Since I Lost My Sense of Humor...

I've been doing a lot of thinking about my life and may I just add that life is indeed too short. As the years pass, the older I am getting; the older I am getting, the less I want to be in school.


I never thought of the importance of school, never really cared much for it. Sure in high school, I was an honor roll student with honor classes, college courses, and a yearbook editor. I had so much promise for my future, but once I got into college, I didn't know where I was headed. It was always clear to me that I wanted to major in Psychology. I dreamt with the idea of helping others with their problems; I wasn't doing it for the money, but for love of people.


This ardure to help others was what kept me motivated to reach my goals, which at the time was to become a psychologist. I did, however, have other passions in life, but one of them stood out the most. The very thing I wanted to do since the age of 10 and that was to be in broadway. As a child I would spend my time making up songs and putting acts in front of the adults and this passion of mine stayed with me until the beginning of college.


I had taken acting classes, singing classes, guitar classes and dance classes, I was for sure in love with the idea of being in broadway. Then when I started my first year in college, that dream fell apart. I had taken acting classes in college, only to get critized about my weak performance...when all this time I thought I was good at what I did.


From then on I concentrated on my general studies, but I would also take other courses that had nothing to do with my major. Well fast forward to three years later and I finally finished what should have been my two year degree. Of course in my mind that didn't matter much, as long as I was moving away and was going to finally finish my other two years....So I thought.


I haven't finished yet, which has made me feel old in all possible ways. Yes, there are others who have not finished like me, but I've always been so determined with life. I always had an idea that by age 24, I would have my masters and yet that will not be happening. Everything I had ever planned for me changed and to make things worse, I want to be a magazine editor.


How on earth can I, if my commas and semicolons are in all the wrong places.... How can I, if my sentences are all jumbled up and my sense of humor and creativity have left me? I see everyone around me accomplishing things that I have so wanted in my life and yet here I am writing in a blog that most don't even read anyways.


Though, I try to keep positive about my success, it makes me wonder how others have reached that success.


So my fellow readers, how on earth did you get to the place you are in now? how did you reach your goals? What challenges did you have to face to get to the place you are in now?


Sorry for the lack of pictures and humor, I promise I'll have something better up....eventually.


Hanny the coffee bean

The Chance Encounter Paradox, Or: Why I Hate Milk

As preparation for my return to France, I dug out some old photographs of various trips to New York and Washington, D.C. I want to do some lessons about these cities so I thought it would be a treat to show my French students these places. I then came across a few pictures of myself from my high school years.


My jaw dropped.



I knew that I had been fatter, but I never realized that I honestly looked like a neckless, New Balance sneakers-sporting Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade balloon. I also had not discovered the joys of styling my clothes in a tasteful fashion to not look like an eyesore to other people. I immediately was overcome by a sudden urge to start a bonfire with those photos.


I have visual proof that I have come a long way from those dreadful years I would rather forget. Those photos have given me a sudden boost in confidence, but I must be cautious to not let it go to my head. I don't want it to trigger the vicious cycle of the Chance Encounter Paradox to which I have fallen prey in the past. Not this time!


The Chance Encounter Paradox is a theory centered on how I feel internally that is soon manifested in the occasions of meeting people. As I commence to take better care of my body and mind, I also experience a sudden increase of caring about my personal appearance. I take pride in myself, and I want to eagerly show this brand-new me to others.




As I continue to see people from my past, they compliment the wonderful changes they have seen and encourage me to continue. My confidence steadily increases to a point that breaks beyond what I even anticipated I would feel. I have tasted the power within, and I don't care to let it go.


Now that I am starting to lose weight again, I find that this, rather frustratingly, happens to me quite more often than I would like to admit. I am being unnaturally vain?


Hell yeah, I am.

I've wised up since I was handed that diploma that is now a token of my adolescent tendencies. I've been to college. I've lived in France. I figured out how to work the mascara and eyeliner tubes so I don't look like an Emo Clown hopelessly trying out for a modeling agency. I got Paul Mitchell Sculpting Foam hair mousse. I'm a hell of a lot thinner than I when I was a woefully bloated, fashionably-awkward 17 year-old with New Balance sneakers. I am a confident, mature go-getter who is ready to conquer the world. And I'm showing ALL of that off, damn it.




If living in Dijon taught me anything, it was that I should take more pride in my presentation and always try to look my best just in case I accidentally-on-purpose bump into someone that I know. It would be terrible for them to see me made-down when I should be making the most of my good looks, right? Here in Miami, the place I end up visiting to see if I encounter someone from my past is the mall. I venture into the world with the hope of meeting someone I have not seen in X number of years just to show off how much I have visibly altered since my embarrassing loser high school years.

I find myself strolling everywhere I go with a prepared, crazy-eyed "look at me" expression reserved for beauty queen contestants. All that I am missing is the sparkly tiara.

I also make a side note that my desire to look good naturally multiplies exponentially by a thousand-fold if I so happen to have my eyes set on impressing a particular guy or wish to just see someone who taunted me from the past. I start to envision the rehearsed conversations I would have with these people.

In my ideal world, all of my long-gone loser rivals would regret the crappy way they treated me and the Guy I'm trying to impress would be a dead-ringer for the pop singer Mika. He would be tall, handsome, speaks English with a British accent and, as an added bonus, speaks French fluently. Mmmmmm...

That, of course, is never gonna happen, which is why I hastily stress that this would be part of MY ideal world. But a girl can dream, after all.

To help facilitate the theory, I present to you the findings and statistics of the Chance Encounter Paradox based on my own empirical experiences.

Chart 1: Level of Self-Confidence Based on Elapsed Time

Chart 2: Chances of Meeting Someone When I Look Great

Chart 3: Chances I Meet Someone When I Look Like Crappy High School Self


That is the down side to the Chance Encounter Paradox: the more I desire to see a particular person while I look good, the more the instance of bumping into them decreases. As my expectations rise, I only find myself surrounded by an endless sea complete strangers (people I don't care about). The number of received compliments soon stabilizes to a halting zero. My pride lacks the reinforcement it needs to thrive on. The balance is no longer equal and I soon become a victim of my own pig-headed hopes.

Days pass. Weeks pass. With every day that I apply a layer of lipstick, my hopes go down the drain when I don't see a single soul that I know or care to impress. Looking good, I have discovered, takes a toll on one's state of mind if one does not randomly see the hordes of admiring people from high school. The overconfidence wanes with each application of foundation I put on my face. The hours I spend improving myself seem to be absolutely fruitless if there is no one else to appreciate it. I get discouraged and fall into a mild depression of the "nobody wants me" blues. Mundane activities eventually start to take precedence on my list of important things.

The cycle officially breaks once I deem buying milk to be more essential than fixing my locks.

It is an applied physics rule to human life that when I look great, I never see anyone that I know, and when I decide to look drab, it results in me running into someone that I had been dreaming of impressing.

That's how it always happens.

Every. Single. F*cking. Time.

What happened to college? Where is all the time I spent in France? Where is the God-damned hair mousse? That all went crashing down in flames when I decided to buy milk looking like an adolescent Harvey Two-Face. Thanks to the Chance Encounter Paradox, I reverted back to my un-cool high school self.

I realize that, ultimately, I am only supposed to feel good within myself and with that mentality, my natural beauty and self-esteem will shine through to radiate on those who gawk at me. I must only be content with myself and not base my aspirations on pleasing others/fulfilling unlikely material dreams.

But I'd rather blame my demise on the Milk.

Curse you, Milk. Curse you to heck.

**********************************************

On a more serious note: once I do attain Shakira-hotness, I will be a good candidate for the website Before You Were Hot. That realization helps to keep me level-headed and not spiral back into the Chance Encounter Paradox.

Barb the French Bean

My Two Imaginary Scenarios

My daily life includes going to classes, doing homework, blogging, going to kick boxing, and the never ending errands in my life. I know not so much, but by the end of the day I am dead tired.

However, Ever so often I tend to think about my current ex-boyfriend. When I do think of him it makes me wonder if he misses me...

I guess not...

Though I really wouldn't know. The situation could also be like this:

Well I will never know, though I do believe it is the first one since he does looooooove food. But I like the second scenario much better! >:]

-Hanny The Coffee Bean