09|28|2009
I’ve heard of The Proust Questionnaire, but it wasn’t until I did further research about the history of it that I wanted to fill it out for myself.
Marcel Proust (a French novelist & essayist) took this survey twice, & is considered to have had the most memorable answers of all time. Thus, his name titled the survey, though he was not the one who created it. Proust believed that by answering these specific questions, a person’s true nature could be revealed.
Let’s see if mine will be revealed here.
The Proust Questionnaire:
1. What is your idea of perfect happiness? Being around my mother & sister is happiness; cooking a delicious meal & devouring it with enthusiasm is happiness; being around animals, my dog Sofié, specifically, is happiness; having honest moments with my husband, where we laugh & discover more about each other is happiness; drinking coffee (or tea) out of my favorite cup is happiness.
2. What is your greatest fear? Silly things, like rotten bananas, fish, & heights. But mainly, I am afraid of fear itself.
3. What is the trait you most deplore in yourself? My tendency of worrying to the point of frustration, & my terrible habit of constantly going against — or second-guessing — myself.
4. What is the trait you most deplore in others? Dishonesty, self-centeredness, bad grammar when they know better, & presumptuous judgments.
5. Which living person do you most admire? I have 2 people (I can’t pick just one): my mother, for her wisdom, intuition, & her ability to stay forever young; & my husband, for his ingenuity, his boldness, & his sensitivity. Each of them inspire me greatly.
(continue reading…)
09|25|2009
floral dress is from Forever21; the black vest is thrifted; studded sandals are Steve Madden (& were a birthday gift).
(For more about Jonathan’s birthday, check out my photo of the day.)
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09|22|2009
{photo courtesy of atomicShed.}
I think I’m going through a quarter-life crisis.
I know that I’ve said this quite dramatically before (perhaps even in this blog), but this time I mean it with a severity that is almost palpable.
I wake up everyday with the same question in my mind: What are you really doing with your life, Ev`Yan? Where are you going? I can never answer that question with eloquence. I’m stumped by it, & cannot pinpoint why. It’s the most maddening, the most frustrating thing in the world to have a question stuck in your head with no decent answer, even though it is seemingly on the tip of your tongue.
(continue reading…)
09|15|2009
{That precious little rug-rat is none other than yours truly. In the first picture, I am 13 months old, dressed as a Grown Up for Halloween. In my purse is where the candy went, & everything I’m wearing — other than the tights & shoes — is my mother’s. In the second picture, I’m about two years old, dancing & twirling to a Whitney Houston song, in my “Annie dress.” I went through this phase where I wanted to be Annie, & where Whitney Houston’s CD case — whom I lovingly called “Whee-nit” — was my security blanket.}
[ETA: my mother did a cute little post about my birthday, too, confirming that I was basically a space cadet when I was a little girl.]
It’s my birthday! I am twenty-two today. (& quite overjoyed, because the number 21 was starting to bore me.)
The idea of turning twenty-two didn’t really resonate much with me, until my mother mentioned something about even numbers being her favorite. Now, I have a new appreciation for the number 22, simply because it can be easily divided in half (unlike the number 21, which gives you the sum of 10.5). Not to mention, 22 is the same, no matter if it’s forwards or backwards; whereas 21 is the number 12 when backwards… & that has always left an unsettling feeling in my stomach.
Perhaps I’m over thinking this a little…?
This year, for my birthday, I decided to try something new: I decided to send Jonathan an actual wish-list of things I want. Because I’ve learned — quite the hard way — that while it would be very nice, he truly cannot read my mind, & if I want a specific something, it’s best to just tell him straight away. It saves so much trouble & heartache. I do realize that by telling him exactly what I want, it spoils the surprise for me, but I feel better knowing that I tangibly did something to ensure my own happiness. Because hinting & subtle suggestions get me absolutely no where. (Men can be so helplessly clueless sometimes.)
Regardless, my birthday will most likely be spent quietly & subtly. The only real thing I have planned is seeing District 9 — a film I’ve been aching to see since it came out, but have been holding off because I wanted to watch it on my birthday.
Everything else I’ll leave strictly to chance.
what I want for my birthday from YOU:
- If you’ve never commented here before, now is your chance to un-lurk yourself! Tell me who you are, where you’re from, & how you found this blog. I want to know who you are!
- After you’ve introduced yourself, tell me your most prominent birthday memory/story. What birthday do you remember most? What made it special for you? What was the best gift you’ve ever received?
Thank you so much for the lovely birthday wishes on Twitter. Waking up to so much love made my day that much more special.
09|02|2009
{disclaimer: This is a rant, in which I am over-exaggerating, being quite melodramatic, & venting in the most ridiculous way. Please don’t take anything I’ve said in this post too literally. My disdain for Planned Parenthood isn’t half as bad as I make it seem. Truthfully, I’m just happy to have actually written something. It’s been a long time since I’ve been able to do so, & I’m grateful that my literary voice was stimulated today. Oh, & I bash Friends a little at the end. Don’t stone me!}
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I accidentally intentionally missed my annual exam appointment today. I got so caught up in other [less than important] things that I basically (& I say “basically” loosely) forgot, & I did nothing to remind myself. I have little to no remorse about missing my appointment. I hate pap smears with a passion that is almost tangible. I’d rather have a cavity filled than a pap smear. (& that’s speaking volumes, because I absolutely loathe dentist appointments.)
This isn’t to say that I won’t reschedule my exam; I will. I just didn’t feel like dealing with it. Not today, at least.
What makes these exams so dreadful is that because I don’t have affordable health insurance — & I haven’t had it for about 4 years — Planned Parenthood is the only form of medical care I receive. Not that I don’t appreciate Planned Parenthood; they’re a great organization. They’re just not very… thorough. I once had to get a pap smear redone because the technician failed to collect enough specimen. & while everyone makes mistakes, NO mistakes should be made if it deals with my legs in stirrups for the second time in a week because someone didn’t collect enough specimen in my cervix.
Not to mention, when I walk into a Planned Parenthood facility, I feel I’m treated like a clueless, childish, & careless teenager. I’m none of those things; I just can’t afford health insurance like the rest of the American population, so I must resort to slightly mediocre medical treatment from “professionals” who don’t collect enough specimen during a pap smear. (I guess it’s a little obvious that I’m still slightly bitter about that experience.)
(continue reading…)
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