhaps I just had a bit more growing up do. I'm sure I still have more of that to come.)

I'm so very content with my life as is right now. Everything is so simple, and simplicity is something I haven't been priviliged enough to experience in years. I am soaking this up. I am
"basking in the Good," to use the phrase coined by Rhianon and myself. And, the Good is being very good to little ol' me.

Back to Swedish fashion, I go!
Eggplant parm in 15!

Yesterday made me feel wonderful..

Forget about how my presentation went,
even though I think it went pretty well.
During it,
I was to show some of my portfolio and discuss it.
Assembling that portfolio is what
sent me into that mini-breakdown,
episode of self-doubt, whatever you call it.
Well, after I sat down from showing it,
people kept pulling me aside
and telling me that my photographs were beautiful.
WHAT?!
REALLY?!
I hated everything up on the screen
and thought it was awful,
yet the compliments poured in
about my composition and lighting.
I was so touched.
I literally (secretly) cried a few happy tears.
Maybe I CAN do this.
Maybe I AM on the right track in some way.
It was an amazing experience that I desperately needed.
As I've said so many times,
it's so important to stay humble.
And if you do,
you get to experience moments like yesterday.

It's time to photoshop my Portraiture independent project,
and I'm now excited to do so.
Feelin' good... feelin' so very good.

I am feeling this so hard today.

I am so blessed.

classic beauty...

...whatever happened to it?

I can't help but sit here and ponder this. You see, I have almost two hours to kill until my beloved Rhianon is out of her painting class and can join me for dinner. Therefore, here I sit in the library, perusing blackcig as per norm, when this post catches my eye: a collection of photographs of Vivien Leigh. As I scroll through them, I'm absolutely in awe of just how purely radiant she was, a true beauty for certain. A second thought crosses my mind: what happened to this sort of beauty? It has seemingly become a rarity for a female to possess this classic, ethereal beauty and behave like a lady (as opposed to a complete whore). Look at who we consider to be beautiful and just how the standard for beauty has changed. We give propers to emaciated, overtanned little tramps who pile on the makeup and hair extensions, skip out on the clothing (i.e. underwear, while flashing vagina to camera), surgically modify their bodies, and are known for their rampant atrocious behavior. This isn't beautiful. This is pathetic. If a team of highly-paid experts is required to make you "beautiful," SURPRISE, you're not really beautiful.

Also, I hold firm the belief that true beauty is more than just appearance. True beauty stems from character, and genuine, classically beautiful women just radiate with this certain aura. It oozes from their pores, and wordlessly, we know. We just know.

So when did this mass-confusion begin? When did beautiful and slutty/fake become synonymous? And, how do we undo it? I believe a good start would be executing all of the women on Rock of Love Bus by firing squad.

Then...

... and, now.

Really?! Are we serious?

No, I don't believe in the wasting of time. But, I don't believe that I'm wasting mine.

Been having a strong case of the blah's,
which is leading me to not/not want to leave my house.
I also haven't felt all that spectacular all week.
Various aches and pains with an unknown cause.
A headache that just would not quit for 4 days straight.
Now, I'm a bit lightheaded,
probably due to the fact that I haven't eaten much
courtesy of feeling shitty.

Staying in tonight,
splitting a bottle of White Zinfandel with my mother,
and playing a heated game of Trivial Pursuit.
And, I wouldn't have it any other way.

"Going out" every night is vastly overrated.
I don't need to socialize ZOMGZ every day
to feel secure in my friendships.
I'm past that phase for certain.
At this point in my life, I'd much rather just fucking relax.
I've been running around like mad for a few years now.
I felt the need to jam some social event
into every bit of free time I had,
and I'm just burned out on all of it.
It's due time to take a major break.
This is why you have not seen me in a few months, my friends.
So, if you'd like to come over and play Scrabble,
or watch a good movie,
or cook dinner with me,
or sip wine and listen to vinyl,
or have discussions,
you're more than welcome.
Otherwise, occasions of exiting my homestead,
beyond school and working,
have been and will continue to be much more seldom than prior.

"And you better start swimmin', or you'll sink like a stone,

for the times, they are a-changing."