I'm just wondering if anyone is reading this...I'm not thinking of stopping, because I NEED this outlet like ya'll just don't know. However, I am writing things for myself as well, mostly because they aren't fit for public consumption--at least, not by anyone who knows me. But I'm not getting any feedback, so once again, here I am, begging for someone to tell me something. What direction would you like to see this go in? Do you love or hate the utter randomness of it all? Please, someone...tell me something!
I'll keep writing, I just hope ya'll will keep reading.
And with it being New Year's Eve, I must absolutely wish all of you health, love, luck, and happiness in the new year. I wish fabulous things for all of us. I just don't have anything more profound than that to say.
Hugs & Kisses,
Lola
Thursday, December 31, 2009
Monday, December 28, 2009
there's just so much...
Well, Lola fans, I'm so sorry it's been so long since I've written. My usual excuses hold true--the time and inspiration just haven't been there. And again, right now, as I type, I struggle. I fight myself with this thing every time I write. How much do I share? Just how vulnerable do I allow myself to become? Plus, there are so many things going on in my world...in my mind...in my heart...How do I ever organize it into a cohesive blog?
I guess let's start with whatever comes up first, shall we?
I'm watching an "LA Ink" marathon on TLC, which is a dangerous endeavor for me. I really admire Kat Von D. She's gorgeous, she's tatted to shit, she wears crazy amazing makeup, she's brilliant and strong and talented and seems to be a wonderful friend and businesswoman. And every time I watch this show, I find myself plotting some crazy makeup schemes with wild colors and mismatching and an in-your-face aesthetic. I also find myself dreaming up new tattoo ideas and trying to figure out where I could put them. I struggle all the time with my inner desire to just tattoo nearly every blank square-inch of skin on my body from the shoulders down; and my practicality that reminds me of how much time and trouble that would cost me when it comes to performing and having to cover that shit up. Plus, I've always told myself that my tattoos must be meaningful to me for the long run, but I also give myself some leeway by reminding myself that the ink will always tell my story. Any given tattoo is just a visual illustration of where I was in my life at that moment, and every experience is a learning experience. There is no room in my life for regret. So who knows what ink may come down the pipe? Pin-ups, flowers, banners, my tarot card, maybe a cat...I have so many ideas...I'm just waiting for my body to tell me what it wants at the right time.
Now, that's not to say I don't wish certain events in my life had happened...What I mean is that, I don't regret anything I've done. There are things that I missed out on, opportunities I did not take advantage of. Mostly boys I could have hooked up with that I didn't, for whatever reason I had at the time. I should've just jumped their bones when I had the chance. I can count those on one hand, but the impact those missed opportunities had on my life will be felt until the moment I draw my last breath.
Speaking of boys, I have some things to say:
DA, I still fucking miss you. I hate it, but I miss you every fucking day. It's like this ridiculous loss of something I never had and some days it feels like an illusion and some days the ache is so real it stops my breath. I still see the future we might have had, the path we didn't get to take. It's just so strange. This feeling...all these feelings I have for you...they don't stem from any sort of dissatisfaction in my life. I'm a very loved, lucky, content woman who has more than I ever dreamed of. But I still see it. I see this alternate reality sort of shimmering in the distance, I imagine our wedding, I remember how I felt around you, and I know that you're gone from me...possibly forever...and there are days I just don't know how to process that.
To my fake boyfriend Adam Levine, I'm so disappointed in you. I really wish you had crawled under the sofa and found your balls. You've never been able to be honest with me, and for some idiotic reason, I took that as a reflection on me. But I realize now, it has nothing to do with me at all--it has everything to do with your utter lack of...you know, I'm not sure exactly what it is you're lacking. Couth? Honesty? Consideration? Ok, yeah, all of the above. Why couldn't you just tell me you had a real girlfriend and that you needed me to leave you alone? Leaving someone to figure out something like that and hear things from other people is just flat-out wrong. So fine. It's over. Done. Later. I reckon she'll discover what a freak you really are and run for the hills, because she just doesn't strike me as that kind of girl. Though, I could also see you completely stifling that part of you just to keep her by your side. From here, it looks an awful lot like a match made for other people rather than your personalities, but what the fuck do I know? Nada.
Well, I guess that's all the crap that was floating in the top of my brain that needed to be let out...Later, faithful Lola fans.
I love you all, never forget it.
Lola
I guess let's start with whatever comes up first, shall we?
I'm watching an "LA Ink" marathon on TLC, which is a dangerous endeavor for me. I really admire Kat Von D. She's gorgeous, she's tatted to shit, she wears crazy amazing makeup, she's brilliant and strong and talented and seems to be a wonderful friend and businesswoman. And every time I watch this show, I find myself plotting some crazy makeup schemes with wild colors and mismatching and an in-your-face aesthetic. I also find myself dreaming up new tattoo ideas and trying to figure out where I could put them. I struggle all the time with my inner desire to just tattoo nearly every blank square-inch of skin on my body from the shoulders down; and my practicality that reminds me of how much time and trouble that would cost me when it comes to performing and having to cover that shit up. Plus, I've always told myself that my tattoos must be meaningful to me for the long run, but I also give myself some leeway by reminding myself that the ink will always tell my story. Any given tattoo is just a visual illustration of where I was in my life at that moment, and every experience is a learning experience. There is no room in my life for regret. So who knows what ink may come down the pipe? Pin-ups, flowers, banners, my tarot card, maybe a cat...I have so many ideas...I'm just waiting for my body to tell me what it wants at the right time.
Now, that's not to say I don't wish certain events in my life had happened...What I mean is that, I don't regret anything I've done. There are things that I missed out on, opportunities I did not take advantage of. Mostly boys I could have hooked up with that I didn't, for whatever reason I had at the time. I should've just jumped their bones when I had the chance. I can count those on one hand, but the impact those missed opportunities had on my life will be felt until the moment I draw my last breath.
Speaking of boys, I have some things to say:
DA, I still fucking miss you. I hate it, but I miss you every fucking day. It's like this ridiculous loss of something I never had and some days it feels like an illusion and some days the ache is so real it stops my breath. I still see the future we might have had, the path we didn't get to take. It's just so strange. This feeling...all these feelings I have for you...they don't stem from any sort of dissatisfaction in my life. I'm a very loved, lucky, content woman who has more than I ever dreamed of. But I still see it. I see this alternate reality sort of shimmering in the distance, I imagine our wedding, I remember how I felt around you, and I know that you're gone from me...possibly forever...and there are days I just don't know how to process that.
To my fake boyfriend Adam Levine, I'm so disappointed in you. I really wish you had crawled under the sofa and found your balls. You've never been able to be honest with me, and for some idiotic reason, I took that as a reflection on me. But I realize now, it has nothing to do with me at all--it has everything to do with your utter lack of...you know, I'm not sure exactly what it is you're lacking. Couth? Honesty? Consideration? Ok, yeah, all of the above. Why couldn't you just tell me you had a real girlfriend and that you needed me to leave you alone? Leaving someone to figure out something like that and hear things from other people is just flat-out wrong. So fine. It's over. Done. Later. I reckon she'll discover what a freak you really are and run for the hills, because she just doesn't strike me as that kind of girl. Though, I could also see you completely stifling that part of you just to keep her by your side. From here, it looks an awful lot like a match made for other people rather than your personalities, but what the fuck do I know? Nada.
Well, I guess that's all the crap that was floating in the top of my brain that needed to be let out...Later, faithful Lola fans.
I love you all, never forget it.
Lola
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