Kryptonite

I dislike when a fellow I’m fond of knows too much about me.

I feel vulnerable and weak.

I like meeting new people because they have no idea who I am and it’s quite comical when they’re shocked about my outgoing, crazy personality. I guess my physical appearance gives off a whole different vibe.

But when you really start to like a certain someone, naturally you develop holes in one another that fill with new stories.

What frightens me most, I think, is that when this certain someone leaves they take with them everything you’ve shared.

Sometimes I wish I hadn’t shared so much information with some people. Sometimes I feel like they weren’t worthy of knowing me inside and out.

Sometimes I wonder if they became bored of me because they found out everything there is to know – there are no surprises left.

But then what if I’m speaking with fate’s true love right at this moment and I refuse to share vital things about me because of this fear?

I know I trust too many people and am far too forgiving, that there have been people who have passed through my life who should not have left without some bruising…

There is so much more to me than I could ever show or tell and I fear that one day I may give away all my secrets to someone who isn’t willing to put up with them.

Superman’s fatal weakness was kryptonite – a solid, realistic, inanimate object. Mine is losing who I am, losing my soul.

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The Power of Technology

Yesterday evening we had some lovely family friends come over whom I haven’t seen since…God knows when. Among food and wine blossomed the conversation that seems to come up in every get together with people above the age of forty-five: technology.

Talk of cellular devices in the hands of younglings (which I full-heartedly disagree with) and talk of how body language is no longer understood.

It is interesting that this generation will struggle so much with creating face-to-face conversations because of the growth of technology.

Like everything, technology has it’s pros and cons.

My sister, in her fourth year at Carleton University studying Linguistics, explained how one of her Professors uses Apple’s iPad to help children in her speech therapy classes because it is simple to swipe colourful and bright images that capture one’s eye.

Technology has also helped us learn knew things about the body, about curing illnesses and even what could be hundreds of light years away in space.

The advancement of technology is a really beautiful thing that I am thankful for. However it has been played with and abused by so many people world wide – which I must say I am guilty for as well.

A couple weeks ago I was sitting on the subway heading downtown when I saw a family across from me. The little girl and boy both had their own iPod Touches to play games on while the Mother and Father scrolled through their own personal cellphones. They were silent and “content”.

Honestly, I was disgusted.

Where has the art of conversation gone?

You hand your children cellphones to keep them quiet so you don’t have to deal with them screaming?

Teach them some freaking discipline for goodness sake.

The massive rise of mental illness is being questioned and I force it all onto technology.

Cyber bullying is huge. People hide behind their computers and cellphones, typing out awful words to bring down someone else that they wouldn’t dare say face-to-face. This generation is cowardly and pathetic.

Not to mention the whole breaking up with someone via text message which I won’t even begin to talk about because I could go on for days about how upsetting it is that we profess our love through Twitter and text messages and photos of couples kissing on Facebook.

Facebook is used to make other people jealous of a seemingly fantastic life one is living. When in reality everyone is sitting with their laptops “creeping” other people and only growing more envious of how many “likes” someone has per photo.

It’s brutal. It’s nauseating. We are ALL guilty.

Back to my main point of how the use of instant messaging is ruining this generation’s ability to create conversation…

When you talk to someone you look into their eyes, it is THERE that you see what emotion they’re portraying with what they are trying to say.

Body language is huge, absolutely HUGE.

I cannot express how important it is to understand a person’s body language, it says it all. I feel bad for the children of this generation when they go for their first job interview and don’t know how to act professionally or keep up a conversation on a first date.

Just kidding, I don’t feel bad whatsoever because it’s just pathetic.

We receive a text saying, “Hey.”

Or, we receive a text saying, “Hey!”

That subtle difference of a freaking exclamation mark makes the person seem happier to talk to you – you get a warmer vibe…from a freaking text message.

I just slammed that ending period down so hard on that sentence that’s how strongly I feel about this.

I once knew a guy who put the winking face after everything he said,

“Hey ;)”

“Not much, how about you? ;)”

“Ya, I like pizza a lot ;)”

*Facepalm*

Not to mention the worst of all being how many times a person has to check their phone while in conversation. That irks me the most.

Seriously? You can’t leave your phone alone for two minutes to talk to me?

You probably don’t even have a text!

This generation is failing to understand that you cannot hide behind a computer or phone screen forever, that one day you’re going to have to wake up and face the person you just called a “slut” over Facebook chat.

And I bet you dollars to donuts that that criminal will act as though nothing happened because they don’t know how to deal with it in a realistic situation.

No wonder so many kids had problems with presentations in front of the class.

You

I think I’m in love with you.

No, no – I know I’m in love with you.

I am completely, utterly, whole-heartedly in love with you.

Every single moment of the day you cross my mind and it’s because of the simplest things. I don’t even force you in there, it’s just like you’re always in my head, just hanging out and waiting beside my cerebellum to jump in and screw up my thought pattern.

I’m with my pals, we’re heading out for a late night breakfast downtown and all I think is, You would have really loved this.

Or we’re just walking down the street, or I’m in class, or I see a freaking dog and I’m like, I wish we were hanging out and talking and joking around about the person who just tripped.

And I just get so mad at myself, you know? Because I know that nothing will ever work out and I know because we’ve talked about it.

And it bloody sucks let me just tell you that because I would try really damn hard to make things work out between us.

But I feel like there’s never a right time to talk to you about us – and I don’t even know if you want to talk about us.

Or if there even still is an “us” for you.

And my friends say that I should initiate the conversation but we both know I would never do that because when have we ever openly talked about our feelings with each other?

There was that one time we were eating pizza on the curb outside of Joe’s and you started talking about your Mom and it was one of the best moments with you. I mean, it was real sad but I loved how you felt like you could talk to me about something like that.

I know we didn’t get to finish that conversation and I always wanted to ask you about it but how in the world do you say “Hey man, remember that time you were telling me about how your Mom was dying? Could we continue that?”

I don’t know if you talk to many people about that, but it felt awesome when you opened up about something that deep and I thought, Holy shit, just don’t say anything. Don’t say a word because you’re going to ruin it. Because we both know how much I like to talk and I don’t even like the sound of my own voice.

But that was the only time I ever really felt like you actually liked me as a friend, like you felt okay with being closer to me.

I don’t think I intentionally fell in love with you. I don’t think that’s how people fall in love.

To be honest I just wanted to be “bros”, like how I am with every other guy.

But I felt so pretty that day we went downtown to the Jazz Festival in my red sundress and the weather was stupid nice and I’d never spent a whole day with a guy by myself without wanting to punch him.

And then you kissed me and it was probably one of the best first kisses I’ve ever had.

It was that slow kind of kissing, not just a peck on the lips where it happens so quickly that you’re wondering if it even happened at all.

No no, this kiss happened. It happened and it was glorious and I wanted to cry because the butterflies in my stomach were going wild.

There wasn’t one distinct moment where I was like That’s it, I love him! It just kind of grew on me when I realized how much I thought about you and how much I missed you when I wasn’t hanging out with you and how I spent a lot of my time replaying every moment of our previous hang out wondering if I said or did something completely bizarre that would make you never want to talk to me again.

And I’ve never been that self-conscious about myself around a guy.

I’ve always had this air about me when I’m hanging out with the opposite sex that’s just like, I really don’t care if you think I’m sexy because I’m too crazy and loud to be attractive anyways. 

I think the fact that I had accepted myself as being a “bro” always made me less nervous around guys, and that’s why I’ve always preferred to hang out with them – I felt like they never judged me.

And you were like that at first, and then I don’t even know what happened to change that.

Maybe it was just my foolish mind. Or maybe it was how much you liked John Mayer and could play his songs on the guitar and how you never sang in front of me but there’s this thing about your voice that I’m crazy about.

And that little laugh you do gets me every time.

And I love how you tell me my hair looks so good up in a ponytail.

And you have the nicest eyes.

And I love those times when I catch you looking at me and we make eye contact and it’s just for a brief moment but I actually melt inside. Like I can feel every part inside of me get really warm, and then you make me nervous and I feel like I have to compose myself or I’m just going to scream.

And you always made me smile.

So yes, I’m in love with you and that’s that.

It’s simple but it’s really not simple at all.

And I don’t just say this kind of thing about anyone, not even my past. So you should just let those words sink in for a minute because that means a ton coming from someone like me.

Circle of Life

Today, I came to the realization that all I do is unintentionally complain about the idiocy of other people.

And right now I’m kind of feeling guilty about it.

And then I realize how sad it is that I, Victoria Gubiani, am feeling guilty and upset about harping on a knowledgable society that prefers to dumb itself down.

And then I just go back to shaking my head at some of the choices people make.

And that, my friends, is the circle of my life.

Y.

Y du ppl tlk lk dis on twitr?

Idgi.

R we tryng 2 b funni?

R we mkn fun of sum1?

Idgi.

Social media has seriously screwed the younger generation over in the literate world. See ya later, I’m going to read some John Green while my heart throbs from his glorious and witty writing.

Victims

Why must everybody refer to themselves as a victim?

They do it unintentionally, of course, but they still do it.

I scroll through tweets on my home page and it’s packed with people and how “awful” their lives are because ONE; they’ll never be able to finish this seven billion page exam, TWO; they’re so ugly “why does Jesus hate me?”, and THREE; boys will never like me (but typed out in some sad, depressing T-Swift lyrics).

And I fully understand that people have bad days, I totally get it.

And I understand that people need to rant and blah blah blah I feel all that, but I’m just so over seeing tweets on the daily about how awful their lives are and “can it get any worse!?”.

Uhh ya, pretty sure it can so let’s just re-freaking-lax on your first world problems and see a bigger picture here – YOU LIVE A GOOD LIFE, I GUARANTEE.

I’m quite an optimistic person and I tend to look at the prettier side of things, but hey there have been some pretty shitty moments in my life too. You analyze them, you learn from them and you move past them.

C’est la vie.

Why do people have to linger on the past? What does holding onto your past do for your future? Please, somebody tell me.