My Compliment Pencils

For Valentine’s day, my parents sent me a card with some money in it. They do this every so often and it’s really nice. I buy something cool and then I get to thank them for the gift that they sponsored.

This year, I bought myself a notebook (that I really didn’t need) and a set of pencils.

These pencils were $10.

No, they were not made of gold or anything.

But they have really nice compliments on them. Things like “You Go Girl!” and “You Make It Rain Rainbows”.

I love these pencils. Honestly, I would use them all the time, but the bank will not accept checks written in pencil. (Disappointing, I know.)

Now why is it important for you know about my compliment pencils?

Let me get there.

If you ask anyone I’ve ever dated, they’ll probably tell you I’m not the nicest person ever. I am very sarcastic and sometimes get snappy. Rude on a bad day.

But these pencils remind me to be nice to myself. This is a hard thing to do sometimes. It’s way easier to call myself stupid and not think about how I can improve in the future. Admitting that I made a mistake and need to learn from it is difficult (as I am sure at least one other person can relate to) and it’s way easier to hate myself.

I’m not saying this for people to be like, oh don’t hate yourself, you’re awesome *finger guns* *wink*.

I’m saying this because it’s true. I hate myself on occasion. Not always and I do keep a lid on it. So don’t worry about me at the moment.

The point is that these pencils remind me to think nice things about myself, even if it’s just when I’m writing in my planner. Just holding the pencil gives me a little boost of confidence. I can handle this. I can do whatever life throws at me.

The point is that I haven’t died yet, so I don’t think my insecurities are going to kill me. Not with my pencils at my side.


Tips for Sadness

The best advice I have ever received about feeling sad was to drink something hot (hot chocolate or tea was the suggestion) and listen to The Beatles’ “Here Comes the Sun”.

This is something I forget about often, then will suddenly remember, as the song always seems to come when I need it. And when it came on a few minutes ago, I did really need it. I’d been ruminating and sipping tea, not even realizing that I was sad. Not noticing that I needed it.

And that’s ok. Emotions are weird and not always on the forefront of our mind. Something happens and suddenly we realize we’re really happy or really sad.

That song did it for me.

But, sipping my tea and listening to that song reminded me that hey, the sun is gonna come out and I can make it through whatever life throws at me. I have so far.

And I think that’s really important for people to remember.


It’s Hard to Be Creative When there Is So Much Netflix to Watch

I have two jobs.

One that gets me out of bed at 6:30 in the morning. (That’s not that early, stop complaining! Shut up, you. This is my blog.)

The other that frequently keeps me in the office till 8pm or later. (That’s not that late! What are you still doing here? Go away!)

Usually the first thing I do when I get home is sit on the couch. Ok, first I find my cat and ask him about his day. But then I sit on the couch and my brain is tired. Not fried, but tired. I don’t want to do anything taxing.

My computer is so far away and I am already sitting down.

But the remote is so close and honestly, haven’t all stories been told? Aren’t we all sick of the blog posts like, I’ve got so much writer’s block! and Being creative is hard! I am. And I know I feel pathetic when I’m forcing myself to write something that I don’t FEEL.

So I’d much rather sit and rewatch Scrubs or 30Rock or Brooklynn NineNine. These are infinitely better than any idea I could force out of my fingers at the moment, right?

Plus there are always new movies or shows and I also have Hulu and Amazon and HBOGo and I could always rewatch SNL or John Oliver and…. Ok, I’ve got a serious problem. “Maybe it will inspire me!” I try to lie to myself. I know it will not, because I will be a zombie staring at the screen. Also because, as I said, my computer is SO FAR AWAY.

My mom is a writer. She writes every day and says that’s the key to writing. “If you do it every day, it becomes habit and then that’s when you write your book.” I think that’s a Stephen King quote or something. But I don’t know how she does it.

Wait, I do. She wakes up at 4AM every day.

That’s not gonna happen for me. Not when I’m already feeling bleh from my day to day life.

But I guess what I can do is the small stuff. Maybe not daily, but I can at least be faithful to a schedule. Write down the little ideas that I have before they blow away like wisps in the wind. (See? Being creative isn’t that hard! OH MY GOD STOP IT)

So please, stick around. I don’t have a good track record for following through, but I hope to have matured since the last time I posted fanfiction.

Words of Wisdom

When I find myself in times of trouble, David after Dentist comes to me. Whisper words of wisdom: “Is this gonna be forever?”

These are words I find myself muttering to myself nearly every day. Everyday I wake up, anxious and angry, wondering when things are going to magically turn around.

Obviously they aren’t. That’s the cruel trick that adults never told us kids. Stuff doesn’t get better, some of it gets easier right before other stuff gets harder.

But back to the wisdom contained in that circa 2008 youtube sensation.

Yes, this is real life. Yes, this is gonna be forever. And yes, you can actually see things.

The first time I watched the video, I honestly just laughed. I never saw the wisdom of this child, freshly anesthetized and scared of the world. After a few viewings and years of being out of college, it hurts.

Why is this happening to me?

I could go on, honestly I’m looking for another excuse to watch the video again. But I won’t. Cause the thing is, we’re not children fresh out of oral surgery. We have to be “adults” now. Or at least, our closest approximation to adults that we can manage. That seems to be sufficient, at least till I turn 30.

I have no other wisdom to impart, I’ve spent too much time on youtube tonight. Now it’s time to drink my tea and reread all of Lemony Snicket’s A Series of Unfortunate Events.


David after Dentist:

Absolute Proof

I have known for a long time that I am not a dog person. I don’t like the drooling or the barking or the fact that they always seem to smell. Or the shedding. Oh my god the shedding! (Don’t at this point be like Oh but Margaret, cats shed too! I know. I am very aware. But IT’S DIFFERENT.) Also, please don’t lick my face. I feel this is not a request I should have to make.

If you’re still reading, hurray! I hope I have not alienated all of the two people who might be reading this. Please keep going, I’m sure I’ll get to the point eventually.

I have worked for a dog training school for a few years of my life, so it’s not that I haven’t been around “good dogs”. I have. There are three or four specific dogs that I would take home in a moment. But only those. Other than that, I pet them and try to move away before they think they can start licking me. But Maverick, Misha, and some other dog (I’m sure there’s at least one more, but I can’t think of them right now) were sweet and well trained and beautiful. BUT THAT’S NOT THE POINT.

What is the point, you might ask? LET ME GET THERE.

My point is that my cat attacked me last night and within an hour I was cooing and trying to pet him again.

It’s kind of like when someone says “Oh I don’t like kids”

And someone else replies “It’s different when they’re your own”

Usually this gets a big eye roll and I snarkily text a friend about how I’m not having children, so fuck that.

But here I am, having to defend the fact that my cat ripped up my arm and I still love him. Is my cat my child? No, he’s more like a nephew I have to take care of while his mother finishes college. Am I a saint? Well, I wouldn’t call myself that, but you can.

But back on topic: I like cats because they remind me of myself. This cat specifically. He’s independent (or he pretends to be) and skittish and gets whiny when he’s hungry. Ask anyone and they will agree that these are my main personality traits.

Cats don’t like to be forced into things. They will fight and claw and bite just to be in charge of themselves. They will glare and hate you until they decide to love you. Much like myself.

I like to be independent until I need something else, so then I’ll cuddle up next to someone in bed. Wait no, that’s the cat. I don’t like people in my bed. Only cats and books.

Overall, I see myself in cats. I prefer quiet and calm, so I can curl up in a ball and fall asleep. No, that’s not the cat. That’s me this time. Dogs are loud and get in the middle of everything. The only time I can count on the cat getting in the way is when I’m watching TV or when I’m doing yoga. So if I have to put up with scratches like these every so often, I’ll do it for a little mini me running around.