Earl Me Grey

Do you ever feel as though you're the only one on your wavelength? Think, radio frequency.
Maybe you say something and no one catches on, so you just keep it to yourself, in your head, the next time you think you want to say something out loud.

Do you ever feel as though you're drinking Earl Grey from a tea bag, while everyone else is caught up with the latest loose leaf tea blend named after a cosy Christmas feeling?

Sometimes, I don't even feel as though I'm from this time. I was born in the wrong century. Yet here I am, using a computer and completely dependant on my phone. So, what's the deal, world?

No matter how hard I try to catch on to current things going on around me, it always feels like I'm a little out of step. At this point, it's very hard to think something is NOT wrong with you. I mean, sure in Grade 4 you coloured a shield representing all the things you liked to do with stick figures (who are we kidding, I drew full portraits) of the people with whom you are closest, and the big letters on the bulletin board said, "I AM UNIQUE." But aside from that, doesn't it seem like there is some common binding force that bonds people, and most times, you're just not feeling the bonding force field?

Sometimes, the definition of being "unique" feels more like an imprisonment to a lonely world, rather than a celebration of differences. Sometimes, it can be hard to remember the elementary school lessons on why we should see the things that make us different as good things, not bad things. Even in my twenties, I forget these lessons some days.

But, I like Earl Grey. It's not that I don't like change, it's that I don't feel I need to keep up with the times, to feel good about myself. I operate on a different frequency, and that's okay. It doesn't make me less, or weird, or even how we often use the word, "different." It just makes me, me.

Maybe I was born in the wrong century, or maybe I'm just me.

Maybe I'm on another wavelength, or maybe I'm just me.

Maybe no one understood what I said, but that's just me.

Maybe I didn't feel the binding forcefield of being unique, or maybe... I'm just me.

Maybe I like Earl Grey, and maybe, that's just me.

Earl me grey.


Felicia 
xo

A Somewhat-Non-Revival?

Reviving the writer in you is sometimes hard to do. I took a break because of school, and I just couldn't afford to lose concentration, but there comes a point when I'm always called back to something I enjoy. 

If you're near me during school, you'll hear me repeatedly say, "I hate writing, I hate reading." I mean, how many of us claim to hate the things we're studying? We do them 24/7 and we study them because we enjoy it, but somehow we're still emulating hate all the time for it. Or I am at least. So, here's my confession. 

I don't hate writing. I love writing. I love making a mark on the page. I used to love copying lines because I could practice perfecting my handwriting. I love words. I love these black lines appearing as I type. It's so cool. That is such an understatement... But isn't it? 

Words give you this freedom. You're confined to using 26 letters of the alphabet, yet sometimes we still don't have the words to express a feeling. Other times, we have so many words we can't get them out fast enough. 

I love reading. I thought I hate it because of school, but I don't. I mean, why else did I have the urge to read the other day? I didn't even want to watch Friends, I just wanted to sit in bed and read. HOW RARE IS THAT FEELING NOWADAYS? Too bad I had studying to do though, right? But maybe I was scared. Scared that reading wouldn't pull me in the way it used to. 

Let's look at it. Are we scared of the things we love most? What if one day we just, stop loving those things and they don't interest us anymore? Am I the only one who's scared of this? What if you open a book, and it doesn't hold your attention? This book was a sanctuary to you, it was a whole other world to escape to, and it took your mind off of anything and everything. Through this book you were a hero, you were a villain, you were the princess you were the riddle-solver. You were unrelenting and flawed. 
But you were someone. 

I started this post about words and blogging and writing and reading. But really, it's about change and how change makes us lose the things we love, the things we feel comfortable with. It makes me feel lost, I think. Someone asked me what I'm interested in besides what I study and soccer, since that's what I play, and for a while I couldn't come up with an answer. Do I now know myself anymore? I can't process how I feel about it right now, the turmoil and anxiety this is giving me, so I'll jut leave it there for today. 

Google says that chamomile tea is calming but my stomach says that chamomile and I just aren't friends. So maybe this kind of answer, about change and all those things that make us anxious, maybe this answer we can't Google, or Wikipedia, or Ask.com. Maybe this one, we have to go with our gut feelings. Literally. 

--
Felicia

P.S. When I googled chamomile tea, 4/5 websites that I clicked suggested it was good for calming stomachaches, and 1/5 websites said people allergic to ragweed or something else can sometimes get a stomachache or rash from it since apparently they are distantly related. Just a fun fact. 

Colour the rainy, cold days.

On a cold day like today, where I am, it's time to bundle up and grab those scarves, hats and mitts. It's hard to stay positive sometimes when it's cold and rainy, and use the age-old excuse: blame it on the w-w-w-w-weather. 

And thus was born my brilliant advice. When you wake up and look outside your window, and just KNOW it's going to be "one of those days," pick a colour. Then, open up your closet and find something with that colour. Then long and hard, in deep, deep thought... (Okay, who really has time for deep thoughts in the morning? Let's be serious, it'll be about 3 seconds of deep thought.) ...And tell yourself, "I will smile to myself, even if I'm alone and look totally creepy and weird, every time I see this colour today." Too easy? Alternate mantra: "I will smile to myself, and tell myself one happy thing, even if I'm alone and look totally creepy and weird, every time I see this colour today." I KNOW it sounds so cheesy and lame, but I tried it and it worked. I promise. 

I chose pink. My scarf was pink, and since it was cold, I knew it would be hanging 'round my neck all day long. Every time I looked down to write my notes in class BAM! There is was. Now, I started drawing smiley faces on my notes instead, because apparently my hand-eye-face-coordination is a little off, but you won't have that problem. I hope. 

C'mon ladies, every time you walk past a window, check yourself out and look at that colour and grin like the freaking Cheshire cat from Alice in Wonderland (Disney version, not the new creepy version). Every snapchat, every selfie (yes, I know how many you take), every look in the mirror because women's bladders are entirely too small to let us hold anything larger than a medium Timmies.. Every single time, I want you to see that colour and smile. 

And that, is my positive, quick, hamburger helper solution to rainy, cold days and moods that feel like rainy, cold days. And a hot cup of tea, of course. 

Felicia 
xx

Love like a hot cup of tea.

As I was drinking my hot cup of blueberry green tea while getting through some reading for school, I thought about how nice it was to have a hot cup of tea. See, usually, I make my tea then forget about it and by the time I remember to drink it, the tea's gone cold. I enjoyed it, then as I got into my book, forgot about it. 
Now you all know what's coming next. My tea got cold. It had this metallic, bitter taste, not the sweet, blueberry green tea taste I had enjoyed an hour ago. It was the kind of taste that made me purse my lips like I had just downed tequila and put the lemon in the shot glass. Yeah, that kind of taste. And since I've been a little nostalgic *cough*lookingupoldpicturesofmeandmyex*cough* lately, cold tea made me think of relationships.
See, when the hot water is first poured into the mug and hits the tea bag and a lovely, clear brown or greenish water appears, it's like the first few weeks of love. It's changing and it's refreshing. Like that first sip of hot tea, you sigh, you smile, and your chest is filled with warmth. 
You're happy. 
You take a few sips and enjoy the hot tea - it's the honeymoon stage of your new relationship. Ouch! Too hot, you burned your tongue. But that's okay, you can still taste the tea, so you take a break, then continue sipping away, more carefully. This is clearly the part when something in the relationship goes wrong - a first fight, a break of trust.. After a while you've got two choices: continue sipping the tea as it slowly gets colder, or down it while its hot like you're a parched camel in the desert. 
Now what? Now you have cold tea or a burned throat. In my case, I have cold tea. And another decision looms: throw it out, or gulp down the bitter, cold tea. As for the relationship? Endure the cold, dying love that was once a warm relationship or bite the bullet and end things. 
Let me tell you one thing. If you try to endure the bitter tea, you won't enjoy it but you'll think, "Hey this is better than wasting it!" But then you won't like the tea and you will become resentful. Same as the relationship you're in. End it when the love ends, and you'll save both of you from resentful, spiteful messy aftermath of attempting to move on while really still holding onto that person. 
So after that long, confusing metaphor, you're like, what the heck does love have to do with tea? Love like a cup of hot tea, my friends. Enjoy it while its hot and know there's a time to throw it out when it starts to get cold. Then turn on the kettle, boil more water, and pour yourself another hot cup of tea. 
Or press a button on one of those snazzy Keurig machines. That works too.

Felicia
xx