To All You Stockers :)

It's humbling when people stock you. I know most people would call it creepy or crazy. An evasion of privacy or even just.. annoying. As I once did. I by no means am trying to sound conceited or precieve vanity in anyway. I use the word "stocker" as a more general term for several different ocurrances. I have encounted many types of people. Not that I have been around for decades and decades going around the world meeting people, but I guess I have a knack for attracting outlandish people. My dad recently reminded me of something he told me often when I was young, that I am a leader, a person in which people will follow or mimick. I have found that to be true, though obliged and exhausted of the idea.
Leadership in all forms. Whether its wanting advice, a shoulder to cry on, some type of guidance, just a laugh, or just someone to point at so they dont have to focus on their own problems. I often find myself becoming the scapegoat. I have reluctantly accepted the responsibilty of whatever role people want me to play. Not because I am necessarily good or bad at these things or because they are always acceptable for them to do, but for the simple fact of not having enough energy to try to control other peoples emotions, be them good or bad. You can try, no doubt, to prove the bad ones wrong, or use the gift of persuasion if you have that talent. You can do your best to set a good example or a bad one whichever one plays out; both have gained me my stockers; not "my" meaning I own them, but just the people that pay extra close attention to me.
People want to choose for me what I do with my day. Some go as far as trying to dictate how my life will play out. What would be compatible with their own lives is all it is. What would be convenient for them or what they think would be convenient for me. It still is hard to get use to when you have people driving past your house just to see if you are home or who might be here with me. Most people know nothing about me, who I am, what I am thinking, or what I do behind closed doors. They will make up this beautiful or ugly person and believe I am that. If I do something other than what they thought that beautiful person should do than its wrong. Even though, its just me. What's ironic is they pay close enough attention to know when I do something different than someone else, and ultimately it draws them to me. Whether they like it, question it, or fight it.
Its a funny feeling always being watched, it is the feeling of being stocked. Sometime people have really tried to tear me down. Some did an exceptional job. I have found it to be the people in which I am closest. For the obvious fact that they know..or knew the most about me. They know how to hit below the belt. These are the people that know I have leadership qualities and I have the confidence to go with it. They will do anything they can to break that down. To make not true. To make me weak. Kick me when I'm down and watch me as I bleed if you must. But sadly they dont realize these are qualities I was born with and have had my entire life. I didn't choose these qualites of confidence and conviction of self-worth and humor. Its something I know has been taken from the world. We should all share these qualities. Trying to break that down is like trying to change my hair color. You might be able to change the outside with dye, or the sun. But I'll always be brunette.
And of course I'm not perfect either. Being stocked makes it challenging with I screw up. My stockers have a hay-day. But good for them. I know sometimes people just need to have their day brightened. (Sarcasm was something I learned along the way) But I have learned the most about my leaderships skills in moments of failure and about others skills as well, or lack their of at times.
Nonetheless I hope that I try to be humbled by playing this role of grandeur. Since I know somehow its significant. Stockers just want someone to support them, to love them, or to show them how. Someone to take the blame, someone to say I'm sorry, or I love you and be the first to do so. I'll be around to do that for them. In the meantime I'll work on me and improving in anyway I can. And to try to use my qualities for good considering I have the abilities to reach out to the stockers who exert so much energy in showing interest in me, and what I'm doing.


 Ale

Saturday Market

I have been desperate for the sunshine. I don't mind rain in the winter but given the most recent reoccurring events in my life, drizzly days were draining my spirits. I needed the natural warmth on my skin and the bright rays in my eyes to wake up my being. The love i have for the sun runs through my veins and helps my body function normally. My worlds revolves around the sun. I should be an animal and hybernate in the winter.
This Saturday was beautiful. The sun finally broke through the clouds to come out to play. It stayed out all day. I got to see the sunrise and the sunset. I had almost forgotten the feelling sunshine gives me. How much motivation and how many smiles it sends down. I am very thankful it was created for us to enjoy. My boyfriend and I took a lovely stroll down the city streets to the Satruday Market. We shared the same idea with over a thousand others. Peaple come out of the wood works when the sun is out. The trees were blossoming, the grass was freshly cut, dogs were being walked. I loved the sounds of skateboards flipping and bike chains turning. Music being played by bands and local musicians. It was fun to see people in flip flops and sunglasses again; prancing around on the dry sidewalks looking at and selling eccentric artwork. Button rings, rock candles, silverware sculptures, feather earrings...sunshine called for smoothies, snow cones, and boba tea. The smell of barbeque and chinese noodles filled the air.
Hand in hand I walked around with him for hours, soaking it all in, knowing soon the sun would return to the other side and my veins would eventually grow cold again. But not for long this time, sunshine is on its way to stay.
We headed North out of the city, gaining one yellow sweater and a pair of orange sneekers.

Thank you Sun.


Ale

Lemon

Someone asked me today, if I could be any fruit, what fruit would I be?
At first I thought the question was just a silly way to cure out infinite boredem.
And I was prepared to reply promptly with my favorite fruit and then
I would return with a silly question to fire up this game of funnies.
Then I paused because I remembered I have several favorite fruits.
I found myself hesitant to limit my life to be only one fruit. Obviously this
is my analytical brain taking over the delight of the randonnesss and
impracticality of the simple question. Darn you brain and your ways.
Do I want to be a fruit that everyone likes? Because then everyone would
love me right? But I take the risk of being eaten often. I dont really want to be bitten into.
I think that might hurt. I mean I guess that is the purpose of fruit though...to be eaten.
Or do I want to be a fruit that is really eye-popping in some way?
Just for the trivial fact I like bright colors. I could be a fruit that is in the jungle
that people dont eat often, then  I could live longer. (Normally I wouldnt say fruit is
alive persay but for this topic we will just say they are.) I also had to take into consideration
where each fruit grows. Do I want to live in a tree? or live on a bush or a plant?
Do I want to live in a bundle like grapes or bananas or single like an orange?
I couldnt decide so I modified the question to humor myself.
There obviously isn't a fruit that is superior to others given the fact that all fruits
have their benefits for our health. If you pick one fruit, not everyone is going to like the texture,
the flavor, the scent..
So I narrowed it down to what fruit I am most like.
A lemon.
I dont want to be bitten as much as possible and have a sour emotion most of the time.
I enjoy summer the most and if you add sugar and water to a lemon in the summer time
I can be one of the most popular drinks. I am a fairly busy person and my body often
goes through a lot of stress so I definitely  feel sqeezed dry. I think its safe to say
that lemons are squeezed dry regularly. Im a clean freak and lemons are used in
various cleaning supplies. I think lemons fan base is rightly split. Meaning you dont see people walking around biting into lemons for a snack but lemon juice and the peel are
used for countless different things.
Plus, if I were a lemon, I could cause people to make funny faces when they bit into me. :)
That would be a cool trick..



Ale

Olive Juice

Love is the emblem of eternity; it confounds all notion of time; 

effaces all memory of a beginning, all fear of an end.

Take away love from the world, and our earth would be left a tomb. 

You can feel love in your bones, in your nerves, in your heart. 

It should stem from our core and stay there always.

 No matter who tries to twist it or tear it away. Have love and give love. 

I know I am sounding a little hippy-ish today but I can’t help it. 

It’s more of an aide memoire to myself. In my last post I didn’t really 

elaborate on that quote that meant a lot to me. So I wanted to take the time to do so.

“The greatest thing you’ll ever learn is to love, and be loved in return.” I believe that’s more true than anything.

Love is long-suffering and kind. Love is not jealous, it does not brag, 

does not get puffed up does not behave indecently, does not look for its own interest, 

does not become provoked. It does not keep account of the injury

…It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never fails.

Love is precious.

When all else fails, remember love and all that it is.

Ale

Movie Buff

“The greatest thing you'll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return.”

I watched a flick last night that I haven’t watched in a very long time, 

that I am particularly fond of.

I use to be a huge movie buff and up to date on all the latest and greatest films. 

The past recent years of my life I still have the same passion for the movies

and all that goes into film making, but nowhere near the same free 

time to watch them, I also lack the movie partner I once had. 

I use to dedicate all my weekend hours to movie watching.

My father and I would make a list of movies on Friday night 

that we would watch throughout the weekend. There was rarely 

a time we didn’t get a chance to make it through all of them. 

We would watch all genres. Thriller, Comedy, Drama, Hitchcock’s, 

Sci-fi, Horror, Musicals, what we call “B” movies, anything from 

loved to never seen, we would watch.. It may seem boring or repetitive, 

but I loved every adventure we would encounter with each movie we watched. 

Normally commentary from others during a film can be a major annoyance, 

but my father has a giftedly comedic way about it.

Pause and rewind were popular buttons on the remote. 
We would discuss scenes or break them down to what 
we thought they may mean or the underlying 

message the story teller was trying to reveal. We would pause 

and take breaks from the thrillers so as to not get to jumpy or scared. 

We would pause and laugh and rewind and laugh some more as we 

were both rolling on the ground over something silly someone said in 

a comedy and from then on it would become an on-going inside joke 

between the two of us. We have many, as my dad loves comedy.

There would be times where he would watch a movie before I would and 

on the weekend we would then watch it together. He would prepare me

 for scenes and loved to watch my reaction. He found it pleasing when

 my reaction to a twist in the plot was the same as his. He would call me

 during the week when I was at my mothers and tell me to turn it to certain

 channels and we would watch movies with each other over the phone. 

Before bed at night sometimes he would call me and tell me alternate 

endings he made up to movies that we loved. I guess it wasn’t really the 

movies that we loved as much as the bond we had shared because of them.

We had a few scripts started that we never finished. Just ideas here and 

there thrown together on old yellow crinkled pads .. Little dreams of ours 

that never came true. It’s not disappointing that they didn’t though. We 

never really hoped or thought that they would. It was more so just giving 

our imagination something to run with and fun to think about. We would 

sometimes pretend life was one big movie. And would anyone watch our 

movie if we were in one. I liked to think they would. J

Whenever I do get time now to curl up on the couch, I tend to watch movies

I have already seen, and reminisce on the memories I have of them and the 

feeling they once gave me. I often get songs stuck in my head from the old 

movies we use to watch. Or quotes such as the one I started this post with. 

I wonder sometimes when watching new movies if my father has seen them or 
what he thinks about them if he has. It’s not the same watching movies 

without him sometimes. He could make me laugh like no one else could.

I miss those wonderful never-ending movie marathons..

Ale

Hello March, give me more glitter please.

This morning I woke to an awful shoulder pain
and snow flakes falling on my window glass.
Surprisingly so I wasn’t that disapointed.
Normally I would toss and turn in bed looking for any excuse to call in sick.
"My car is snowed in..There is a wreck in front of my drive way..I slept with my window open and now im sick."
But instead I got up with no complaints.
I was ready to be at work and ingulfed by the ordeals of others rather than my own.
I am sick and tired of my own ordeals. Mainly because I can't do much to change them.
I fear this blog will turn into my diary of frustrated stammers and sad hem haws.
Somedays I guess are better than others.  As will be my blog postings.
I want everyday to be great and happy La-Dee-Dahs,
but who am I kidding having the mentality and naïve nature, reality hits and my heart is flicked off my sleeve again.
Sigh.
My words scream out loud sometimes and they are used and twisted however people
may want them to be. But at least I get them out of my brain so that they aren't fumbling about disrubpting the others.
I rather get the unwanted grey thoughts out and make room for more glittery ones.
Anyways (quick change of pace), Just wanted to say Happy March! :)
More La-Dee-Dahs to come… <3

Clubhouse of awesome-cool dreams

There are many things I miss from my childhood.

Things I can’t do anymore.

Like playing outside in jelly sandals in the dirt, or climbing trees or playing cops and robbers, or having imaginary friends. If I did any of those things now, people would think I just came from the Looney bin ..or needed to go to one. Can you imagine me sitting in a tree barefoot talking to an imaginary Fred?! I took my childhood for granted. How would I have known though; what the world was going to be like. What’s that saying, “If I knew then what I know now..”, I would have played a lot harder and not argued about taking naps.

This Saturday was a blast from the past. I watched Saturday morning cartoons and  built a fort in my living room with my boyfriend.

I know it sounds totally silly and childish, but it was amusing and quite gratifying.

Not only to be goofy and relaxing in PJ's but to watch my boyfriend configure this fort. Using sheets and kitchen chairs with floss and hangers and old strings. He got so into it. (It was pretty comical dear)

Building the fort was surprisingly more tricky than I had expected it to be. Granted it was tricky when I was younger and would take half the day to complete it (probably because I was just as OCD then, as I am now) but I had assumed the “growing up” part of life would have helped with the fort-building knowledge. Now that I think about it, there was never a class for that in school.

Anyways I had forgotten at first how to make a fort. I knew what supplies would be sufficient but couldn’t really remember how to put it all together. It’s like that movie “Look who’s talking now” with John Travolta and Kirstie Alley. Once you hit a certain age you lose the ability to recall certain things a baby would or whatever it was. Hmm maybe that was a different movie?..

I forgot what it was like to be 6 years old and cookin’ up adventure in my fort. Imagining I was in a secret clubhouse and other people could only enter under certain conditions like stating wacky passwords or coming up with ridiculous handshakes.

The fort symbolized a reminiscence of adolescence. I loved it and that I would have someone in my life who loved it as well is great. I recommend everyone relive a part of their childhood that they loved. Why not? It’s pretty cool, if I do say so myself. J

Does anyone remember POGS?

Ale