The Martin/Martin project

As I write this I just finished watching Julie & Julia, a movie that for a time was in my "I want to watch this but I'm afraid I might not like this as much as I think I will" list. It's kind of silly of me because I usually end up liking what is on that list, but we will talk about this later.

I am also on the brink of starting a project. A new project, and people who know me will not think much of this because I plan on begin new projects as often as the sun rises. And then I don't.

Even now all my doubts and fears come. Past projects that have failed (have failed to start, even) come back to me and this little voice inside my head ("little"? It's actually huge) comes and tells me to stop while I'm ahead. To look at the complications ahead and stop now before my losses are far too many to count. To not bother with something that mainly consists on doing something for me and stop and realize how anyone (else) with half a working brain would tell me to stop.

And I'm afraid. I am, and I don't know why because projects that start and never go beyond a few days are all over the internet. As a webcomic reader I have lost count of the amount of comics (some of them promising, some not so much) that simply stopped updating. And I wonder why they stopped updating. And stories of apathy, busy lives, better things to do, and fear come to me. And I wonder if I'm not better off just not dealing with any of that.

But I have kept myself from dealing with "that" (whatever "that" may be) for a long time, and I don't think it's helped me much. In fact I am pretty certain it hasn't. Like, at all. But I keep on keeping myself from it, keep on being afraid of it (of "that"). Even now as I write this blog post part of me is wondering why I write it. Is anyone reading? Does anyone care? Should anyone? This blog, in essence, should be about and for me, and if other people are interested or aided by it then I'm glad but wouldn't it be silly of me to make that my goal?

What is my goal? (Rhetorical question as I either have no idea or could answer this in a thousand different ways.)

But I can also see positive things that may come of it, and positive ways in which it could affect/change me. And, I think, in the end it would be better for me to find out how it would actually affect me, instead of just imagining it and being afraid of what it may bring.

I'm still very, very afraid. But I think I can work with that.

Lesson from Shark

Back in the beginning of the year I sold a short story to a website called Dreamspinner. As you can see, it's a press that specializes on gay fiction. I did it under a pen name and my short story has gotten (mostly) good reviews. They paid me a full thirty-five dollars for said story. When the check came in several friends told me not to cash it. It wasn't that much money and I could instead save it, maybe frame it, and keep it.

What I didn't tell my friends then was that I needed all the money I could get. I hadn't had a job for a while and the little my parents paid me for keeping their shops' papers in check was barely enough for what I needed (and wanted) to spend on.

So I cashed the check and on the same day I cashed the check my tire (the one of the front-right) exploded right as I was arriving at the only place I found here in Mexico City that would take the check I had. Replacing the tire took away basically all of what I had earned in selling that story.

So, that was that, and then lots of things happened and now, recently, the shark has entered my life in an unexpected way. It's been a powerful presence in my dreams, both in its light and shadow aspects.

Sharks (most of them, at least) cannot be still for long. They need to swim in order for water to pass through their gills otherwise they die. Most sharks don't sleep much, they need to keep on moving forward.

Totems (as I believe the Shark to be one of mine) come to one to teach, and after reading some, it seemed rather obvious that the Sharks in my dreams were telling me that I need to keep on moving (metaphorically, although maybe physically in some ways as well) and warning me of what would happen if I didn't.

But just moments ago, as I stood under the shower mulling about what is it that keeps me from going forward (short answer: me) I remembered what happened to my car back in the beginning of the year. And I saw it under a different light.

What I earned from writing my short story allowed me to fix my car and keep on moving.

I don't think I would've been able to see that without Shark.

Again, this is me

I think this blog kind of got away from me. Or rather I let myself run with it in a direction different to what it was supposed to be. My princess side, it seems, is a very dramatic side.

I haven't been on tumblr and here for a while, basically because I had limited access to internet for the past three months. Also, I did not try too hard to come up with idea for this blog. I feel kinda bad admitting it now, but that's the way it was. I was busy with other things, and I don't feel too sorry about being busy with those other things, to tell you the truth.

I'm remaking my online persona. For one, I'm getting rid of the name "Ashley" and its variants (except for the fact that it has become the name under which I publish erotic gay fiction although it's an altered version and no longer has my last name attached to it). Instead I'm going by a name that is an anagram of my real name: Mint Onarel.

Things change. People change. I want to change and also want to feel like I do more. Which means I have to actually do more. I have plans, as I often do, but what can I say? I'm easily distracted.

This blog will remain (for now) and I'll find some use or another for it. I like the tints it has played with so far but I feel that I need a new medium to experiment with a brighter palette.

The Gift of Food

I love food.

I don't necessarily mean the act of eating food, although that can be quite enjoyable as well. I mean food as a form of nourishment, as a ritual, as a creative outlet, and as way to show you care. Food as a symbol in movies and books interests me as well. And the act of cooking is like magic to me.

I love cooking.

And baking. For a while I felt that there did not exist a more sincere way to show my appreciation for someone than baking a cake for said person. For me, the act of making a cake was not only the mixing of certain ingredients in a certain way to achieve a desired result, but a way to give some of my own time to someone else.

I think it all comes back to the ideas of warm and nourishment. The point of gift giving is to give something the other person might find useful and/or enjoyable, taking into account the person's likes and dislikes. To give food as a gift may seem to go against the idea of a durable gift, but by eating your gift that person is receiving nourishment from what you give them. It stays with them. It goes with them.

I don't feel the same way about cooking and baking as I did when I began baking. I can make stuff for myself now, without having the thought of someone else to give to. I can let myself experiment and allow myself to make mistakes. But food retains its magic for me. It's a wondrous thing that you may take unchanged from nature or transformed through heat and it goes into you and allows you to live on.

And this is why I love food, and thinking about food. It's magic.

Fairytale, First Part: Birth

Since not many people know of the fairy blessings and curses meant to aid or harm the Kings and Queens of old, it's not odd to find these peculiar spells working in odd ways nowadays.

So this King and Queen, who had no idea of their ancestry or fairy spells that came with it, received their children happily.

The firstborn was granted the Gifts of the Firstborn, being inherited from both his mother and father. This spell made sure he would be born a male, and grant him bravery, as well as strength of mind, body and heart.

But besides the importance of a male heir, ancient Kings and Queens could not decide what was the second most important thing to have. The King's ancestors had decided to ask for a Spell of the Shield Bearer, to make sure the Firstborn would have a strong, loyal brother. The Queen's ancestors, with an eye on expanding their borders, instead asked for the Damsel Princess Charm, hoping that a beautiful daughter would aid them in their plans.

But as the spells quarreled between them, arguing for what would be better for the family, they failed to notice that the without their choosing, the second child was born, and he happened to be a boy.

The Damsel Princess Charm, would have none of this, and without allowing the Queen or King a say in the matter, it made sure they had a daughter for it to bless. And so the King and Queen were surprised to know that the Queen was with child, and were pleased to see in their daughter such beauty.

And so, the Spell of the Shield Bearer was free to cast itself upon the other boy. And it would have done so, but as he approached him, it noticed that this boy was different.

He had the King's face, yes, but he was quick to smile and had a gentle voice. He looked for amity instead of war, and was quiet instead of rowdy. And so, having only barely touched the boy, the Spell of the Shield Bearer decided that he would not be subjected to this Prince, and instead flew away. Its magic slowly vanished as it did so, and it turned into a bird.

And so it appeared as if the Second Prince would remain unblessed, were not by the spell that was awakened by the absence of the others.

It was a lesser spell, one to modify one of the others rather than the do the whole of the blessing itself. But as it was, the touch of the Spell of the Shield Bearer had given the boy something, and this spell thought the boy deserved better. Even if it only was a little bit. So the spell lightly fell upon the boy, granting him the gifts it had.

As it lay upon the boy, the spell found it comforting, natural, easy. There was something different about him, the spell could perceive. Glowing a slight pink, the spell expanded its paper like wings to completely cover the boy. As it kissed his face, letting its magic envelop his body, the spell realized that this boy was no prince, but a princess.

Smiling slightly, the Charm of Charm set itself upon the boy princess, hoping this small blessing would be enough help for him.

Rant the Geeky One

Another confession: besides Final Fantasy VII, I have never finished a Final Fantasy game. I've watched people finish their games, and I'm content with that. What do I do? I go the ENTIRE GAME and then on the save point before the final boss battle I go back and try to get EVERYTHING in the game.

If you've played a Final Fantasy game, you know this is no easy feat.

So, since I cannot play Final Fantasy XIII, it being released only on consoles I cannot afford for the time being, I am playing Final Fantasy XII. I had been avoiding this game because the main character irks me, but at least the characters around him are agreeable.

What I like about Final Fantasy XII is that you can pretty much customize any character to become whatever you want it to become. I have a very concise idea of what I want in a party of adventurers and so I can work with the game to have not one but two perfect trios comprised of a leader (basically a tank with lots of hp and attack power), a secondary attacker in charge of items (who also steals from foes and has decent magic power), and a mage in charge of healing and handling a long-range weapon as to not be in the middle of the battle.

At first I pretty much just followed a very loose path of what I wanted my characters to learn and often I would forget what it is I wanted and would end up spending my license points in the wrong thing. After I realized this I began making a list where I wrote down the path each of my six characters will go in order to better do their craft. I was aware of the geekiness involved in this, but at least I wasn't making spreadsheets.

However, Final Fantasy XII's monsters aren't the money-rich monsters of other games. Instead, they drop "loot", which you sell in order to get money to buy better weapons, armor, spells, techniques, etc. This loot also becomes neat items in an alternate shop called "bazaar".

There is, of course, a very definite set of rules as to how the bazaar works, and I happened to find a very detailed, intricate guide that showed exactly how many of which items were needed, and for a fleeting moment, I considered the possibility of making a very complex system that would make my looting far more productive than just killing a lot of things, selling what they dropped, and hope for the best.

Then I realized the amount of work that would entail.

At one point I might have done it. When paired with the right people my geekiness level rises and I've been known to keep complex documents about Harvest Moon and Final Fantasy Tactics for the PSOne. But not this time. I will go out of my way to get all the hunts I can, and I will keep on doing the "write down next thing to learn", but I refuse to put so much work into a small part of a game I'm supposed to be having FUN with.

Unless, of course, upon further reading of the long, intricate guide on the many uses of loot, I find an item that changes my mind.

MOAR!

I will admit to you this: I'm curious about polyamorous relationships.

Not open relationships or polygamy, mind you, but relationships where commitment involves more than two people.

There's a story of mine (not written yet, just have details jotted down somewhere) where a couple of lesbians take on an effeminate bisexual boy to spice up their relationship and sex life. The boy basically becomes the most feminine in the trio, taking care of all the "womanly" things around the house, since he works from home. I suppose "story" is too generous a word for it since I never actually extended on what would happen with these characters.

I suppose my curiosity regarding polyamory comes from questioning if I would be able to function inside a polyamorous relationship. I like several polyamorous characters, but only when these characters are committed to each other.

By the way, I have nothing against open relationships, I'm just quite certain I wouldn't function well with one. And I'm perfectly aware there is an overlap between poly and open relationships.

The Me You Never Knew

So, as I was talking to a friend the other day I came to a point where I told him my main problem as of late. And by "as of late" I mean "for quite a while now".

I'm afraid.

Actually, "afraid" doesn't quite do justice to how I feel. I'm terrified. I'm paralyzed with fear. You know the point where you're too afraid to scream? That's where I'm at.

I also feel ridiculously silly for admitting such a thing.

As I talked to him, I realized that this fear was far too much for me to handle on my own. It's a monstrous amount of fear that looms over my every thought and action. That keeps me from doing what I want and from breaking loose of what I need to escape.

I'm so afraid that I'm actually surprised I've managed to get anything done in the past few months. Ever since the end of 2009 there hasn't been a week where one day I just lie on my bed, deciding that maybe if I hide from the world it might decide to go away and just leave me alone. I don't want to admit to my close friends or my family that I have such a hard time getting up in the morning. I don't want it to be known that as of late I've been running away, stalling, refusing to realize that my every action in the past was leading to this one point where I break out of a prison I crafted for myself.

I want out, you see, I desperately want out of this prison. And all I need in order to destroy it is the will, because I know of several ways to be done with it. But what this prison holds up is what I have come to consider the "correct" image of me. Or rather the correct images of me. I can't leave this prison and leave them standing, but to destroy it means to destroy an elaborate illusion of me I began crafting years ago.

Perhaps I could better explain this if I wrote you a fairy tale.

So I will.

He's a Very Nice Prince

[CINDERELLA]
He's a very nice Prince.

[BAKER'S WIFE]
And-?

[CINDERELLA]
And-
It's a very nice ball.

[BAKER'S WIFE]
And-?

[CINDERELLA]
And-
When I entered they trumpeted.

[BAKER'S WIFE]
And-?
The Prince-?

[CINDERELLA]
Oh, the Prince...

[BAKER'S WIFE]
Yes, the Prince!

[CINDERELLA]
Well, he's tall.

[BAKER'S WIFE]
Is that all?

We all have ideals. Concepts in our heads that are perfect and next to which we compare everything that happens in our lives. "Prince Charming" is to every princess the concept next to which every guy will be compared.

[BAKER'S WIFE]
Did you dance?
Is he charming?
They say that he's charming.

[CINDERELLA]
We did nothing but dance.

[BAKER'S WIFE]
Yes-? And-?

[CINDERELLA]
And it made a nice change.

[BAKER'S WIFE]
No, the Prince!

[CINDERELLA]
Oh, the Prince...

[BAKER'S WIFE]
Yes, the Prince.

[CINDERELLA]
He has charm for a Prince, I guess...

[BAKER'S WIFE]
guess?

[CINDERELLA]
I don't meet a wide range.

It's an idea that has gotten quite the bit of critique lately. It has become a sort of fashion to blame fairy tales (and specifically, Walt Disney Animation Studios) for raising the expectations of gullible girls and gay boys to such levels that most males would rather just not try at all rather than spend a lifetime building the body of a Greek god while simultaneously becoming the ultimate genius renaissance man.

[BAKER'S WIFE]
Did he bow?
Was he cold and polite?

[CINDERELLA]
And it's all very strange.

[BAKER'S WIFE]
Did he speak? Did he flirt?
Could you tell right away he was royalty?
Is he sensitive,
Clever,
Well-mannered,
Considerate,
Passionate,
Charming,
As kind as he's handsome,
As wise as he's rich,
Is he everything you've ever wanted?

But so much of what the Prince Charming ideal is includes what we want it to include. It's like Cinderella and everyone thinking that she wants to marry the Prince in the first place. She doesn't, all that she wants is to go to the ball. It's us that want her to marry the prince, because we feel she deserves it.

[CINDERELLA]
But how can you know what you want
Till you get what you want
And you see if you like it?

As far as my Prince Charming is concerned, he is beyond perfect. He's an ideal I've worked on ever since I started storytelling to myself and I pretty much started doing that when I was able to form coherent sentences. It's evolved in such a way that it isn't one ideal, but several, each fitting a specific moment or mood. Some of them only existed for a specific chapter in my life. Some of them borrow heavily from real people and others from characters in books and movies. What all of them have in common is that they all know exactly what I need.

[BAKER'S WIFE]
Would I know?

[CINDERELLA]
All I know is-

[BAKER'S WIFE]
I never wish-

[CINDERELLA]
What I want most of all-

[BAKER'S WIFE]
Just within reason.

[CINDERELLA]
Is to know what I want.

How can I make sense of a guy that is, in fact, many guys? How can I have ideals that contradict one another? How can my needs be so different from one moment to the next that I can't come up with a character that can cope with them without becoming more than one character? How can I enter a relationship with a real person when I can't trust myself to keep my ideas from one moment to the next?

[BAKER'S WIFE]
When you know you can't have what you want,
Where's the profit in wishing?

Whenever someone tells me to get over my Prince Charming ideal and "give a guy a chance" I feel as if I'm being asked to lower my standards at the same time I'm disrespecting whoever I'm giving said chance to.

[BOTH]
He's a very nice Prince...

I don't feel that ignoring what and who my Prince Charming is in favor of whatever guy is around will do me any good, really. My Prince Charming could be a very clear image of what I want, and to turn my back on him would be to ignore what I feel I need. My Prince Charming, after all, is also an extension of me and not a fantasy waiting to come to life. He is part what I expect of others and part what I expect of me in the context of a relationship.

You have to look behind the fairy tale to understand it. Under the fantasy there is a hidden truth, and in order to find it you need to submerge yourself in it.

Lyrics from Into the Woods

Princess-like

Let's talk about something I've been avoiding for a while, and that is the name for this blog.

"Princess" has been a self-given title of myself for quite a while. I might not have called myself one in public until last year, but that doesn't mean I didn't see myself as one. Most of my make-believe games while growing up had me being one, as long as I played with myself (while playing with others, I didn't even try for a "prince" title). And my fascination with princesses comes mainly from the place where most girls got their self-deluded idea of royalty as well: Disney.

Nostalgia Chick did a pretty good video on the whole Disney Princess phenomenon. And it's important to mention that the Disney Princess line was sort of an afterthought after one of the honchos at Disney realized that girls really bought into the whole idea (the word "bought" there also refers to how much money they and/or their parents spent on the idea). For me, the Disney Princess was less a merchandise (probably because there were (or are) no items marketed for boys) and more an ideal. Disney Princesses might've started as complex stories of Damsels In Distress (Snow White, Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty), but I grew up with the ones that would fight for what they wanted. I'd finally find my One True Princess with Belle.

Belle was well-read, snarky, and would wear one of the best dresses ever worn by a princess. She was brave, curious, and the kind of boy I wanted to be when I turned 18.

Yes, boy, for you see, it never occurred to me that Princess had a gender limit. As far as I cared at the time, the only difference between Belle and I was that she was a girl and I was a boy and just as Adam (or the Beast, for those of you who do not know the Beast's name) saw her for who she truly was and loved her, someone would do the same with me. I was as sure of being a boy, as I was sure of being a Princess.

Some years later, Cuarón's A Little Princess would come out in movie theaters, and she would deliver onto me (us) the following line.

Miss Minchin: Don't tell me you still fancy yourself a princess? Child, look around you! Or better yet, look in the mirror.
(dramatic pause goes here)
Sara Crewe: I am a princess. All girls are. Even if they live in tiny old attics. Even if they dress in rags, even if they aren't pretty, or smart, or young. They're still princesses. All of us.

Yes. All of us. Even the ones who are boys.

Sadly, not long after this (which is an event that would later have me wanting to become a filmmaker) I had to face the real world. The real world had very definite standards when it came to its princesses, and I did not even begin to fit any of them.

While the fantasy became silent, it did not become absent. Sometimes things about ourselves that are hidden take on far more power than those that we do acknowledge. The Princess factor in my case sort of helped me through all of my jr. high and high school drama. It was an escape.

It would take until college to retake the whole Princess ideal. What is it? What does it mean for me? How does it affect me and those around me? Am I really a princess?

As the title of this blog might've told you, yes, I do still see myself as Princess-like. At first I commented it among friends as a joke, but it began gaining momentum in my own subconscious. I began to question what it meant to be a Princess, and how my being a male affected it.

My main issue was based on the idea that what is feminine is weak. A Princess can be a strong female figure, but to put any sort of feminine characteristic on a male ideal is to weaken it. Being a feminine boy, I was no stranger to people thinking of me as weak. The only answer to this, I was told, is to become more male (tougher, stronger, less sensitive). But that to me would've meant creating a mask. Strength is not real strength unless it comes from who you are.

But then I realized that for all it's chest-pounding bravado the idea of what is to be "a man" is fueled a lot by fear. Being "a man" is a lot more about what you don't do than what you actually do. So by forgoing that fear I was actually brave and strong. Putting on a mask would only give a face to my fears, showing myself as I am would be to deny fear an entryway.

Right now, what being a Princess means for me is to try and know yourself. It means to keep a sense of wonder about the world. It means to try and be kind to everyone. It means to focus not on the problem at hand but on how to solve it. It means not to underestimate yourself.

I am a Princess, and I say that only half-jokingly.

@spicuzz por que el twitter me da hueva

@mintonarel pues que el cine gringo ha hecho fregaderas por siempre, no se le perdona, ya sabes que asi es.

Hay muchas joyas en el cine gringo. Aún hoy en día hay películas gringas muy buenas. Algunas son independientes, algunas otras logran encontrar el apoyo de una productora grande, algunas son netamente comerciales. No me puedes decir que el cine gringo siempre ha hecho "fregaderas" cuando tu mismo has dicho que hay directores que han logrado "domar" a la industria Hollywoodense. El suceso no es nuevo, y descartar todo el cine gringo como malo es igual de iluso y prejuicioso que pretender que todo el cine mexicano es malo.

Y el decir "así es" es perdonarlo. ¿Por qué aguantamos una película nefasta gringa con excusas como "sólo vine a divertirme", "es mala pero pues se veía desde el trailer", o "es una película dominguera, no la sobreanalizes" pero esperamos que toda opera prima Mexicana sea comparable con Buñuel? Sí de verdad queremos que dejen de traer cine malo (sea de donde sea) lo que tenemos que hacer es dejar de verlo.

@mintonarel y pues la neta ellos tienen más $$ para hacer cine. Aquí es más dificil y está de la shit que se hagan fregaderas.

No es sólo el dinero, es la industria. Estados Unidos tiene una industria cinematográfica estable y por lo mismo se puede arriesgar de manera que el cine Mexicano no puede. Y muchas de esas "fregaderas" que se hacen se hacen por que el director luchó a capa y espada contra fuerzas enormes para lograr hacer su película. La gente que levanta las manos, se hace la víctima, y dice que "es muy difícil hacer cine" no merece hacer cine.

@mintonarel Y lo peor de todo es q basan esas fregaderas en cine gringo esperando recaudar la misma taquilla. Vamos, quieren seguir formulas

No tiene nada de malo seguir formulas, y no es fácil. La gente se las sabe y tiene con que comparar. Además no son formulas que hayan inventado los gringos, sino los antiguos griegos. Se siguen usando por que funcionan.

@mintonarel se hace cine de "formula" para "recuperar" la "inversion". No se hace cine porque se quiera hacer cine de calidad.

Perdón, pero por muy formula que sea el cine, la gente involucrada en general quiere hacer una película de calidad AL MISMO TIEMPO que quiere recuperar su inversión. Se soportan en la calidad de su producto para venderlo. Querer vivir de tu trabajo no es egoísta, es normal.

@mintonarel lo peor de todo es que tambien se hace cine de calidad. Pero los exhibidores no las pasan por miedo al fracaso taquillero.

Lo mismo le pasa a peliculas gringas independientes. El problema del cine en México es que TODO es independiente. No hay industria, y cada vez que se intenta hacer algo para crearla los mismos que trabajamos en el medio parecemos más empeñados en destruir lo que el otro tiene que en ayudar a construir algo de donde todos podamos vivir. También hay mucho cine que no exhiben por que es en verdad malo, y el director automáticamente se pone el manto de la virgen y a llorar como magdalena.

Anyway, cómo dijo @dannker "Esas son pláticas de primer semestre"

I want my money back

It's funny... when I was a kid, I thought grown-ups never worried about anything. I trusted my parents to take care of everything, and it never occurred to me that they might not know how. I figured that once you grew up, you automatically knew what to do in any given scenario. I don't think I'd have been in such a hurry to reach adulthood if I'd known the whole thing was going to be ad-libbed.

Calvin's Dad in Calvin and Hobbes by Bill Watterson

Rant the Second

Here is my thing about blogs, and, well, me. I have a number of obsessions. Blogs are not part of it, but they do help me exemplify some of these obsessions. The biggest one of them being order.

ORDER!

I could blame my dad for this, as he is a total neat freak, but I don't think my dad obsesses as much as I do on the contents of his drawers or closet (also, dad, I was trying to arrange my clothes by color at the age of, what, 8 and you were later surprised by my coming out of the closet?). If I wanted to get all psychological about it I could say that achieving order in those simple things made me feel better about NOT achieving order in other, more important things, but I'm getting off-topic here.

How this affects my relationship with blogs is simple, I want order in them. I DEMAND order in them. I want to know what they are about and how they go being about whatever they are about. I want cohesion, clarity, a topic, an idea that ties everything together, and no funny business about it.

My problem then is that my mind and mood wander so much this cohesion is pretty much on the grounds of "I wrote this stuff" (see exhibit A: my LJ). And what I write can go from Squall x Irvine fluff to really vague love confessions to... erm... more stuff. Also, my LJ did have some "I like this stuff" sprinkled on it.

My second obsession is being liked by everyone. Which in internet is sort of like wanting to come alive out of a forest filled with lions, bears, tigers, wolves, jaguars, badgers, and killer ants. Yes, it would be nice if it happened, but odds are not on your favor. At all. Also, the forest's floor is covered in poison ivy and there's venomous spiders everywhere.

Third and last obsession (I will be sharing with you, at least) is my online persona. I will admit to you people that I want one. But I haven't decided on one, so there's several. There's the quirky one. The woe-is-me one. The bitch. The pseudo-intellectual. And others. And they mix from time to time. It's a work in progress, people.

The point to this rant (and there is one, somewhere, I swear) is that this year I am trying to just quit the whole "I will plan this out better and then do it" thing and instead do things. Writing is one those things and blogging will be part of it. I do not know why I WANT to be a blogger but, apparently, I do. Bear with me people, things might get interesting.

New Year's Revolutions

1. Write more (this blog included)
2. Read more
3. Bake more
4. Exercise
5. Take care of myself
6. Pay attention
7. Learn Japanese
8. Organize myself and my stuff better
9. Manage myself and my money better
10. Reconnect with acquaintances/friends
11. Work.
12. Sing.