BB Fanboy Post

I am a week and a half late on this prompt because I have not been able to think of something that I'm obsessed with. The problem isn't that I'm not obsessed with anything. To the contrary, actually. I feel like I'm always saying, "Ohmigod I'm obsessed with this," likely because I have a fear that if I go around saying I love everything -- I love these shoes I love that car I love this risotto -- then I will cease to remember what it means to actually love. Love will then just turn into another qualifier, another way to express beauty or desire or, yes, obsession. But claiming that I'm obsessed with something isn't that much better, now is it? It may even be worse, to go around claiming I am so entirely and inclusively wrapped up in one thing that everything else just falls away and I can only care about that one thing which consumes all my brain power. Dude. Kinda effed up.

I'll tell you what I'm obsessed with right now (and this is not what my post is going to be about): I'm obsessed with my eye twitching. I'm prone to eye twitches, and supposedly they are hereditary, or might be, so my dad can sympathize. But this is the worst one I've ever had. It started, like... 6 weeks ago or something? It started one day and then was fairly relentless for a month; in the beginning, I had some breaks. Then it turned into a constant irritation. I got so fed up that I called the first optometrist's office that popped up on the list of Maksin-covered doctors and cried to the receptionist that this was interfering with my life. So I went to get glasses and my doctor (who wore glasses and a white lab coat) told me everything I already knew -- that this is caused by stress or anxiety, fatigue, and too much caffeine -- and wrote me a prescription for the most mild pair of glasses ever.

Except they help me, and now I am obsessed with them. (Except this isn't what this post is going to be about, either.)

Last week, the eye twitching stopped. All together. I had one whole week of no twitching. THEN. On Saturday, it started again. I was up super early for the farmer's market and while in the bathroom I felt it coming. One little twitch at a time. And then, all day, relentless. Until it stopped, of course, after I went to the gym.

Now I'm home, in Vancouver, and it won't stop. Maybe I'm stressed about Mallory's wedding. Likely, it's a combination of things (whole otha' post that ain't even ever gonna get written), but it's started again, full swing. It's worse now that it was before: it's not so much a pounding, but more like a vibration on my eyelid. Before, I just started dealing with it. Ignoring it. It had become a part of me. I was Lauren with the Eye Twitch. Now, it was all I could do to not seriously hurt myself last night by, like, trying to take my eyeball out of my head. And with my luck, I would then just be out one eye and my lid would continue to twitch. HA.

I didn't want to do anything yesterday but wallow in my annoyance. I didn't call Drea till, like, 6:30, when I should have called her much earlier, because it turned out that the best part of my day was going to Portland and talking with her for hours over (pretty fucking large) glasses of red wine. Then, when I came home and my dad was still awake, we talked for almost two hours and it was one of those talks where you're reminded that there are people in the world that see you as you want to see yourself. There are people that think you are the goddamn bee's knees -- the smartest, the most beautiful, the most fulfilling person for them. Sometimes I need to be reminded of the things other people see in me (especially people like my dad, because he basically loves me more than anyone and he makes it plain-as-day obvious and I love him for it) because otherwise, I end up festering in my own self-hatred. Okay, not really, but I always see the bad shit in myself. I always focus on the self-esteem (lack thereof), and the fears, and the idiotic notions that I have about how other people think of me behind my back. (Can you think something behind someone's back?? I guess what I mean is, how people really feel about me, not just what they say to my face.) So, anyway, sometimes it's nice to be reminded that there is at least one person out there that loves you unconditionally and only, only, only wants you to be happy, at whatever price to themselves.

SO. ANYWAY. My dad was like, "You have to think of your eye twitch as like a friend." I looked at him cockeyed. He said that whenever his shoulder starts hurting, he thinks, there it is again. It's just a part of him. Like this twitch in my eye has become a part of me. It's like, my quirk. My buddy. I can't make it go away, so all I can do is accept it. Luckily, I know it won't last forever.

God, this post is windy as hell. Good thing, like, two people read my blog. And they already know that I have a tendency to blather on and on and on...

So, that is my current obsession. So, of what am I a fanboy?! There are so many things I could put here: my dog, for instance. Oh my God, I adore him. I always forget about it, too, until I come home just how much I love that little dog. This morning, I sat down by his bed to scratch behind his ears, and he looked at me kind of sleepily, stuck his tongue out a bit as if to say, "If I had more energy right now, I'd lick your hand with affection," and then rested his head against my arm. Right now, my dad is getting ready to take him for a walk, so Jack's bounding around the house after him while he throws garbage away, puts stuff in the garage, washes his hands, unwraps a cigar. In fact, as I sit here right now, in the living room with my Macbook on my lap, my dad tossed a pair of shoes onto the wood flooring in front of the door and said sympathetically, "Boy, it sure does take a long time to get ready, huh, Mr. Dog?" And Jack just kept staring at him, as if to say, "I will follow you around this house until you put that leash on me. Then it's on." They just left. He's a happy pup.

But that's not what I was going to talk about! HAH. Get to the damn point, Laur.

I decided to write my post about being a fanboy of being happy. I freely admit that I am obsessed with being happy. I know what will make me happy, too; it's just a matter of time, and money, before I get there. Here is my happy-making list, in no particular order.

I need:

1. A house that I own, where I can paint the walls in every room a different color. The house will be old, lived in, but not run down. It will have personality, and beauty radiating out of the window sills. The ceilings will be low, the carpet will be plush and the wood will be stained a perfect shade of deep, deep cherry. When you walk into my house, you will feel an overwhelming sense of joy, as if the house said to you, "Welcome. Please make yourself at home in me. I want you to be happy here." (This is gonna take a lot of work, and not just physical labor, either.)
2. A dog. A doggy of my own. A little pup that I bring home, nurture the fear away, and then turn into a kind dog, who loves and adores and listens to commands like "stay." That's an important one.
3. A job that I love. This may take a while, too, but luckily I have many interests and (I think?) many different skills and I am also generally happy doing whatever pays the bills, so to speak. However, I will hold out for that that job. You know. The one that feels like it was created just for you. Problem is, I don't really know what that job is yet. Or maybe that's not a problem. Maybe that's a very good sign.
4. Love. Everywhere. At home with me, in that house, with the colored walls and the puppy. Love outside those walls and beyond the front yard, living in the homes of my friends. Love across the state, or across the country, or across the world, in the homes of my family. Love love love love love... gimme it.

Aaaaand that's it. I think. It almost seems too easy, huh? "That's all you want, Lauren?" Yeah, I guess so. I suppose if I had to add one more thing to the list, it would be money. But not the money that buys you summer homes and private jets and Olympic-sized pools. Just the kind of money that lets you buy your little multi-colored house, and dog food (as well as people food), and helps you with car payments, and maybe saves up enough one day for a boat. That's all I really want. A bit of money to be comfortable. Not lavish. Because those things aren't important to me. I'm not a show-off, and I feel like I'm learning this more and more with each passing day of my life.

So, there you have it. I'm a fanboy of my own happiness. (Selfish? Maybe, but it's a lot easier to be altruistic and helpful and kind when you're happy yourself, so maybe happiness in one's own life just helps perpetuate an overarching worldly feeling of warmness, charitableness, and love.)