Lost causes, advice and some wisdom.

I'll fight to the death to save a lost cause.

Of this, I'm quite sure.

It's a ridiculously bad flaw, and one that I'm fully aware of.

Yet, if push came to shove, I'd still do it.

Because I'm obviously broken and/or mentally deficient in other ways. Either way, I'm working on my very own lost cause at the moment. One that is sure to induce lots of metaphorical blood, maybe a little sweat and most assuredly tears of the very real variety.

My advice: never become involved with someone who is still in love with someone else.

It never ends well, and it would appear that it's rather an obvious situation. However, easy smiles and soft eyes can do a lot to dissuade even the strongest individual of the obvious.

And here's my follow up advice: never remain involved in that person's life, while continually fanning the flames of your own desires.

That always backfires. You will betray your own feelings, and most likely that person will pity you rather than sweep you off your feet.

It will be humiliating. There are no other terms for it. Trust my own judgement. Of course, if you continue to foster your own feelings - eternally waiting around for some sort of justification - then fine. Your willing (almost too willing) interest in their lives and wellbeing will most likely be interpreted as the dedication of a great friend.

Which is exactly what you wanted, right? No? Then at least you've not lost someone who obviously meant something to you in the first place.

That can be counted as a "win" in the eternal struggle between winning and losing.

So, at length - don't let your heart lead your head, but don't cut yourself off from the situation either. Just use a little caution and reason before you open yourself up to that certain-someone.

Learn from me. I'm a fountain of painfully-begotten knowledge.

(reposted on my livejournal as well)

Engagement-ring heist, abnormality and social convention.

I've decided that trying to get into beach body condition is hard. I still feel flabtastic, but I also feel healthier, so I guess that's okay. And-

Wait a second - hold on -

OKAY. That's it people. If one more person I know gets engaged I'm going to go on an engagement-ring heist. Understand? For Pete's sake.

Sigh.

Okay. I'm done raving over that tidbit. Really. Sort of.

But it does seem as if everyone keeps telling me how natural, how normal it is for someone my age to be single. Then why, may I ask, is it that everyone else my age seems to be not only in a committed relationship, but also tying that oh-so-sacred knot as well? Are you honestly telling me that I'm the normal one and everyone else is abnormal? That seems a bit far fetched. And trust me, I love far fetched tales, but this one seems a bit stretched even for my tastes.

So world, I'm pretty sure that it's mostly abnormal for someone my age to be single - and to have been, for the most part, single for two years prior to this moment. Awesome.

Well, I guess I never have been one for maintaining social conventions. So this isn't anything terribly new for me. I suppose I will survive - survive right into my grey-cat-years, that is.

(Take that, Grandma.)

But seriously, it's not so bad being single. I have a lot more me time, which I adore - of course. Being mildly self-centered helps in that regard. Plus I get to peruse for cute people any time I want, without feeling any guilt afterwards. Huzzah. Also? I can do anything I want for myself, and not have to consult with anyone else about it. Chya. That's pretty fabulous if you ask me, which I know you were going to.

Of course, there are downsides too - like being lonely. But then I remember how awesome I am, and I just talk to myself. Problem solved.

Overall, I'm still a little sleep deprived from the past few nights of insomnia, so I'm not entirely sure writing this was a wise decision. If you walk away from this with anything meaningful, congratulations.

Parents, homesickness and suffocating love.

Home sweet home.

Right.

Well, I've made it home for the big superficially 'religious' Easter celebrations (i.e. a four day weekend woo!). I thought it'd at least take years, if ever, to get over the homesickness when I'm away. But you know what? I now feel claustrophobic at home. I know they don't mean to suffocate me, but parents are just always there when you're home.

They're like that piece of furniture that you're almost certain you had put outside to be picked up by the garbage man (even if they keep telling you the city doesn't take old furniture). Somehow, it's crept back into your living room with all the audacity of a tacky orange ottoman.

Not that you hate that ottoman. In fact, that particular ottoman reminds you of all your good childhood moments, and makes you feel safe and protected. But it really doesn't match anything you own anymore, and it can be such an eyesore - the way it looks in the big picture just doesn't suit your everyday needs anymore.

But maybe you could keep it around; revamp it with a new fabric - help it try to fit in, even if the style is so out of date that it's practically obsolete.

Yeah, it's sort of nice to have it around - I mean, it keeps you grounded. And that's a feeling that can be easily lost in a world where you're just another fresh (haggard) faced student in a sea of forty other similar faces. Sometimes you just need that old ottoman to remind you of your roots - and to remind you of just how far you've really come.

Suffocation doesn't sound so bad, not when you know it's suffocation by love.