Omelette theif 

Do I regret it? Absolutely not. 

Whole egg with mozzarella, peppers, and a perfect mix of ham and bacon. I’m never going back to the dullness of  pre-whipped egg and cheddar. As I watch you stand impatiently at the omelette line waiting for your beautiful concoction, I can’t help but feel a pang of guilt. But come on….you were being selfish by keeping this treasure to yourself. Enjoy my boring omelette bitch 


intoxicated thoughts

I’m blogging for the first time while I’m drunk. How do I feel?

Not bad….I suppose. But not good. Like a contempt kind of melancholy. I just know I could be doing more. That’s always it.

It sound so easy, but when you prioritize mental wellbeing like I do, the other stuff doesn’t seem as important. A boy is asking me to come to his room right now to drink champagne. Is that a good decision? I”m not sure but I’m going to do it anyways.

I know it’s not smart, but I just want to be with someone that listens to me, even if they’re just pretending. I know this isn’t the healthy thing to do.

Raindrops keep falling on my keyboard. I’m sitting outside. The air is fresh and crisp. I’m lighting another cigarette. Why? Maybe I want the nicotine to rush through my veins, or maybe I just want to distract myself from everything that”s nagging my brain. I don’t know anymore. A girl just walked past me that lives on my hall. She didn’t say hi. I think the fact that I’m smoking cigarettes scared her away…..I”ve created a negative stigma for myself.

I’m not surprised.

I think I’d judge me too.

I’m supposed to be more awake right now…..he should be texting me any minute to come drink champagne with him. But I’m already drunk, and deep in my thoughts. FUPO (the Furman police) just pulled up and left. I guess they don’t really enforce the 20ft. rule anymore.



“Habits are the invisible architecture of daily life. We repeat about 40% of our behavior almost daily, so our habits shape our existence, and our future. If we change our habits, we change our lives.”

My habits. I’ve allowed them to dictate my life. It’s funny because it’s all up to me. I’m the one responsible for my own misery.

I’m stressed out about school:  I can sit down and study

I’m unhappy with my body: I can run in the mornings and never miss a sunrise

I’m always tired: I can go to sleep so that I can wake up well rested and refreshed

I have no respect for myself: I can surround myself with people that see my worth

My brain chemicals are fucked up: I can take my medicine every day to maintain some kind of stability

I don’t feel like I’m intelligent: I can be attentive in class and allow myself to absorb information. I can read in my free time to expand my mental horizons.

I want to be like everyone else: I can complete my goals–change my routines so I don’t feel like I have to accept my own discontent with myself.

Why does it sound so easy?

He saw me. And God, it was painful.

I see you.

The grass and the groaning trees and the wide deep ocean

of  the  night  that  belongs  to us  and  we to it and the

stars  swimming silent  and  the gentle  sleeping moon

and the nearness of  you  lying  here in the  earth  with


(You explain to me the groaning of the trees, lessons your

father   taught  you  that   his father  taught  him.  Your

father knew the voices of the birds. You mother was a

friend of the moon. You  were born  near the trees and

they created you.)

The warmth of your body pressed near to mine.

(Your fingertips make a map of my flesh, my skin, hands

arms face mouth ears, the roughness and the edges of


The healing hum of your naked voice.

(I forget  myself in the  folds of the night and in the warm

wild words rising eager from the depths of you.)

The  subtle movement of your  soul free here to touch  its

own skin.

. . .

We will leave this grass and walk out resurrected beneath

our sky  and our stars and our moon.  I will  hold your

hand in mine and talk recklessly of tomorrows.

We will  leave our questions  and  our stories  lying  limp

between the blades of grass.

We will whisper new questions and new stories under the

dome of new nights.

We will always belong to the night and the grass.

. . .

Soon we will sit  beneath a streetlamp in the cold and the

concrete and your eyes will carve  confusion  into  the

cracks of my tired flesh.

I will hold you  and  my  dilapidated brain will  convulse

beneath the electric shock of these new secrets.
I will hold  you and  hope your  wounds  melt into  blank

empty spaces in this warmth.

I will  hold  you and hope you will  hear my  silence  and

know its meaning.

I will  hold you and  hope you  will learn to love and live

in the truest parts of you.

I will hold you and hope that none ever hold you who are

not   worthy  of  the  largeness  of  your  soul,  do  not

respect its  worth,  who do not call it quietly into wide

open fields in which it can sing and dance and be free.

I will let go.

                                       . . .

You will carry the map of me the rest of your life.


It makes so much sense.

Codependency. It’s is a very passive trait. I often refer to myself as a jellyfish: just flowing with the tide of the current.

Although this makes me sound like a very “carefree, go-with-the-flow” type of person, I am everything but that. I am a prisoner to this characteristic. I am a prisoner to myself. I think that’s why Dimitra Milan’s painting resonates so much with me. It shows a girl with contorted limbs, as if the tentacles of her environment are pulling her in different directions.

In my mind, people give me purpose. My self image is a reflection of how others perceive me. Without their opinions, I have no self.

At night time I become restless. I used to think this was because I craved scandal. And don’t get me wrong, I do crave scandal. In fact, I seek it out. But it’s not for the superficial reasons I originally thought. Scandal is the only way I know how to get a reaction out of people, more specifically, guys. Their reactions and my romanticized concept of drama fill my empty shell with meaning. But afterwards I’m filled with guilt: my body’s way of telling that what I’m doing is not the answer.

The question is, how do I detach myself from this? It’s going to be a bumpy transition considering the fact that I’ve been practicing this since I can remember. Today I purchased a book called Codependent no more by Melody Beattie. My mom recommended it when she discovered the uncanny similarities between me and Beattie’s description of codependency.

I’ve got to do some soul searching. I can’t keep surrounding myself with people just to gain self-approval.  I can’t look in other people to find answers about myself. It sounds so elementary…how did I let it come to this?

Recently, it seems like scandal has been following me around. It’s everywhere I turn. I suppose when you start seeking it, it seeks you right back. I think I need to burn some bridges. It’s harder than you think. These people are how I define myself. By cutting one of them off, it feels like I’m cutting off a part of myself. But it’s not rational or healthy to think that way. I need to be aware of that.

I need to do the things that I don’t want to do.

f e a r o f t r u t h

He says that my problem is that I’m dictated by my emotions rather than logic-a typical girl thing. “It’s because you have estrogen”. But I must try to use logic before emotion. “Emotions are beautiful, but they should not alter your perceptions from reality”. Yes, emotions are beautiful, but they are not the truth. They are purely subjective. 

Okay, so I can see where my demons sprout from. I suppose it all goes back to insecurities. I think I wanted it to be something else, just because of the pathetic connotation that goes along with the phrase “being insecure”. I wanted it to be some deep, dark destructive monster inside of me that keeps me from getting close to anyone, but no. I’m just terrified. I’m terrified out of my mind and that feels really relieving to say.

I’m scared of being myself because what if other people don’t like who I am, and then I’m stuck being this unlikeable person? I’m scared of getting close to people because then they’ll see how scared I am to be myself. I’m scared of never getting over my fear and dying as a sad, bitter old lady. I’m scared of myself because my moods are unpredictable, and alter my perception of the world around me. I’m scared of myself because sometimes I have everything under control, and then the next second it’s like I’m no longer on auto pilot and I have to steer this machine that I don’t know how to operate. I’m scared that I’m so scared of myself. God I’m so so scared.

And sad.

He says that I need to go back and find the root of the problem. If I can find what has caused me to be afraid, I can accept it and move on.

But I know the root of the problem. In fact, I have taken my past and analyzed it down to the timeline of events that have caused me to be afraid:

  • I’m the youngest of my family, which helped shape my naiveness and sensitivity.
  •  My sister bullied me when I was a child and teenager. We had a toxic relationship, and I was completely dependent on her approval in order to feel good about myself. She constantly and unknowingly tore me down during puberty, which is a vital and awkward time in one’s life. She heightened my insecurities with out even realizing it.
  • My naiveness got me into trouble at my first high school party. I drank too much and  lost my virginity to two older guys in one night…I’m not sure which one took it first. One of the guys dated me out of guilt. I felt like a complete idiot. Again…my insecurities were heightened. I broke up with him because I could’t handle how much I disliked myself.
  • The summer before my freshman year of college, I had sex for the first time since the incident. I met this man at a bar, we had some drinks, and I completely fooled him into thinking I was a 23 year-old in physical therapy school. There was something so liberating about being able to pretend that I was someone else. I went home with him, had sex that I barely remember, and woke up the next morning to an empty bed and an empty conscience. I felt guilt free and there finally seemed to be hope. I mean, if i could fool him into thinking I was confident, artsy, and had a fucking clue; than I could certainly fool 18-year old guys. My craze for men began.
  • I became so used to putting a facade up–the mask that says I’m sexy, mysterious, artsy, and deep; the full package, really. And guys bite the bait SO EASILY. But what happens when they want to go on a second date? And a third? It’s not like my facade is a fully-developed person. I can keep them at arm distance for so long until they start to catch on. You’d think this would drive them away, but no. They become more intrigued. They think “this girl must have some huge secret”. I remain romanticized in their mind, but it will only be temporary because I know I can’t handle them discover the scared little girl hiding behind the mask. I drop them, and I move on to the next one to repeat the whole process over again.

When you think in a situation “what would my alter-ego do right now?”, that’s when you know you’ve completely lost yourself.

He saw straight through my mask from the beginning. When he speaks, it’s not to the deep, sensual woman. He speaks directly to the scared child. It sends the heat rising to my face. I have to keep chain-smoking cigarettes in his presence… it’s the only thing vouching for my mysterious image.  His intelligence, confidence, and manipulation is no match for my phony portrayal of myself. I feel naked in front of him. And god does he know it.




“They say right when they flood the house and they tear it to shreds that… destruction is a form of creation, so the fact that they burn the money is ironic. They just want to see what happens when they tear the world apart. They want to change things.” -Donnie Darko

Why am I attracted to destruction? Because it’s the easiest way to cause change. I don’t sabotage myself because I enjoy pain. In fact, I hate the pain. But I get restless. Being content doesn’t seem like an option. My mind craves the excitement and chaos that change brings. I must always be changing, always evolving, whether it’s for the better or for the worse. At the end of the day, good or bad doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters is that I’m not the same person I was yesterday.

Coffee for two…or four

Hear me out:

People are art, are they not? In my opinion, people are the most complex form of art, influenced by their chemical composition, their childhood, their emotions, even the moment that happened .00986 seconds ago.

I consider myself an artist. Not because I fit the strictly standardized and oppressive definition of “an artist”, but because with out art my life would be with out purpose.

So if people are art and I’m an “art enthusiast”, can I really be blamed for simultaneously falling for four different people? Like paintings, they’re all different and beautiful to me. They have unique color schemes and brush strokes.  Each person challenges a different part of my brain, emphasizing different aspects of my own personality. Call me greedy, but I don’t want to let them go. And I don’t want to share.

This is why I had to give up dating for Lent. I’m a hopeless romantic, but not a traditional one. I have the potential to become infatuated with anyone whom I have chemistry with, even if it’s multiple people at the same time. Imagine if you had to pick one book to read for the rest of your life. Even if the book is amazing, you’re still closing off your mind to hundreds of perspective-altering stories that have the potential to evoke emotions that you weren’t even aware you had. I can’t just have one book. My mind is starving for knowledge, for different perspectives. For art.

I can’t just have one book.



Flawed Cards

Something has been nagging the back of my mind.

In St. Augustine, we thought it would be fun to get our cards read. We stopped at a small shop that resembled more of a haunted house. The owner was a girl in her mid-twenties. She had gaged ears, a shaved head, and gray eyes that she held wide open as if she had just seen a ghost. Superstition radiated off of her. Now, I’ll admit that I have had my moments of superstition, but getting my cards read was purely for shits and giggles. I expected to feel neutral about the results, whether they were good or bad.

She had me shuffle the cards, and while I did so I had to reflect on myself. She told me to close my eyes and mentally disconnect myself from my surroundings. I was to be completely one with myself.

I let my instincts tell me when to stop shuffling.

She told me to take my non-dominant hand and separate the cards into three stacks.

After this was done, she paused and gave me a curious stare. She then picked up the stacks, folded them into each other, and held the cards to her chest with her eyes closed. She murmured something.

Three cards were laid in front of me, representing the past, present, and future:

  • Past: THE ACE OF PENTACLES (which was upside-down)
  • Present: THE HERMIT
  • Future: THE WORLD


The Ace of Pentacles (reversed): Difficulty getting a project started or finished on time or to satisfaction. Inability to handle a basic, debilitating fear. Distrust towards your “inner” voice. You must draw off your “inner” strengths to manifest what you want in both the internal and external worlds. The time has come for you to leave the familiar behind and travel through the Gateway to the mountains of wisdom. You have learned how material gifts can be abused by selfishness, by extreme competition or mistrust, by an over-dependency on security and comfort. Use this knowledge and wisdom to deal with your problems. It is time for you to move on – grow up and assert your independence.

  • The reversed Ace of Pentacles indicates a time when you try to manifest your goals but you do not get very far along due to delays and other impediments to your plans. If your success is limited. 
  • The reversed Ace of Pentacles can indicate corruption, greed and taking what one has not earned. Be careful that you are not being overly opportunistic and exploiting others as you strive towards higher profits and earnings.
  • You may also be blinded by an obsession for greater financial accumulation and wealth, at the expense of other areas of your life.

The Hermit: The Hermit in the present position means you’ve got to look within for answers. You know all you need, you just need to contemplate for a bit. Like an ancient astronomer trying to work out the fabric of the universe; you have all the tools you need, you just need to work on your own thoughts and perception. In regards to life issues:

  • Work / Education – The Hermit in regards to work or education means you need to hunker down and get on with it. You’ve learnt the theory, now is time to put it into practice.
  • Romance – The Hermit is not a good card in regards to romance. It might not be the right time to pursue any romantic relationships right now.
  • Friends – The Hermit in regards to friendship means much the same as romance. Working with like-minded people on a similar wavelength will always be good, however, but don’t push yourself to socialise.
  • Health – The Hermit could mean a few things in regards to health. If something is worrying you, and has for ages, be careful not to act like a hermit and not mention it to anybody. This could be a physical or mental problem you’re having. Talk about it and get a second opinion from somebody you trust.
  • Spirituality and Mentality – The Hermit shows it is a good time to think about spirituality. Soul searching and self reflecting are things to consider doing.

The World: The World in the future position suggests that you need to find your destiny. You may not believe you have a purpose, but even as a single person, you can make change. Don’t be afraid of failure, take up a new project and run with it. Think about what you want from life, are you currently on the path to do this?

  • Work / Education – The World in regards to work or education means that you might feel like you’ve run your course in your current occupation. If you’re in college, you might feel like a change is needed. There are many aspects of our life when we feel like this. If there is nothing else to learn, the mystery changes to mundanity, and we become like cogs in a machine. You need to look elsewhere, even if you’re happy in your job or schooling, there could be so many other great opportunities elsewhere.
  • Romance – The World in romance is a good sign. You can reach a level of understanding with your partner that will take you to new heights and enjoyment. Likewise, if you are single and looking, The World can represent the ending of the cycle of singledom and the start of a relationship very soon. treat it all as a cycle.
  • Friends – The World in regards to friendship means you may take up some new activity with your friends. It’ll likely be introduced  as a trend and take off, but it’ll be something you enjoy together. If you’re worried about your friendships, it might be that you’ve outgrown them, or the opposite. You need to keep people around you who are supportive, inspiring and motivating.
  • Health – The World is mixed when it comes to health. Ending of cycles and starts of others can mean that an illness is going to abate. It can also mean that you will take to heart a whole new way of living. Have you tried being vegetarian, or having a similar changed diet? There are many ways you can change what you intake which make you feel different about your body. Everything you take into your body contributes to it; take in rubbish, and you’ll feel like it. Take in clean natural food, and you’ll feel the difference.
  • Spirituality and Mentality – The World in spirituality might mean a massive overhaul of your belief system. You may feel you’ve learned it all. Do not throw away your core beliefs, but use other systems to contribute to it. Eclectic belief systems are just as valid as an established one. You know what is right for you.

The Ace of Pentacles accurately represents my struggle between desires and goals. The Hermit card describes exactly what I am doing right now: soul searching and self-improvement. The World card urges me to follow my heart because it will lead me to a happy, successful path.

So why are my results so unsettling? Why are they haunting my every thought?

Maybe it’s because my life looked so simple laid out in front of me in three cards: I struggled, I’m changing, and then I’ll succeed. Boom, boom, boom. After that, I’m done. I was, I am, I will be, and then I’m not. Why is everything going by so fucking fast. I just need to breath. I feel like have all the time in the world, yet no time at all. Why the fuck am I sitting in a coffee shop right now when I should be living and succeeding? How am I supposed to know what choices to make? There’s so many and each one will lead me on a different path. God I feel like I could rip my hair out, it’s all so confusing yet so simple. How is it so simple? Am I going to spend the rest of my life worrying about how to spend the rest of my life?  I feel like I’m going to die before I’ve lived.


St. Augustine: My Holy Land

Spring break has arrived out of NO WHERE. Is this the price for being happy? Life is just going to fly through like a locomotive on crack now? At least when I was sad, I lived moment by moment. I analyzed every detail, every thought, every emotion. I guess for everything you take, you give a little too. You have to ask yourself, “Do I want to live a life of dragging myself along, trudging though each day so slowly that I can distinctly remember the acorn I saw half-buried in the ground and the dead flower petal I watched float down from a tree? Or do I want to live a life of dancing through each moment, so high from happiness that I have to stop and remind myself to notice the acorn, and appreciate the flower petal?” Alright, so I guess the second statement is the obvious choice…glad I clarified that with myself.

So where was I? Ah, yes, the beloved spring break. My mother picked up my wonderful roommate and I from our dorm, and we drove straight to St. Augustine.

*Side note: My mom and I like to go on spontaneous excursions called “Michellie Trips” (that’s our names combined). This tradition began exactly a year ago when our original plan to go to The Keys turned into an extended vacation where we also visited Miami, Jacksonville, and Daytona. On these trips, we eat a lot, try to watch every sunrise, and walk for miles exploring every square foot of our environment. In this case, Mary Sloan was apart of out Michellie trip*

st-augustine-flagler-college.jpgAs soon as we turned entered St. Augustine, I new that it would not be the last time I visited. The cobblestone roads, the 1900s houses, the plethora of art galleries and coffee shops….it was love at first sight. I felt like I could almost here the town whispering Welcome home Ellie. And there’s this college there: Flagler College. These students are basically living in a piece of historical art. The coquina buildings followed an auburn and tan color scheme, expressing the heavy Spanish influence on the town. It took my breath away. To think that I could live in a castle, like Spanish royalty, is mind blowing.

Though this trip only lasted three days, it was amazing. There was no partying, no clubbing, nothing that gave me an adrenaline rush (well except for performing at an open mic night with Mary Sloan at a bar), but that’s what made this trip so great. Each morning we woke up slowly. We would sit on the porch with our bed heads and sleepy eyes, telling each other of our bizarre dreams. One morning I lazily strummed my guitar. Mary Sloan and I attempted to sing, but mostly just laughed at our croaky morning voices.


In the afternoon we would stroll into town, awing at the old houses and the Spanish architecture. We weaved in and out of shops, buying the occasional coffee or square of fudge. We made a point to take our time in every art gallery. Who would have thought that there were so many artisans in Florida? There was this painting by an artist named Dimitra Milan…I can’t really explain why it evoked such strong emotions out of me, but I probably could have stared at it for an hour. It felt almost as if there was a string attaching my heart to the artwork.


“She dances in the abounding depths of the waters with the octopus. She starts to feel what its like to be one. Stretching and fitting into tight places. Teaching her the right balance of knowing how far to go before she becomes something else. Rising towards the light, she knows who she has to be. She must stay true to herself, but know how to fit into those tight places.”

Dimitra Milan

It’s something about the way that her body is contorted. Her outfit resembles a school uniform, and her finger nails are painted a juvenile pink. It’s like her naive view on the world has slowly started to disintegrate, and she’s been immersed in the darkness of reality. Society becomes foreign tentacles, pulling and contorting her in different directions with impossible standards and contradicting statements. “BE YOURSELF, BUT ALSO BE LIKE EVERYONE ELSE, BUT ALSO BE UNIQUE, BUT MAKE SURE IT’S THE RIGHT KIND OF UNIQUE.”

But one could also say that her enemy is not society, but her mind. Yes, she’s immersed in darkness, but the darkness is not around her, it’s inside of her. She tries to fake it. She paints her nails, she does her hair, but nothing she does will stop the downward spiral. The tentacles coil around her limbs, jerking her in opposing directions: the struggle between two realties: light and dark…hope and doom.

The art was definitely one of my favorite parts about St. Augustine. We met an artist, Rick Metz, who actually paints with fire. So, not only am I in love with this town, but the people  also did not cease to amaze me. When evening rolled around, we would all agree on a restaurant that caught our eye and go there for dinner. Our first night there was my favorite, because we ate in a piano bar. The pianist played his songs so effortlessly. It looks like he was simply tickling the keys. He ended up giving me his card and telling me to email him about some songs to play in order to get out of my comfort zone (after lecturing me about playing the songs I have already mastered in piano rather than taking risks).

On the last day, we went to the beach. One thing you should know about Mary Sloan, is that she is in love with the ocean. She has told me on several occasions that she wants her ashes thrown into the water, and that she would get married on the beach if being Catholic did not require being married in a church. It was an overcast, windy day, therefore the beach was deserted besides a few committed fishermen. We originally did not have time to make this stop, but as my mom drove along the Atlantic Coast, she saw our faces pressed against the window looking longingly at the water. That was the deciding factor. My mom whipped the car into the first parking lot that she saw, and gave us the look that said go on, and be quick. Mary Sloan and I jumped out of the car, kicking our shoes behind us. Our feet thudded against wooden stairs and then it was sand. I watched Mary Sloan run. I could feel her heart throbbing at the vastness of the water. I started running too, and when I caught up to her we both froze at the shore. We waited, watching the tide slowly creep up towards our toes. The water enveloped our feet and we giggled uncontrollably like two children that had never seen the ocean before. We danced in the sand and gazed at the water and picked up sea shells. It was such a beautiful moment, and the perfect way to end this trip.