Wednesday, January 30, 2013

Someone Like You: A Guided Meditation

The Trader Joe's across from my work has some interesting song choices. I don't know who's in charge of the music over there, but it's rarely you're typical quiet grocery store tunes. One time they were blasting "Push It" by Salt-N-Pepa, and I thought it was the funniest thing ever. I looked around to see if anyone else thought it was weird, but no one seemed phased. They just kept shopping for hummus while Salt-N-Pepa yelled, "Pu-push it real good!"

Fast forward to today when I ran over there at lunch to grab a few things. I stocked up on snacks, grabbed something for dinner. I was looking for something to eat for lunch when it began--that infamous melancholy piano...

NOTE: It's best if you read the rest of this while listening to the song, like a messed up guided meditation.

You're in the middle of Trader Joe's when it begins. Your heart sinks immediately like it does for everyone when Adele's "Someone Like You" starts playing, even though it came out like two years ago and has been seriously overplayed. It doesn't matter that you were in a good mood before you walked in. You are now sad.

"It's okay," you tell yourself. "I'll muscle through. Just gotta get something for lunch and I'm outta here."

Hmmm, BBQ chicken salad or Caeser salad? The chicken looks pretty good. You could use a little more protein in your diet. Gah! Who cares? Nothing matters. You can't take this song anymore. Your heart just keeps sinking further and further until it's in your stomach. You have to get out of here. You grab the closest salad and make a beeline for the register.

You see a line with one person in it. Perfect. You'll be out of here in no time. The song seems to be getting louder and louder as you unload your groceries. Images of all the people who have ever broken your heart dance in your mind. You suddenly remember sad things from when you were young, like when you wanted to be Rainbow Brite on the playground at preschool, but you never got to be Rainbow Brite because that bossy girl always said she was Rainbow Brite and you're not sure why all the kids listened to her because no one liked her anyway. You will never be Rainbow Brite.


It's like Adele is right there in Trader Joe's, bagging your groceries and reaching into your soul with her bare hands like you're a carved pumpkin and she's pulling out all the yuckiness that's buried deep inside of you. The guy in front of you is taking forever! What is the deal??? Something about his credit card not working. Maybe you should leave. 

Just like those books in middle school that your teacher wouldn't let you use for book reports because they weren't "real" books, you must choose your own adventure. If you want to drop all your groceries and flee the store like a crying lunatic, turn to page six. 

"No," you tell yourself. "I will get through this." You choose to stay and tough it out. You've made it this far. It's just a song. 

But you can't shake the sadness. You think about everything sad that's ever happened to you. The boys who never asked you to the dance. People in your life you've lost. Failed relationships. Those Pedigree Dog Adoption commercials where David Duchovny makes you want to adopt every dog on the planet. It's a flood of depressing thoughts. 


It's finally your turn. The cashier rings you up, but there is something wrong with the card reader. It doesn't seem to be reading anyone's debit cards. You don't have any cash. She has to call the manager over.


You're officially stuck in Trader Joe's, listening to one of the saddest songs on Earth while re-thinking all of your life choices. Maybe you should have moved to a different city. Maybe your major in college was a mistake. Maybe every choice you ever made was wrong. Maybe you suck at life.

Finally the card goes through and you're able to take your bags and run, but not before you hear:


End of f'd up guided meditation.

On a lighter, but related note, the SNL sketch about this song is still hilarious (sorry, this was the best version I could find).

And because I believe no one should go to bed sad, I leave you with this pick-me-up. S-S-S-Salt N Pepa's here!

Friday, January 25, 2013

Bad Habits

First blog post of the year. You know what that means. I'm procrastinating. This usually means I'm avoiding cleaning or writing. Tonight it's both. Although I'm mostly avoiding writing, which sucks because I was so pumped about it earlier! At first I was bummed I didn't make any plans on this Friday night, mostly because my hair looks AWESOME. Seriously, best hair day I've had a in while thanks to the hair tutorial I found on Pinterest. So when I came home after work I felt like I was wasting an evening, but then I thought,  'Wait! I know what I'll do! I'll spend the whole evening writing! I'll start working on the screenplay/novel/sketch/short story/poem I never finished.' And suddenly I loved the idea of staying at home writing a novel while looking super fabulous. It's so Carrie Bradshaw.

Image from

But then the procrastination gene kicked in and I thought, 'Maybe I'll blog first.' THEN I put off my normal procrastination method of choice and started doing things like stalk people on Facebook and research my ailments on WebMD (I have six weeks to live most likely). After that I decided to re-read ALL my blog posts. I had no idea I've had this blog since 2006! That's a long ass time. I haven't read the old posts in ages. I was worried about what I would find. I expected to be embarrassed by really awful writing. I assumed I'd be deleting a lot of old posts.

In re-reading all these posts, I discovered two things:

1. My writing is funny! It's actually really funny. I wasn't embarrassed by any of it. If anything I was inspired. The old stuff is a hoot! Why do I doubt myself? Then I realized that I've spent the last SEVEN YEARS doubting my storytelling ability. Why? Why? Why? I could have written a million things in that time. No more doubting myself! Self-doubt is a major waste of time.

2. My eating habits are terrible. I guess I already knew that, but reading all those old posts made me realize just how bad I've been about my eating. From the yam and diet coke lunch to sugarless ice cream bars from the 99 Cent Store to microwaveable Weight Watchers meals to Pizza For One to a sandwich in a box to the time I ate a piece of cookware that fell into my pasta because I thought it was an olive. Do I not have any respect for my body? Good Lord! I wish I could say I've changed, but do you want to know what I had for dinner tonight? Wine! With some crackers and chocolate crisps thrown in for good measure. Wow. For the past seven years I've had the worst diet ever. And I wonder why I have stomach problems now! Just today I was telling a friend that I'm pretty sure I have gallstones/ulcers/stomach cancer due to the consistent pain in my stomach. Maybe it's my body's way of yelling at me. It's all fun and games in your 20s when you can fall asleep with fast food wrappers on your nightstand, but then one day you're facing 32 and your body starts falling apart. Note to self: Hit up a farmer's market once in a while.

The good news is I'm pumped to write. Yeah! Let's do this!