Artificial Sweeteners could be the new Botox

ATTENTION: ALL HOUSEWIVES OF L.A. AND O.C.!!!!!!

NO THIS IS NOT A CASTING CALL...
(I don't work in television anymore, Remember?)

Put down the Botox and exit the clinic! I may have just discovered the cure to premature aging!!!! My apologies go out to all of those poor children suffering from Progeria, as this is only a remedy for the most shallow and superficial, not for those who are truly ill and suffering.

Did you know that aspartame could turn into formaldehyde when exposed to extreme heat? When I first heard this I was terribly concerned due to the fact that I consume obscene amounts of diet soda and sugarless gum on a daily basis. I started to think about the gum that I keep in the console of my Prius at all times and I then I started to think about how my insides were probably as pickled as that fetal pig my high school anatomy teacher had sitting on his desk year after year. Then I realized that this might not actually be a problem, but rather, an AMAZING discovery. If simply consuming overheated aspartame can preserve our insides, why can't we use it to preserve our outsides as well. Perhaps a soothing shower gel or exfoliating scrub with green tea and formaldehyde? Or a facial mask made up of your favorite flavor of Orbit Gum?

Americans spend millions of dollars on their beauty regimens every year, and advertising companies spend billions trying to convince Americans that they are nothing without their youth and beauty. One of the things health experts and dieticians all seem to agree on is that artificial sweeteners are bad for you. Almost every fad diet out there is trying to steer Americans from the one thing that just might actually be able to help them maintain their youthful appearance. I am beginning to believe that there may be a bit of a conspiracy here... If this kind of propaganda is able to keep us all from discovering the "Fountain of Youth" that is aspartame, then the demand for beauty products and their multi-million dollar advertising campaigns will continue to flourish and infiltrate our society. Americans will continue to spend millions searching for a remedy that has been sitting right under our noses this whole entire time.

In the mean time I am considering an early retirement and moving to Palm Springs with all of the other mummies. See, I am actually 85 years old, but all that gum chewing and Diet Coke drinking has helped preserve my body in its current 26-year-old state. I should probably warn you, however, that there needs to be a study conducted to test the possibility of brain damage from prolonged exposure to these chemicals. I may be 85 and look 26, but I actually have the mental capacity, capability, and maturity of a 13 year old.

"Real" Rockstars Won't Date Me Because...

I'm not a beautiful waif who has graced the covers of Victoria's Secret, Glamour, Vanity Fair, or Playboy. I do not come from rock 'n roll royalty, nor am I a petite Asian chick who is looking to fill the role in your M. Butterfly fantasy.
I am not content to sit back and manage your domestic responsibilities (i.e. paying your rent and walking your dogs) while living vicariously through your epic journey of sexual exploits and drunken deviance. I have my own dreams, ambitions and goals; I am on my own path of self discovery and destruction.
I can see through your rugged exterior right down to the insecure and awkward boy who is overcompensating for the fact that he couldn't get laid in high school. Underneath all your tattoos and your strategically disheveled appearance lies a little boy who is screaming out for someone to worship him and equating that with love.
No matter how talented and attractive you may be, you will never impress me enough or make me jealous enough to satisfy your sick need for external validation.
I am way too badass for you: I've been in way more bar fights than you, made out with more chicks than you, I have better stories to tell, and let's face it, I can kick your sorry fucking ass!
It wasn't your musical ability that attracted me to you. It was your dark and mysterious eyes, but then I realized there was nothing at all behind them.

And maybe some faith would do me good

Baby, lay your head on my lap one more time
Tell me you belong to me
Baby say that it's all going to be alright
I believe that it isn't

Ahh... Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned (A.K.A. Fiona Apple)

I Always Knew I Deserved Better, But Now I'm Finally Starting To Believe It

When I was a kid I had this record that I'd play over and over again. No, NOT the soundtrack to Flash Dance, although that was amazing and my sister and I would play that one repeatedly as well. (What can I say, we're nerds.) It was Abbey Road by the Beatles and my favorite song on that Album was "Here Comes the Sun". My dad would sing that song a lot and it was comforting. One day I went to play the record only to discover that it was scratched. The record was ruined and the song would never be the same for me again, but for some reason I couldn't bring myself to actually get rid of it. Every once in a while I would hold my breath and take the record off the shelf and attempt to play it, hoping that the scratch would have some how disappeared. The scratch was always still there, and I was always disappointed. Why didn't I just get rid of it and buy a new one? I guess I never threw it away because it had sentimental value. It held such promise and the idea of it actually working gave me hope, but ultimately it let me down. I haven't thrown it away, I don't think I ever could, but I am done trying to play it. I've moved on. I'm not counting on the failed promises of that old broken record.

LAZY SUNDAYS....

I just spent the entire morning lying in bed with my adorable puppy... until she decided she was going to pee all over my sheets. Now I'm up, I've got homework and laundry to do and I have to go for a run. I'm watching the Oscars with my roommate later... mmmmm Javier....

Tattoo tomorrow!!! YAY!!!

A Woman Needs a Man Like a Fish Needs a Bicycle...

I think I might have had a break through at therapy last night. My therapist thinks there are two things that are making me so unhappy: my mother and my job. I am working as a nanny to put myself through school AGAIN, and I am going to school to make my mom happy. The job isn't bad, it pays well and the kids love me but I am 26 years old and I need to have adult interaction in my life. Right now, I spend my entire day with a two year old and a three month old and I come home and take classes online. My social life is suffering, BIG TIME!!!!

 I am going back to school to become an elementary school teacher. I like kids, I'm good with them, but is that really what I am meant to do? School isn't such a bad thing, I can always do something with a masters in elementary education. I can start a theater and drama program for kids and I have always wanted to start a nonprofit organization that helps to keep the arts alive in public schools. So why am I so uncomfortable with the situation I'm in. 

One thing that does make me happy at the moment... my new tattoo. I'm getting it done this week (hopefully). It's going to be a fish riding a bicycle. It's a Florence Kennedy quote and a line from an old U2 song. It is totally representative of how I am feeling right now, like a fish out of water. 

Oh Therapy, Can You Please Fill the Void?

So, after I lost my job back in August I've been struggling to figure out what it is that I really want from life. I thought that I was going through the same shit that everyone in their mid twenties goes through... "Who am I? Why am I here? What does it all Mean?" I decided to see a therapist to try and sort it all out and get a little bit of career advice as well. No big deal, right? WRONG! The therapist did not have encouraging words for me. At the end of my first session she told me that I was in serious need of therapy, that I should be seeing a counselor twice a week and she even referred me to a psychiatrist to prescribe me  medication in order to speed up the process of my "treatment". 

So apparently I need to be "fixed". I didn't even know I was broken. Sure I was a little mixed up, but it's not like I was on the verge of suicide. I was simply trying to gain a little perspective. Now I am starting to feel even more confused than I did before. It's not a good feeling at all and it's costing me a fortune!

I'm not sure that I am going to continue with the "therapy" at the moment. I decided that since writing has always been one of my best outlets for venting my frustrations, I'd start a blog. No I am not a narcissist My life is actually quite boring and I don't expect anyone to care. I've created this blog for the sake of my own (in)sanity and my bank account as well. Anyways, I'm going to be late for my next therapy appointment...