An open book?

Since my last post, I have received a lot of feedback from people who read my blog. Thank you, because you all are very encouraging with your words, thoughts and comments. I am fortunate to be surrounded with such a wonderful network of people who appreciate my passion and add to it.

Out of these comments a lot of people have talked to me about the fact that my blog is so open and honest. They've mentioned that what they read on here is written freely and to an extent they feel as though they're in my mind.

This got me thinking: Am I being too open? Too honest? Am I not saving any aspect of my thoughts and ideas ... things that should remain private, for myself?

This is the reason why I haven't posted on here for so long. I have been busy trying to build a professional online portfolio of stories and photos, so that at this time next year, I will actually start getting paid for my work. It doesn't hurt to be a dreamer, right? Aside from this, I also needed some time to think about whether or not I should keep this blog. I have to admit that although I don't update it too often, this blog has outlasted any social networking site that I have been part of or any of my prior attempts at blogging.

Still, I do write a lot of my thoughts on here. Usually, these thoughts are just ramblings that I type away, in an effort to get rid of some of the static that takes over my mind. In a program where I am constantly thinking... of possible events to cover, of people to interview, of those who don't respond to my messages, of new people to interview, of structure, of format, of headlines, of decks, of layout designs, of photo angles... of... of... of... everything except my life... this blog helps clear up some of the fog, allowing me to briefly have a checkin with my own thoughts.

I have always been an open book. In fact, after earning a major in theatre, I wondered how that even happened. I have never been a good liar and have most often always gotten caught when I attempted to do so. Hence, I figured why not lay it all out there. without worrying too too too much about grammar... or structure.

This is far from that cliche of "people airing their dirty laundry out in public."

I am positive beyond a doubt that a lot of the people who read this blog don't know a speckle of the dirt on my laundry. Well, maybe some of you know about that ketchup stain on my white shirt. Those of you who didn't know about that, do now.

I come on here when I know there's at least one of you who will get a kick from reading my ramblings. And... to my huge surprise, there's more of you reading this blog now than in Dec 07. I was surprised... but I kind of like it.

For a girl who stumbles on her words when talking, I feel as though this blog allows me to talk to my friends (you all)... and by reading it, you are letting me know that you're listening. There is a great possibility that I'm being judged... but if you have something to say back, you have to write a comment. Did I mention, I love comments?

Anyway, I guess listening helps too. You all don't realize this... but you're all the inspiration for Breezy Thoughts.

It is from my conversations with you that I am able to think... and write... You're all an inspiration to me.

Ok... go on.... insert cheesy music here


and... insert... GAG... here

xo
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Letters

I've written a lot of letters in my life; some to other people and most to myself. None of these letters were typed out. If and when they were, I called them e-mails.
I recently got back into the habit of writing long-winded and conversational letters. Not too long ago I shared one with a friend who was shocked that I still did this. I looked at her and wondered if there was something wrong with me. As it turns out, she was shocked because:
a) my handwriting was still legible... apparently in these days of the keyboard, peoples penmanship has taken a turn for the worse... and
b) she actually enjoyed reading it.

Some of the letters I have written have gone along the following lines:

When I was 12, I wrote a letter to myself at age 16. I wrote a list of things I needed to have done and accomplished by 16. I also wrote down my 12-year-old thoughts about how the world would look at age 16. I put the letter in an airmail envelope, and highlighted the front, "To Me at 16. Do not open till 16th Birthday." Strangely enough, on my 16th birthday (which, mind you, was life altering enough for me to never forget) it was the first thing I did. For four years I had played and replayed the contents of the letter in my head and knew exactly what was in that envelope as I opened it. Still, the idea of reading it thrilled me to no extent. Nevertheless, I had accomplished 2 out of the 10 things I had listed. I haven't written such a letter ever since. At 16 I learned never to set timelines for myself, because life should be lived small goals at a time.

I have written letters to three guys in my lifetime. One in elementary school, one in high school and one during my university years... this one ended up being one of those e-mails I mentioned earlier. Though I will never disclose the contents of these letters and to an extent, go flush-faced every time I think about them, I don't regret ever writing them. I have always found writing therapeutic. I find comfort in expressing my thoughts and ideas with a pen on paper, rather than speaking them out. When i do speak, I get nervous, I feel judged, I feel like a flake and I also find that I repeat myself.

I wrote a letter to my father at age eight. The I wrote one to him at 12... 14... 15...

I have written numerous letters to my family overseas. Most of the time, I never get a response. However, the letters I send never come back, so I know they receive them. Therefore, I keep writing.

I still think mail, the old fashioned way, has the power to bring a smile to anyone's face. However, bills or flyers do not count.

When I put my thoughts and ideas down on paper, I feel as though they are being absorbed into an honest place. The paper does not judge me... it just takes whatever I have to say, line after line. You may be wondering here, what I'm doing writing this blog via keyboard... Well, the content of this blog was written while I rode the subway a couple of nights ago, on my way home from work. In a book. With a pen... when I should have been reading for my 8 a.m. class the next day.

Realistic... really!

I watched Juno this past weekend and absolutely enjoyed it! I've also been indulging in a PBS series, which shows Jane Austen movies every sunday at 9pm... that's my plug, encouraging you to watch it as well! (Have I ever mentioned my love for all things Jane Austen?)

I guess all these movies of heroines and leading men got my mind wandering again. I was talking to a few of my friends over the weekend and realized I've (finally) found someone who I've placed as my bar. It may seem unrealistic, as no one can be categorized or boxed... and if we want to do that to people, we may find ourselves in more trouble than we bargained for.
In any case... this is the description I managed to fester up:

Tall... well taller than me at least.
Strong... silent: Not Hercules or a mute... but good presence... and values his words... may not say the right thing all the time... but makes an effort to.
Presents himself to the world as proper... straight edged... I like to call it the Clark Kent syndrome. I'm a sucker for the 'computer-geek' glasses!
Takes Casual Friday seriously... I'm talking leather jacket...
Has bad-boy characteristics... but feels no need to flaunt them. May have a tattoo... the world doesn't need to know.
Reads novels... not ashamed of it.
Self proclaimed geek... but the confidence he exudes makes him all the more ... what's the word I'm looking for?
Good posture... not a slouch... looks at the world instead of hiding from it.
No intention of changing for anyone... but possibly modest and shocked at compliments.
Shocking... but not terrifying.
Relaxed... but not lazy.
Has no reason to be loud... whispers at the right moments... communicates with silence, smiles, touches and eye contact.

Fanny never settled for anything less than she knew she deserved. Alex told me never to settle for anything less than I deserve. I know I won't settle...
But describing you... as I see you... from what I know of you... was well worth the time it took to draw you out of my mind and paint you with words.

xo

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Forbidden Thinking

I know... I know...
I've been told more than a thousand times that I should stop thinking! I can't help it.
Today I wondered about how and why things work out so well for some people time after time, while they barely ever do for others. Isn't there supposed to be some sort of karmic/cosmic balance in the universe? The Yin-Yang idea?

I've seen some people put so much of their effort into gaining just a slight step in the direction they want their lives to head in... for others, they don't even need to nod or blink for what they want -- it just happens!
I know that the feelings that stem from gaining something you've longed for a very long time are awesome. However, the frustration is far worse.

Eventually, something's got to give right?

When is eventually, though? A week? A month? A year? A decade?

I don't know how much I believe in this idea of "good things come to those who wait" or "don't look for it... it will look for you."
Seems like those ideas were just made up by people who already had it all or by those who wanted to justify why they didn't get what they wanted or needed.

Going after something you want is easier said than done as well, when for most people, what they want falls right into their laps...
Meanwhile those who worked their butts off for as long as they can remember... are left with ..... nothing-ness.

I really wish I could understand how things work. Who decides who gets to be happy and who gets to work for nothing? Who calls the shots for our lives? Who rolls the dice time after time, and says "today I will keep this person on the eternal wait-list for happiness.... and push this person ten steps further into a life they're already over satisfied with" ?

I just got home from a long day. There may be a slight possibility that the full moon outside has affected me.... though, as usual... I highly doubt it.

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