Today I woke up early and went shopping…just to make the shopping experience not so ordinary, I decided to see how long I can keep smiling. I arrived at my first stop, parked my car and with my tattoos blaring put on a huge smile and walked in. Now, I point out that I have tattoos because let’s face it people judge and probably for good reason. Historically, people with tattoos have not always been known to lead good clean lives nor are they known for being all that nice and approachble. I continued to browse through the store with that smile on my face, and I realized that just the mere act of smiling put me in a pretty good mood. Although, I did keep getting approached by sales associates asking me if “I’m finding everything okay.” They were most likely wondering, “What the hell is she smiling about?” I went to pay for my things and again the cashier asked if “I found everything okay.” I replied with an enthusiastic, “Yes, I did!You’re sale here is awesome! Thank you for asking!” and continued to smile. He smiled back. When he told me the total, I started to pull out my cash when I realized that I was about $1short and I couldn’t scrounge enough change fast enough. “Oops! Sorry, I guess I’ll have to use my card.” I said and tried to pull out my card quickly. “That’s ok.” he said and rang it up. “Wow! Thanks!” I said and quickly picked up my stuff and left. Now I know, it wasn’t much change that I actually did owe him, but the gesture was nice. At the next store, I walked in and immediately ran into two old women. I nodded to them and said a polite “good morning.” They returned it and went along their merry way. I continued my experiment and wore that smile all through the store. Now, either, it was just way too early in the morning and there wasn’t enough to do for the sales associate or it was just a coincidence that everywhere I was, there she was. I was getting the feeling I was being followed by her and not for a good reason. I looked her in the eye with the smile on my face. She didn’t smile back. Hmm. I couldn’t imagine what was going through her mind. I don’t really carry a purse, so it’s not like I would be able to steal anything effectively. Maybe the smile on my face was creeping her out but like a moth to a bright light, she just was just drawn to it. I looked her up and down. She’s young. I would put her between 17-19 years old. Just by their general nature, teenagers are suspicious of adults. I thought to put her mind to ease by asking her where the jeans are. It took her a few seconds; that’s when I realized not only is she young, but she’s new too. She has no idea what to do. I thanked her for all her help and left the store. Outside the store, I shrugged it off. Not everyone reacts to the smile the same way. I continued my smiling game at the next store. I was able to find some more tops I wanted to try on. In the dressing room, I noticed that one of the blouses had make-up all over it anda button was missing. I didn’t even get to try it on. When I went to make my purchases, I brought over the damaged blouse to the cashier and told her that they may not want to put it back out on the racks and I smiled. “Aww” she said, ” I am so sorry about that. Yeah. Sometimes people can get sloppy.” she said and she smiled. I decided on two more blouses at that store and she gave me a discount. “Cool! Thanks!” I said and left happy with my purchases. At the final store, I was actually looking for something specific. A pair of pants I had bought there previously. I found some that were similar but not the ones that I wanted. I have to give the award for excellent customer service to this girl because she went out of her way to try and provide me the pants that I was looking for, even calling a store in Nebula (??), California for them. She asked if I wanted to order them, and even after all that she did for me, I said no but with a smile on my face. She wrote down the sku# and told me to keep it and if I ever change my mind that I could always order it from the store. I agreed that was a good idea and left the store; smiling. As I got into my car and headed home, I felt a sense of accomplishment. I set a goal, albeit it a strange one and completed it; and I got some positive reactions too. There’s always a reason for the way people reacted to me like 1. it’s their job to provide excellent customer service. So maybe from their perspective, today was nothing new. Maybe more importantly was my perspective and how I was reacting to them. This is still all really brand new to me; interacting with people, being social, and not having these crazy/ violent mood swings. But as I drove away, I felt as if someone had given me a shot of saccharine. I overloaded on the ”sweet stuff” of roses and daises and rainbows and kittens. I sucked my cheeks in as I sucked on a cigarette; I guess those muscles haven’t been used that long in awhile. I turned on the radio and  ”Rage Against  the Machine” was playing. Perfect.

“ Somewhere it must be time for penitence/ Gardening at night is never where.” (REM)

This is a change. I’m not depressed today, nor am I writing about it. I realized, most of my postings are depressing. But right now, I’m “rapid cycling” or experiencing mania. One of my reasons for not wanting to take medications was the possibility that I might lose my “manic episodes”. I didn’t want to lose my “highs”. Most people with bipolar disorder would agree; the “highs” are awesome! But the “lows”…. well….

What’s this like? It’s the best thing ever! I have tons and tons of energy! You could pretty much tell me anything and I will laugh. The whole world is hilarious right now! I want to talk to someone. Anyone! Let’s talk! My mind is going a million miles a minute; so is my mouth as you can tell with the use of hyperbole. I keep getting up and bothering people. I got so much done today. I am constantly cleaning, organizing, and re-organizing. I almost ran 5 miles today, non-stop. And I wasn’t even out of breath or tired. I just had to stop because my legs started to get sore. Bartending at the wine bistro today, I had a party of 14 come in right before my shift ended.Normally, I hate waiting on such a large group of people; they’re un-organized, everyone wants to pay separately, they’re demanding and rude. But I went out of my way to provide excellent customer service. And I did! I was very patient with them, even though they had no idea what they were talking about when it came to wine. I catered to their every request with a smile on my face. Even as I was serving them, I realized how I was acting and how they were reacting to me. As I was leaving, the whole party said, “Bye Vivien! Thank you!” It felt really good. I wish I could be like this all the time. I’m fun to be around, I’m witty and entertaining. I am the life of the party. But I know, like all parties, they have to end.

It’s been awhile since I’ve experienced mania like this. There could be a couple of reasons for this; 1. My doctor changed my medication again and it’s triggered a manic episode or 2. The new medications aren’t working. It’s taken every ounce of my will to sit here and complete this posting. I have way too much energy to just sit and concentrate on this…so I won’t.

Of course it doesn’t make any sense; it doesn’t have to.

“Tell me why?/ I don’t like Mondays/ Tell me why?/ I don’t like Mondays/ I want to shoot the whole day down.” (Boomtown Rats)

I’m never in the moment. I don’t enjoy myself. It’s only after the situation, when I replay the events back in my head that I realize how much fun I did have. But it’s not fair. I feel robbed of it every time. The only time I ever feel like I’m in the moment and really “experiencing” a feeling is when I’m depressed. And right now, I’m depressed. It’s crazy how quickly it happened. Just about 10 minutes ago, the TV was on and I was planning out my day. All of a sudden a huge wave of sadness just engulfed me. I don’t know why. I tried my best to ignore it or shake it off. I continued to flip through the TV channels; too late…it’s taken over. Most people have reasons to be sad or “triggers” if you want to call them that. I remember when I used to work at a coffee shop and I had a customer who was upset with their order. I was upset because they took out their frustration on me. But my manager told me (bless her heart!), “Vivien, it’s just coffee. If getting the wrong the coffee drink is the worst thing that happens in their day, then I would think, they had a pretty good fucking day. Don’t let it ruin your  day.” And I didn’t. I had to have someone put it into perspective for me. But it’s not just getting the wrong coffee drink this time. It’s nothing; but I wish it were something so I could put that into perspective. Now I’m paralyzed. I’ve rationalized every reason NOT to do the things that I want to do today; and so I won’t. It’s a never ending, frustrating cycle. If I don’t accomplish anything today, I’ll feel guilty and more depressed. But I don’t have enough energy to actually motivate myself enough to do anything. I hate living like this. Always waiting for the right moment or the right mood, the right feeling; what kind of life is that? How can I deal with this if I don’t know what’s wrong? Until I acknowledge that which is making me depressed or until this feeling passes; I’m stuck in depression limbo. And in my experience, it could be quite some time till I leave;  I might as well get myself some coffee.

I think most people would kill for the amount of self-esteem I have. But it’s unfounded. Where did it come from? Most likely it came from my childhood. Everyone knows after the 1980’s there was a society-wide effort to increase children’s self-esteem. Our Baby Boomer parents and those in charge of education felt it was important that everyone feel good about themselves (for some reason); so they shoved high self-esteem down our throats. I think all my friends remember seeing that “YOU ARE SPECIAL” poster everyday in their classrooms. Many school districts across the country had specific (or still have) programs designated to increase self-esteem. So while our Baby Boomer parents gained self-esteem naturallyfrom a stable, child-friendly society; they were building an army of narcissists, silently and subliminally. According to Dr. Jean M. Twege author of “Generation Me”:

“All evidence suggests that narcissism is much more common in recent generations. In the early 1950s, only 12% of teens aged 14 to 16 agreed with the statement ‘I am an important person.’ By the late 1980s, an incredible 80% claimed they were important.”

Often confused with self-esteem, narcissism is the dark side of the focus on self. I would be inclined to think that I was a narcissist but I have empathy for others. I am constantly trying to put myself in the “other person’s shoes”. I am not completely heartless. I think I owe that to the fact that I went to Catholic school for 8 years. I was being taught self-importance and to love myself at the same time I was being taught to only love God and fear Him. So I was constantly conflicted. I don’t claim to be very religious these days, I sure as hell don’t claim to be Catholic anymore but there are some things that can’t be undone. After 8 years of God-God-God being shoved down my throat and in my brain at an age where I was the most susceptible, it’s not something I can easily let go. I still think there is this ominous presence following me, watching my every move; ready to strike me down when I do something wrong, which is everything according to “The Book”. I would feel really guilty if I were to just wash my hands of “The Almighty”. (I feel guilty for putting it in quotes…but I’m gonna leave it)

But where’s the line? Where do these outer influences stop and where does it begin being me or myself? Nature vs. Nurture. The age-old conflict. But that doesn’t apply here. I’m talking about myself; or oneself. When is it my turn? It’s Nature-Nurture vs. Me. It’s scary to think how easily we could have turned out differently had it been for just one word or one action. In Metallica’s movie, “Some kind of Monster”,James Hetfield went to rehab. Their guitarist, Kirk Hammit, talked about his concern for James when he got out of rehab. He said, (and I’ll just summarize it, this is not quoted directly) “I’ve known people who have gone to rehab and they dig deep. I mean really deep…” He then went on to say that in rehab they “pull off all your layers” and that they “spread them out” and pick at the little pieces and “examine every thing.” Where did these layers come from? Does every layer determine our actions, morals, beliefs, addictions, etc, etc? I wonder how many layers I have. And can they really be unmade? Am I still making layers?
I hate the media. The media has the general population believing that mental illness comes from a situation, that it was brought upon the individual from a bad experience. Or that something went SNAP! in the brain. I don’t think that’s how that works. At least, that not what I understand from my psychiatrist (and he went to college!). Our brains are made up of millions of neurons firing off at different times. He compared them to telephone wires. All the wiring is there but it’s not getting to the right phone number, so to speak. Dopamine levels, chemicals, blah, blah…you get the idea.

I think the intentions of our parents and educators were well meant, but some how it backfired. A bitter, angry, never satisfied generation arose; simplicity, work-ethics, and family values are the things we mocked. I found it a little bit ironic that while I was looking for a “motivational” picture to place in this posting, I found a lot of “de-motivational” pictures of posters. I looked through a few of them and even laughed at a couple; then it occured to me that the people who design these oh-so clever posters are people my age, my generation. It’s cool now to be bitter. It’s cool now to be angry. My travels to high schools prove it. There is no respect because the students feel they deserve more. I don’t mean to lay blame on anyone or anything; although I guess it would seem as if I were. There are always outside factors as well: the economy, right? If the economy didn’t suck so bad maybe more people would be happier or seem happier. Sure. There are always going to be unhappy, unsatisfied people in life; regardless of the generation. I’m simply making an observation. And it’s always easy to point the finger somewhere else; parents, media, economy, dopamine levels, etc, etc. So my question earlier was: where’s the line? When is it begin being me? When is it my responsibility? Well…how about now.

I love food. I love food so much I decided I wanted a career in it so I could be around it all day. Give me an Arugula salad, or Steak au poivre, a nice Vichyssoise, or even Grav Lox on a bagel with cream cheese is good anytime; and drizzle it all with truffle oil! Mmmmm……
My love of food developed early on in life for me, so it was no surprise to anyone when I went to culinary school. At culinary school I poured over cook books and read them like novels. Of course my other classmates were just as in love with food as I was. We talked about it constantly and experimented in all different types of foods. We could easily go to a restaurant and drop $300; of course that’s including 3 bottles of wine after 5 hours of just sitting and eating and talking and enjoying each other’s company. Which is another good reason for my love of food; it’s familiarity and ability to bring people together. It wasn’t long until my love became an obsession. It didn’t help matters that I worked in fine dining restaurants. From the moment I woke till the time I went to bed, it was always food! And I didn’t mind. I loved it! I kept writing and re-writing the menu for the many various restaurants I would have someday. Then something happened…

I got myself into a situation that I was uncomfortable with: I got fat. I’ve never been a skinny person, but I was always at a weight I could live with. I guess, it all caught up to me. So I decided that a lifestyle change was in order and I did it. I changed my eating habits, exercised regularly and I’m at a more comfortable weight. But in doing so, it seems as if my love affair with food seems to have diminished and my obsession seems to have shifted to re-shaping my body with exercise. I find it fascinating, but I digress. I look at food in a different way now; a good way, a more healthy way…I hope. I don’t think about food 24 hours a day anymore; everything in moderation, right?

A recent article in Ladies Homejournal caught my eye. Six women talked about their weight loss and eating habits. These women lost significant weight in the matter of about 2 years each; their weight loss was equal to a human being each! How did they do it? That was my first question and the reason I picked up the magazine. Then the next question was, How did they lose it so quickly? I poured over the article and read each woman’s sob story about how they love food so much and that they just couldn’t get enough of it, I felt as though I could relate till I read about the foods they claimed to love. I was actually disgusted! Battered deep fried anything with sauce, dressing and cheese galore! Each woman was only able to lose the weight when they joined such groups like Jenny Craig or Nutrisystem or Weight Watchers. They said the programs taught them proper portion sizes and what foods to eat. What foods to eat?! You mean to tell me you don’t know what foods to eat? Someone actually has to bring you food to your front door and tell you this is what you are eating for the whole month?! Don’t lie to me Ladies Homejournal! You don’t love food.

Obesity is a problem in our country. But I think EVERYONE knows what foods they should be eating. It’s hard for me to believe that a person doesn’t know eating fast food everyday is bad for them. Yes it’s good. Yes I miss eating it. What I wouldn’t give for a hamburger right now. But like I said, everything in moderation. Maybe obesity is more than just a a physical problem, maybe it could be categorized as a mental illness as well. If you can’t see what you are doing to your own body then maybe there are bigger issues at work here. Or maybe I’m a food snob. I’ll admit it. I’m a food snob. So what? I should be. Everyone should be. Everyone should demand the best out of what they are putting into their bodies. I like my food simple; the less it’s been handled the better. But I’m not too much of a snob that I can’t enjoy a plate of beer battered onion rings with blue cheese dressing on the side. Mmmm…..

 This is why my hairstylist rocks!! And she did this without all the chit-chatty nonesense that most hairdressers do with their clients. I love my hairstylist! Too bad it won’t look like this in the morning….

” Please could you stop the noise/ I’m trying to get some rest/ From all the unborn chicken voices in my head/ What ’s that…? (I may be paranoid, but no android)/ What’s that…? (I may be paranoid, but no android)/ (Radiohead)

It started innocently. I had downloaded a picture of the character ‘Death’ from Neil Gaiman’s “Sandman” comic book. Not thinking about it, I saved it as “Death” and copied it to my desktop. My computer then saved it “Shortcut to Death”. I thought it was hilarious!!

“The message may not move me/ Or mean a great deal to me/ But, hey, it feels so groovy to say.” (Peter, Paul and Mary)

I’ve been filling my ipod with all kinds of music from itunes (I’m afraid to see my credit card statement); mostly with songs that I’ve grown up with and remember. And I think that’s the most compelling thing about music. I often wonder, “What is it about music that we love so much that sparks our most intense emotions?” It makes us dance with happiness and joy; it makes us cry with sadness and insecurity; it can encourage us positively and negatively and we go unafraid to take on the world. Why? Or better yet How? How does something so seemingly unassuming be so powerful? I believe it goes back to when we were younger…
My first memory of music was when I was 4 years old. I went into Rainbow Records with my mother and I remember asking her if she would buy me Michael Jackson’s “Thriller” album. She told me, “If they don’t have Kenny Rodgers, then I’ll buy it for you.” Two minutes seemed like a lifetime to me as she asked the sales clerk about her album, I even remember saying a little prayer like “Please don’t have Kenny Rodgers.” And they didn’t. I went home with my very first record. I also remember taking a lot of long road trips with my family and the music of The Beatles, Led Zepplin, Yes, Heart, etc. etc. constantly played in the background. Sixteen hours to Seattle or eight down to San Diego, this was the soundtrack of our journey; and me in the back seat with nothing to do but look out the window and dream. Of course I also have an older sister to thank for her influence on me. I wanted to do everything she did. She listened to a lot of Brit-pop,”Post-Modern”, College rock and some punk music. So I did too. But by the time I was 8 years old, she and I were listening to two completely different genres, and I was OBSESSED! She introduced me to bands like Squeeze, The Talking Heads, INXS, The Pet Shop Boys and of course…R.E.M. But I felt bands like The Sex Pistols and The Ramones spoke more to me. My most favorite band at the time though was INXS. Yes, they are very talented musicians but mostly, I had a crush on the lead singer.

Ok…My top 5 bands in no particular order: 1. Violent Femmes 2. Beastie Boys 3. The B-52’s 4. Steely Dan 5. Patti Smith….How did I come to this conclusion? It’s just my opinion. These musicians have proven to me their talent, creativity and individuality when it comes to their craft. I don’t actually own a Beastie Boys or Steely Dan album (well, my dad does). But I can appreciate these artists ability to infuse different genres of music and make it work; being able to bring different fans together and create a common bond. I’ve seen Patti Smith in concert 3 times and she puts on a damn good show!! She is the only person I will continue to see live in concert. I don’t even know all of her songs but she doesn’t make me feel like I’m left out. The B-52’s: Two singers and an announcer? Come on! A four string guitar and bass keyboard? What’s not to love? And the Violent Femmes? Pure genius…