30 Days of Truth - Day 13

It just occurred to me that not only have I not blogged in two weeks, I'm not even halfway through my 30 Days of Truth.

Day 13 - A band or artist that has gotten you through some tough ass days (write a letter).

Dear Taylor Swift (you had to know it was coming),


When your first couple CDs came out, I made fun of you.

Okay, okay, I still make fun of you. Most of your songs are about how you love a guy but he likes someone else and you want her man or that you're in love or that you're falling out of love or whatever. But now it's a loving type of joking because I realized that I am exactly like you. At least emotionally when it comes to love because we're both super naive and fall completely without any regrets and it's only in hindsight that we have clarity. I've watched you in interviews and you're quirky and cute, but still with a really beautiful grace that I think so many women our age are missing. I say I want to be you when I grow up all of the time even though you're only a year older.

Sure, your songs a little ridiculous sometimes (If you're reading and you haven't heard "Last Kiss," just listen), but I believe those feelings come from your heart, and when I'm as ridiculous and weepy, you help with the pain.

Also, you're living proof that there are tons of fish in the sea. I'm not calling you a slut or anything, but you date a lot more than you think you do (she said in an interview with Seventeen that she's not always dating someone, but I can name twice as many people she's dated than I have, so....) I still love you.

Maybe one day when I'm rich and famous, we can be friends and bake cupcakes together. We'd totally be friends in real life if I'd met you pre-fame. I wouldn't have made fun of you, and you could teach me how to play guitar and we'd be weird together. Maybe we'd even be a duo instead of just you.

Love,
Essence Beasley

P.S. - I'll admit that I listened to "Last Kiss" on repeat for hours at a time when I first bought your CD. And also that listening to it now still makes me teary, as long as you know that none of this makes it less creepy.

P.P.S. - Also, I dig the straight hair. Almost as much as I like it curly, but not quite.


Also, this is my favorite interview with Taylor Swift. I want that dress, and I love her.

Happy Valentine's Day!

Happy Valentine's Day!

I'm not a romantic at all, but I love any and every holiday that I can celebrate by baking and giving away cupcakes, so it should come as no surprise that I adore Valentine's Day! Pink, hearts, love, roses, and all that jazz, I'll take it! This year, I made cupcakes with, wait for it, strawberry Laffy Taffy buttercream frosting. You know how Laffy Taffy tastes right? Like kinda sour fruit? Well, Laffy Taffy buttercream frosting tastes like a creamy version of that, if that makes sense. It's not really sour, just buttery and light. I was really skeptical at first, and I thought it would taste differently, but now I believe that strawberry Laffy Taffy buttercream frosting is God's gift to mankind.

Normally, I hate sprinkles (I don't like extra chewing), but I made an exception for VDay. Three choices, hot pink sugar; red, pink, and white nonpareils; or red, pink, and white heart confetti.
They look super sweet, but I countered the candy attack by heaping the frosting on plain white cupcakes, then passed them out around Bruce Hall. I hope your Valentine's Day yielded as much sweetness (but less diabetes) as my pan of cupcakes!

30 Days of Truth - Day 12

Day 12 - Something you never get compliments on

I'm rarely, if ever, complimented on my looks.

Growing up, I was always the "smart one" because I had a 10th grade reading level and skipped the first grade. Since I lived in Ennis, Texas, where everyone knows everyone, it was already precedent that I was smart, and people treated me like the smart one. When I moved to Denton though, no one knew anything about me. While it was freeing to not be considered the smart girl, I just earned a new moniker of the "funny one" (which also has its downfalls because now people don't know I graduated with a 3.8, and therefore don't need everything explained to me).

So I've never been the pretty one. Sometimes people say I have a pretty smile or pretty hair (although that's always been after I get a relaxer, one of the reasons I'm going natural), but not "pretty" in general. I always get "cute" which I firmly believe should be reserved for puppies and babies. And while I don't believe I need to be Angelina Jolie, and I don't want people constantly complimenting my looks over any of the other bajillion things that make me me, I'm a 20 year old. I want to be hot or beautiful, not cute. I want to be thought of as attractive, is that so much to ask? But the first person who wasn't related to me to call me pretty was a gay guy (and it's mostly gay guys who say that now). My ex didn't even list pretty or any other form of attractive in the top 5 things he liked about me.

Part of it could be my attraction to tall white boys. Apparently, you ask a guy what celebrity he would sleep with if he could and his answer is his physical type. I have met only one white guy who listed a black girl as his answer, and he picked Beyonce. And in conversations I've heard from guys about girls, the black girls they list are "Pretty/hot/whatever for a black girl," heavy on the implication that black girls aren't as attractive as their white counterparts to begin with. I should really make some black friends.

At any rate, last week when I was shopping with my mom and sister, a saleswoman complimented my sister's and my looks to my mother. She said we have everything, the eyebrows, eyelashes, full lips. "I have to pay for those!" she joked as she slid my mom's purchases across the counter. And you know what? I was happy someone complimented me. It made me feel more attractive, even if it was a middle aged woman instead of a 20 something year old boy. And I'm not sorry about it!

Serena Williams is supposedly my celebrity look alike. If you know of any tall white boys with brown hair and beautiful blue eyes you can get lost in that list her as a celebrity crush, tell them to give me a call.

Exhaustion

This semester, I'm taking alternative processes, advanced surface design, metals and jewelry I, media writing, and general psychology I for a total of 15 hours. That's three studios people (the classes where I actually learn techniques and make art)!

Most semesters, I'd only be taking 12 hours, but since I added my journalism minor, I need to take an extra 18 hours of journalism classes, which means adding on to my already hectic schedule. It's only the third week of school, and I'm exhausted. I normally sleep a lot because I'm just not a high-energy person, but lately I've been skipping the naps and flat out passing out when I go to bed around midnight then waking up at 6 am to start all over.

I happened to be talking about my tiredness at church, I don't remember if I was necessarily complaining or not, and one of the other college students was all, "Don't complain! I'm taking 15 hours, and I have a job, and I go to church, blah blah blah...." I hate it when people do that.

Sure, I may have been complaining, but why jump in and reprimand me by listing your problems? If I listed out everything that I do including my classes, I'm involved. Let's not forget that I attend the exact same church. I also attend a different church occasionally. I started attending a different Bible study than the first two with another one of my friends, and I joined their choir. I've been going to a yoga class. I have Fibers Club, and I'm joining the National Association of Black Journalists. I don't have a job, but that's because I spend what precious free time I have divided between working for the studios and going to movies. Seriously, I spent three hours of our first Saturday after classes started in the metals lab. I spent another 5 in the fibers lab on Friday dyeing my shibori pieces. I'm throwing a baby shower. I'm making my sister's Band Banquet dress. I'm not lazy, I work hard, and I have every right to be tired.

I know everyone took art in grade school, and it seems all easy, but really it's work. Not only do I have to create something that didn't exist before I made it, I have to have a concept for it. My first project for alternative processes is to make a three dimensional sculpture out of nothing but 1 yard of white fabric, a needle, and white thread. Isn't that just insane?

I just really hate it when people try to put me down for what I do or make what they do seem more important. Like what I'm feeling is just nothing compared to how tragic their life is, like it's a competition, like somehow they're more successful because they have more things to be exhausted about so they can belittle and look down on me. I guess the real point is, I may complain and whine, but I love what I do, and I work just as hard for what I want. Maybe I need to blow off steam every once in awhile, but I wouldn't trade my life for anything, even if it means I would win the "My Life is Stressful and More Exhausting Than Yours" award (And for the record, I was taking 15 hours last semester and working, and I had a part-time job over the winter break, and I applied for several jobs after my temporary one, I just haven't heard from anyone and I'm not really trying anymore because of said exhaustion, although I wouldn't turn anything down).

And I'm going to try harder this year to post pictures of my work because I'm slowly getting to the point where I can make what I want and not worry about just getting a good grade.

My life.

30 Days of Truth - Day 11

Day 11 - Something people seem to compliment you the most on.

Strangely, the thing I get the most compliments on is something I don't control. I didn't choose it, but everyone seems to like my name. Whenever I meet someone new they always seem to ask if my name really is Essence, which it is, and then they remark on the general coolness or beauty of my name. And since I'm constantly meeting new people, it happens a lot. It happened today actually. The girl who took my order at the bookstore thinks my name is pretty.

However, my mom named me. So maybe the compliment really goes to her?

The Infiniti Essence. Almost as good as me. Almost.

30 Days of Truth - Day 10

Day 10 - Someone you need to let go of, or wish you didn't know

So far, this has been the easiest question to answer, which only sounds horrible when you first read it. Actually, probably afterward too, but I will get to explain myself: I chose my ex-boyfriend.

Not the "wish you didn't know" part though, that's harsh, even for me. But the need to let go of part is definitely my problem.

See, I don't like a lot of guys, romantically, that is. I'm infinitely picky, especially when it comes to dating. So when I do like a guy, when I can see myself with them, I have a tendency to latch on and obsess and worry. Probably all of the most unattractive traits a female can have, and I have them all.

I know that's what made my ex break up with me in the first place, but I'm not sorry. I can't apologize for feeling what I felt or saying what I said because I felt it and I meant it. I need follow Shakespeare's words and stay true to myself because pretending I'm not a passive aggressive control freak with mild paranoia and a caustic tongue would ultimately end the same way.

At any rate, I need to let go because I'm not going to get another guy with my tunnel vision. Getting married and/or dating is not my primary (or even secondary) goal, but I would eventually like to settle down and feel like a guy besides my dad loves me. I'm still going to be hella picky though. My last relationship did teach me a lot about what I really want in someone I'm stuck with 'til death do us part.

So here's to the guy who gets that I'm a little neurotic but doesn't give me cause to be; the guy who knows and accepts me for who and what I am before asking me to change; the guy who articulates as well as he listens; the guy who can dish it out as good as he can take it; the guy who's as honest as he is funny; the guy who doesn't have to decide, but knows; the guy who means forever and always (TAYLOR SWIFT REFERENCE. Did you catch it?); and may I be ready to let go of the past, accept him, and be as intense as ever because that's how I roll.

Also, it wouldn't hurt if he looked like Prince Eric*.

If he weren't animated, and therefore not real, I would kill that damn mermaid for him. Look at his eyes! And that dimple for Pete's sake! I'd so win too.

* Although I'm flexible on this one. I'll also accept Hercules, John Smith, or Aladdin. What is Disney hunks for $1000, Alex?

30 Days of Truth - Day 9

I'm glad the 30 Days of Truth doesn't have to take exactly 30 days. Also, I need to step it up. I'm only on day 9.

Day 9 - Someone you didn't want to let go, but just drifted.

The drifting thing happened to around 90% of my friends from high school. But since I didn't really like high school, I guess it's okay.

Then again, it also happened to about 90% of my college friends too. But if I'm choosing one, I pick Sam.

Sam is the first person I was really friends with when I came to UNT. We were both in the flute section for the Green Brigade, one day she asked me to eat lunch with her, and we hit it off from there. She introduced me to Cassandra, who is now my best friend and roommate, so it seems weird that we're not close anymore. The Sam I knew was great though. She was completely open. Does that make sense? Like not afraid to be a complete and total weirdo in front of strangers, cool with being herself, if that makes sense. When I first meet people I'm always afraid to be me at first because I'm pretty sure I scare people. Eventually though, I let it slip that I'm a complete freak, and then I just wait for them to run, but not Sam. She was weird to your face, she didn't hesitate to say what she was thinking, and I like that in people.

My original group was Sam, Julian, Anthony, and Cassandra, and it was the first time that I ever really "hung out" with my friends. My parents were over-protective, and they freaked out about boys and everything else, so for the first time, I was free. I had a group of friends who hadn't known me since kindergarten, who didn't know about my parents, who hadn't pre-judged me, and who actually liked me. But things happened. The melodrama that shouldn't be a big deal, but is because that's the definition of melodrama, and everything is crazy and nonsensical. Cracks and rifts form, sides are chosen, and you just have to wait for the dust to settle before you know what's going on. The things everyone claims to hate but just can't seem to get away from, you know?

I went out with her to dinner a couple months back in hopes of regaining what was lost, but she seemed more interested in past actions then focusing on me and the future, so I don't think I'll be doing that again, but we drifted, and I miss that crazy, cool, funny girl who taught me to laugh at myself.

Plaid Day (my camera doesn't like white people)!