Allison Ormsby | The Internet Isn’t Ready for this…

Last night, as I was falling asleep, I got to thinking about rituals.

I never thought that I had that many tasks that occupied my daily routine.  However, upon further reflection, I’ve come to realize that this simply isn’t true.  There are multiple actions that I make everyday and if I didn’t do them — well, I don’t know what I would do!

I’m a coffee drinker.  I know lots of people drink coffee from time to time, but I re-commit myself to this hot bitter beverage every morning.  I can drink black coffee; but, given the option, I definitely stir-in a bit of creamer (preferably the flavored kind).  I used to make coffee at home a lot: in the morning before work, the afternoon during lunch, after work, on the weekends, anytime!  Within the last 6 months or so, however, I don’t really do that anymore.  I’ve found that I make coffee primarily at work (while my Mr. Coffee at home grows moldy from misuse) and any other drops I consume throughout the day are usually purchased at an espresso bar.

Christ! - I’ve become one of “those” people.

In terms of savings, I could do a lot better if it weren’t for these needless pit-stops at Starbucks.  Who really needs that much coffee, much less buy that much coffee, everday???  Apparently me.  I’m that kid wasting one paper cup everyday when I could bring in my own re-useable mug to, well, re-use.  That’s really the least I could do.

But I don’t.  [Note to self: Do better!]

Now that we’ve covered coffee… I’ve noticed that certain rituals go hand in hand.  As soon as that delicious first sip of coffee meets my lips each morning, it hits me: I immediately want a cigarette.  I know it’s gross and I know that I shouldn’t want to want it but I do; damn it.

In a lot of ways I wish that I had never started smoking.  I know it’s disgusting: it smells bad, gives you wrinkles and makes your teeth nasty.  Yeah yeah, heard it.  But there’s something about smoking that really comforts me.  Yes, I said “comfort.”  Awkward maybe, but true nonetheless.

I have attempted to quit smoking on several occasions - Some of these more successful than others.  This is a ritual that I keep meaning to give up, but for one reason or another hang onto for fear of losing that comfort it provides me.  Is it killing me?  Slowly, yes; but I still crave it.

Kristin Allen-Zito says, “Addiction is better than a life without affliction.” Hmm.  Well, even she quit smoking a few years ago.  Makes me think: maybe a need to begin practicing some new rituals.

Gum, the gym, eating healthy, “valuing myself”… All good things.  Not a bad idea to begin taking on at least ONE of these activities.  It will be hard and I will be cranky.  Grrrr.  I’ll tide myself over with the idea that I can always have a “treat” smoke, now and then if I  need one, just mix up the routine.

But that’s not real yet.  So for now, I’m just going to focus on eliminating the toxic from the routine.  I know people have also claimed that drinking coffee is “bad for you,” but I’ve got news for those folks: EVERYTHING IS BAD FOR YOU these days.  You, none of you;  will ever convince me to stop drinking it.  Ever.  That’s not only a promise but a guarantee.  In the words of a great man named Charlton Heston, “From my cold dead hands.”  Word brother. 

First post on the new laptop. Hip-hip-hooray!

Do you ever imagine what it would be like to re-invent yourself? What would that be like and who would you be? Sometimes Jenn and I talk about transforming our own personal styles by dressing in new and fun and interesting ways. Well, interesting to us anyway. But what would it be like to completely evolve into a person who you in no way currently resemble?

I think a lot of folks have imagined who they would be if they could be somebody different. Oh, I know I have!

I would have attitude - The kind of attitude that strikes as “bad ass” opposed to “asshole.” I would speak my mind with no fear of consequence, good or bad. I would feel confident and sexy, and I would wear head scarves and lace tights to prove it. I imagine that I would be the type of person who would find the ugliest coat in a thrift store and wear it, not because it was ugly, but because it was so ugly it was fabulous. I would know more about music and I would be comfortable spending long periods of time alone. That way, I could spend hours on iTunes sampling new hip bands and be totally okay with not interacting with people for an evening. I would give myself pedicures and become the type of person who listens to foreign languages on headphones in order to learn swear words and catch-phrases. NPR and Democracy Now! would consistently color my world. Maybe I would even take initiative and actually do one of the many things that I talk about doing all the time.

The funny thing is, that I do believe that that actually happens - people do re-invent themselves, just maybe not in the totally dramatic ways that we sometimes imagine. We all evolve and we all grow and learn from previous experiences. I think that I am at a turning point in my life and while I’m trying to enjoy it, it is also difficult to let change take effect when I’m second-guessing what could go wrong. My mid-twenties are scaring me shitless, truth be told.

I’m changing and I’m trying to be conscious of it. Is this growing up? I think this is the onset of adulthood and it’s really freaking me out. All I know is that I’m focusing more on being present in my own life and I’m trying to read more. Is that how people get in touch with themselves? Hell if I know; but I’m young and alive and different versions of myself everyday. Re-invention or l-i-v-i-n’ … or both? Or neither. Hmmm.

Why set a tone?

Every good piece of art should set a tone. Now, I’m not claiming that what I write is “art” or that it fits into any kind of category resembling the Mona Lisa, but I suppose I am here to express myself and from what I’ve heard from artists themselves, that is what is known as “Artistic Expression.” Hmmm. Maybe I am an artist afterall.

I used to write a lot when I was a kid - short stories, poems, ideas for elaborate lies that I could tell about myself or my “friends” at some later, undetermined date; I even filled approximately 6.72 college-ruled spiral notebooks with a story I wrote about the Beatles when I was in 7th grade. I was a writer, you could say. However, I have not been a writer for quite sometime. I think a lot of the joy of writing left me when I entered the world of college academia (read: Helloooo alcohol!) and everything suddenly got a lot more functional.

What I mean to say is that my writing was functional.

Let me tell you, there is nothing pleasant about writing a 5 paragraph essay detailing the similarities and differences between Heart of Darkness and “Apocalypse Now.” (Did I do the quotes and italics in the correct way…? Those rules were always the most confusing, which made no sense, because they didn’t/don’t really matter…) Unless you’re a Joseph Conrad junkie who enjoys really graphic violence and Robert Duvall. Taking a stab in the dark, I’m going to guess that person doesn’t exist. Apologies in advance if I turn out to be wrong.

Moving on.

The point is that my extra-curricular activities changed. I was independent, truly, for the first time in my life. I lived without my parents, in a city 400-some-odd miles away, in the notoriously rambunctious Fairhaven Stack 10, where I didn’t even have a roommate to hold me accountable. Damn! Needless to say, I met a lot of rockin’ and rad people that I still pal around with to this day. I learned a lot about myself and life, and what that meant in my own unique context; I considered ideas and studied theories that assisted in the development of contemporary me. During this time, I tested a lot of boundaries, mostly my own but sometimes others, in order to learn what was and was not “okay.” Sounds silly to you, maybe, but it has brought me to this place in life - and this place ain’t so bad. I mean, it could be the Shangri-La, people! — At least it doesn’t stink in this place. Well, usually not in the winter, anyway… Usually.

In the process of becoming Present-Allison, Past-Allison put the pen down. She stopped writing for herself and resigned herself to writing for assignment only. I mean, there was so much writing required that it could have been predicted. But I was surprised then, and I am still surprised by the ease with which I disregarded a passion that I had once held so dear. Where does that go? Why does it go away? Most importantly - Why I have I not missed it that much until now?

Good question. They’re all good questions.

I guess the long-winded point that I’m trying to make is that I’m not a “writer” and I’m not trying to be an “artist” to express my “feelings” on the “internets” in a way that I feel is “important” or necessary to “humanity” - the point is that I’m a douchebag with friends who know the intrawebs like the back of their hand and they were silly enough to provide me with a web address and the proper tools to access it easily. That’s the point.

I talk a lot, I rarely make a coherent argument, I like to criticize society, I debate constantly, I laugh WAY TOO LOUD, my thoughts can drive me crazy if I let them, I love the people in my life, I am lucky and I do like art.

Do I think that this is art?

No. Fuck no. This is for me.

This is me, livin’ my 8th grade dream of writing for pleasure. I just have to re-learn, is all. It may be trying, but I think I’ll get the hang of it.  In this house there are no rules and there is no “tone.” Anything goes.  Enter at your own risk. [That's what she said?] Thank you.

Hello!, and welcome to my blog. Hopefully it will be entertaining in a variety of ways to you, reader. You’ll laugh and cry with me; make fun of me, I’m sure. You’ll know what’s up in my world, learn to see things my way. (Wow, having a blog feels powerful.) Heck, who knows - you’ll probably even want to BE me. I want to be me. Sigh. Good thing I already am. Me, that is; good thing I’m me. (Oh God, this is a preview of what’s to come… that’s what she said! BOOM.)

Anyway. I intend to use this forum as both a constructive slash ridiculously self-loving outlet for my feelings, thoughts and dreams. Some of it will be meaningful. Most of it probably will not. At any rate, as long as you’re here, and I’m here - well, at least we’re in it together! Thank you, if you’re reading this. Thanks for contributing to the ongoing process that I like to refer to as, “The Validation of Allison Ormsby.”

Damn, my name looks good in print.

Without further ado, I give you…. allisonormsby.com — Watch out America! Eh, fuck that. Watch out World. (Yeah, I said it.)

xoxo