Jewelry, and Leather, but Not Lace

Jewelry.  First thoughts are the ring on a finger, necklace, or earrings.  My definition of jewelry is a little loose.  Nose studs, nipple rings, implants, is it a bend barbell or straight? Looking through a drawer I found a couple of studded leather neck-bands (one with spikes), leather wrist-cuffs, and some other heavy metaled jewelry.  I have plenty of body jewelry that I dig through on a regular basis; but today was different. 

I use to have eight or nine piercing in my face, all at the same time for a few months there.   That didn’t count my ears.  That would have put me over 20.  It’s been over a year sense I took them out.  I don’t miss them.  I don’t think about it that often. I don’t even think about it when I dig through my old body jewelry.  So why was today different?

Today I tried on those different leather and studded jewelry.  It wasn’t me or was it not me anymore?  I looked at my picture from when I joined my sorority.  I was blonde, all those piercings, tan, I looked bad.  Why did I ever think it looked good?  Because of a guy.  I think he would have taken me even without the purple hair, piercings, and with a little more meat on me.  I looked like Lindsay Lohan.  Skin and bones. 

How often do we change who we are to fit into a group, or just fit with one person?  A lot.  I’ve seen it and I’ve done it.  I was so unhappy as that person, leather and studs, chains and piercings.  I did it to fit in.  I didn’t use to be that kind of person.  And I’m not that kind of person now.  I know I lost myself for a few years there.  I don’t know how it happened and I’m not sure how I got it back.  That is a topic for later. 

When I looked at that picture of the blonde, pierced, tanned person I thought, “man I was ugly.”  I mean, I was beautiful but I had made myself ugly.  That studded person wasn’t me.  Never was.  It was the first time I ever understood what people meant when they said, “you’re so pretty; why do you do that to yourself?”  I did it for all the wrong reasons.

A small part of me wishes I had never done it; but most of me is glad I did.  I wouldn’t be having this revelation if I hadn’t.  How different of a person I would be now if I didn’t.  I don’t what to change where or who I am now.  I’m happy.  With my life, where I live, what I do with my days.  I wouldn’t be here now if I hadn’t lost myself when I was younger.  The brightest side of having been lost is when I get to feeling board with myself, I can look back on my youth and remember why I’ve chose to settle down, but only a little.

McD's Assignment

Katharine Hubbard

You know that lone person sitting in the corner of the bar drinking by themselves? That’s me; I’m back home for Christmas and not enjoying myself. I hate Christmas and I’m pretty sure this place is the 9th circle of hell. I’m watching the crowd in the bar. I’d call it a dive bar but every bar in this town is a dive. I’m drinking a Martini, flavor – redneck zombie, how fitting. Oh, and chill the goddamn glass! Were these bartenders trained by monkeys? Note to self – start taking shots, the human stupidity will hurt less.

Ah, shit. Someone is walking this way. A guy. Don’t make me throw down fistacuffs, bitch.
“Hay, you’re Alysia, right?” he ask.
Alysia is dead asshole. I’m her doppelganger. “Yeah, and your are?” was my actually response.
“I’m blah blah blah,” he says, “remember that time in high school that we skipped lunch, smoked pot, and hit up McyD’s?”
Yeah, I remember that day. It was called every f’ing day of high school, jackass. You were involved on one occasion and you expect me to remember you? My actual response “Yeah, excuse me please, I need to go to the bathroom” and I walked off. I just saw my friend walk in the door, thank god, I make a beeline towards her.

The guy did bring up a good point. I’m getting kind of drunk. McyD’s is going to sound really good in about 2 hours. We’ll have to find a sober person to make a burger run. Maybe the baby sitter will do it if we tip her extra.
I’ve never been sober while eating at McDonalds. Come to think of it, I’ve never seen a sober person there either.
Damn it. The babysitter is drunk. I guess I’ll just have to wait till the hangover kicks in and I can drive myself. McDonalds is also the perfect cure to a hangover.

The Runaway Human

I never ran as a kid or in high school. I walk fast. I’m in a hurry to get somewhere but I don’t know where. I took up running because I’m a runner. As in, I run away from things. I’m not trying to get anywhere, hence why I don’t know where I’m going; I’m just trying to get away. From places, people, memories. I’m not the only one. I’m just one of the few who admit it. Who even knows they are doing it.

I was running from places that held bad memories. My friend died on that street. Ran over by a cement truck. I use to do drugs there, there. There and there. Oh, and over there. Lets not forget the boyfriend who won’t let me live down the fact that I dumped him on his birthday. I was 19, high out of my mind, and we had only been dating for 3 months. How many times do I have to say I’m sorry? One, five, is ten not enough? Don’t say you’ve forgiven my past then continue to throw it in my face. I’ve admitted that I fucked up, that I feel bad, that if I could change it I would, that I have remorse that I was such a shit piece of a human being. Once you finally change your life it gets old being reminded of the person you use to be.

I feel bad about what I’ve done in the past and that’s why I changed my life. I cleaned up, cold turkey, no rehab here. I went back to college. I got involved with things, people, places. I was an RA, a sorority girl, I have friends I say “I love you” to. I graduated. I started thinking about how my actions would affect other people before I did them. I’ve grown as a person. I’ve also learned that those who truly love me have forgiven me for what I’ve done. Even though I’ve never properly apologized to them.

Yet I still felt like I needed to run. The more my life changed, the better it got, the more I felt the need to run. I tried to start my life over when I went back to college. All of the people I meet there let me leave the past where it belonged. But I was still to close to where I had caused my shit storm. People who knew me then, places I had to drive by from then. I just wanted to start over. I wanted the chance to be the person I can be and not the person I was.

When you hit that point only one thing to do. Change your name and move to California.

I moved to Cali and I stopped running. Literally. I didn’t have the motivation anymore. I had finally stopped figuratively running from my life. But when a situation arises that I want to run from. I run. And while I’m running the hills of Berkeley I let my mind race. I sort through what it is I’m running from. Once it all makes sense I don’t fell like running away any more. I’m finally being the person that I want to be. I can’t forget my past but I’m free of the ties that bind me to a person I no longer am.

Was told this was a bad ad because it "tells the person what to do" It still needs body copy.

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