A Tale of 'Never Been Kissed'

I've had the privilege of being published in my school's paper, check it out! 

The Northerner: A tale of 'never been kissed'

(p.s. it was in honor of Valentine's Day nearing, and as most of you know, this is real). 

Getting To Know Someone...

I think my problem lies in the fact that I try to break the surface too fast. Sometimes I want to fast forward through the small talk, and really get to know someone. Their goals, their families, their fears, what makes them passionate, etc. and maybe that's too scary to people. 

I, myself am someone who is terrible at nocking down these walls that I have so perfectly built over the years. 

If I think you're cool... Game over. 

I will ask you how your life is, what inspires you, what music best describes your personal soundtrack, etc. if you're cool, I will insist that we hang out and get to know one another. I will sprout out ideas as if I am the Facebook event invites that you receive everyday. I will talk a lot. But I will listen even more. For I want to know you. Like really know you. I want to know what you were like as a child, who your best friends are and why you have that scar below your lip. 

This may be intimidating. This may be pushy, or involve too much prying, but I think it needs to be done. I don't want to have conversation that ends up with us repeating the same monotonous details about ourselves that everyone knows. I want to know interesting stories, quirks that you have and how you came to get a certain nickname. 

Is that weird? 

Maybe I feel as though if someone shares some information with me, they will ask me in return. Making conversation, but digging deeper than the surface. I like having those types of chats where I can see your eyes spark with interest as you discuss in detail the ideas that drive you to success. I want you to realize that I don't get to talk about myself often, and when I do, my eyes start to water-- for I do not get serious very often. But I'm giving you this opportunity, as a two way street to delve into my life as we explore yours as well. 

But I can see how that is terrifying. And I can see why you would not want to partake in this. 

But I want this. I want to not just scratch the surface, I want to learn about you. Work to understand you. I want to "get you".


As always,

live it. love it. caress it.

A Tale of Autopilot Daydreams

Here's the thing about relationships -- much like physics, politics and sports -- I don't understand them.  Yes, I cannot learn from experience… well, because I'm lacking in that department.  The department of love and relationships.  Maybe not so much in love, for I know that love exists, and I know that I am too naive to feel this way just yet.  I love my family, I love my friends, collectively.  I am not close enough to most of them to actually love them, if that makes any sense.  I cherish the word "love."  It means too much to me to be thrown around in everyday language.  I adore TONS of things and people.  I love music, I share a connection with it, it warms my soul, the lyrics transcend into medicine when I'm sad, and continually helps to provide the soundtrack to my life.  

I do fantasize about a prince charming who will whisk me away on his lawn mower, playing some sort of super-perfect song, thrusting his fist in the air, and then we'll skip through tall fields of grass, laying under a blanket of stars and confessing our deepest secrets.  It's a compilation of some of my most vivid dreams and scenes from various rom coms.  I can see all of these pieces of the puzzle falling into place, yet I have yet to figure out who my dream man will be.  And I've learned to be very patient.  I hold out hope that I'll see him on the street, brush into him at a concert, watch him walk into one of my favorite coffee shops, or perhaps he'll be at flipping through old blazers at the local Goodwill. It's untelling.  My dreams tell me that this guy is in my life already, and we share a connection that cannot be undone.  

And I know, I've wrote about this countless times before.  But seriously, I'm constantly learning about life, love and all those other lessons that life hands us along the way.

In recent events, I've been submerged into an immensely chill vibe.  Like, completely chill.  Almost to the point where I cannot concentrate on the various events happening around me.  I am longing for breaks in my day where I can casually write as I please, and warm my soul with music and chai tea.  I know I'm growing up, and maybe that has brought on this sudden change of mood.  I also know am aware that I am not depressed by any means.  Yet, when I try to describe this feeling of "autopilot," I sound dramatic and somewhat delusional.  That's not how it is.  Not at all. Let me try to put it into words...

As the day dwells on, I can feel the moments passing me by.  Slowly and reluctantly, I see images speed past me, people moving and living their everyday lives; while I sit (feeling as though I am) frozen in time.   This is not my declaration of depression.  I don’t think that’s my issue.  I think it’s a touch of senioritis, homesick-ness, allergies and a dash of the love bug.  I can feel my prioritizing getting tossed to the way-side.  Projects that should take me a mere hour or two drag on for days.  I can’t concentrate, sleep sounds splendid throughout the day, and then once I get home, I lack the desire to shut my lids.  Welcome to college?

I have been set to autopilot – simply drifting by, not actually living in the moments -- something I pride myself in.  I’m all about the moments!  Yet, here I sit, when I should be working, I blog.  All I want to do is curl up under my warm blankets, stare at the ceiling fan, drink warm tea, get lost in a trance of superb tunes, and write.  Ideally, I’d like to pause life around me – take a small break for myself, and scratch off some of the items on my to-do list.  But no, I do not have time for that.  I barely have time to eat lunch.  This is sad.  But this is life.

I envy the students who have ample amounts of time to spend watching Netflix, or who can take a stroll through the park.  Even during my times of unscheduled activities, a meeting pops up, an assignment has to get done, and it’s on to the next task.  I need some motivation.  I find myself daydreaming all too often. Doodling during class, planning for days down the road.  With songs constantly playing in my mind, I hum tunes to songs I've never heard of.  Images of past events drift into my imagination.  I’ve got it bad – Usher was right. 

And now, now that I am on a break from classes, I have been able to enjoy some of my hobbies that I used to revel in -- reading, writing, taking photos, painting, and simply soaking up the moments of being around my family.  Too often I toss these simple pleasure to the wayside, trying to make way for things that I've tried to make more important.  But that's not fair.  I must stop and smell the flowers, soak in the moments and embrace life.  And all those other cliches. 

As my "lasts" of college begin, I can feel myself separating myself from college, lunging forward into "real world" or "adult life."  I am in an awkward limbo of embracing and living in the moments of college, all while preparing myself for graduation and a career.  This is life, and this is where I am.  There's nothing wrong with this balance, it's just a little more than what I'm used to.  I'm taking on the ideas of life, moving, boys, various internships, work, school, and my involvement on and off campus.  The daydreaming swells all the while.  Longing to be apart of a "we," and not making time to appreciate the "me" that I currently am.  

And this is my life.  An infatuated, workaholic with a lot on her mind.  Balancing life, friends, school, work, and still managing to dab on a little lip color before heading out the door each morning.  As November nears, I miss my grandma more and more.  She'd understand my dilemmas and provide me with years of knowledge.  So here it is -- my thoughts compiled into one entry.  Somewhat random and all over the place, but hopefully helpful in the declaration of my over-thinking, constantly creative, yet chill vibe.  I've had a lot to think about recently, and this, as they say, is What's In Coco's Hair?. 

Peace,

Chanell 

First Encounter

He caught her stare far too long ago. It seems like years or decades, but it has only been a few short months.  He was gussied up in a suit and tie in the line of the local coffee shop.  The gentleman had a gaggle of girls within arms reach, yet he looked uninterested.  Writing material in hand, she wasn’t sure if he were real.  For she had only seen characters like him on the silver screen, or in drawn-up scenarios in her dreams.  Yes, he was a dream.  He had to be. 

She had to talk to him. This boy. This man. This guy whom had appeared out of no where.  She had frequented that shop so many times prior and had never seen his face.  Was he new to town?  Was he here on business? Or was he in fact a dream -- a figment of her overly-analyzing imagination. 

Yes, he was tall, mysterious, yet so full of life; with vibrant eyes and a charming smile.  With books in hand, she knew he was about to set in on a literary journey, conquer the world, or casually write the next Shakespearean play.  Who knows.  He was a man of adventure and lust as she could see it.  With his hair slicked back, grey pieces mixed to create a suit.  This man was polished.  He was poised.  He was dare we say it... perfect.   

She, an innocent girl standing in line to order a chai tea (most likely), and him, a handsome boy dressed to the nines.  She stood there in shock and utter embarrassment.  She could feel her mouth gaping and her heart stopping.  He had caught her stare.  Not for a moment, but for what felt like an eternity.  He was just the kind of person she’d been praying to stumble upon in one of these romantic-comedy-like scenarios.  And here it was, happening right then and there.

To her. Of all people. 

She doubted the encounter meant anything to him.  But she also knew this was her chance.  She was sure he got that all the time, but she had to talk to him. This guy. 

So, as he finished his order, she tapped his shoulder. 

...There it was, the first touch... 

He turned to look at her.  Time stood still.

She complemented his style... how she was able to utter words is still amazing.  He, in turn, complemented her outfit. Telling her he appreciated anyone who didn’t dress like everyone else.  

She was smitten.  

He had noticed her. 

They exchanged names.  And that was that.  

He was impossibly charming and she was taken back.  Never had she met someone who intimidated, yet mystified her in such a manner as he.  She had only hoped their paths would cross again. 

...

Months went by.  She hadn’t seen him for quite some time. She was sure he had moved.  He'd probably met the exotic love of his life and was sailing around the world at that very moment.  She could tell he had history about him.  He had some stories to tell, and she wanted to hear all of them.  She wanted to listen to old vinyl with him, drink coffee and discuss the dilemmas of the world.  She wanted to spend time with him and just sit in silence.  Taking on the world with one 80s film after another.  But that would never happen. 

Not for her. 

Months passed, and she kept that moment of their first encounter in her mind. She longed for a day when he’d want to sit down with her and talk. About everything and nothing. One of those kind of moments.  They'd drink tea in a crowded coffee shop and exchange stories of their travels and dreams.  

Until their paths cross again, she’ll hold onto that memory of the moment that he caught her stare in that coffee shop on that warm, summer day. 

Coffee Shop Ramblings...

(This was just a little something I'd written a few months ago, and just found in my notes. Enjoy )

Feverishly typing away at an assignment due in the next class, one girl sits in a coffee shop on campus. Amongst the chaos and confusion of the everyday life of a college student, she takes this time to reflect. With books opened, word documents pulled up, she occasionally looks up to familiarize herself with her surroundings. One glance, every few minutes, nothing too major. A quick hello, a wave to a familiar face, and she goes on. More frantic typing, more glancing, she sips her water. As the lyrics and melodies of music fill her eardrums, she looks up. Not to see a blur of people, but to see a boy. A boy whom she knows. A boy whom she admires. This boy, he coyly walks to his seat, not even noticing her. He sits down, ready to take on his world with his MacBook and book bag. Her heart jumps. She can't focus, for he is in her path of sight. His hair perfectly quaffed, with oils and gels. His appearance perfectly vintage, and polished, just the way she likes it.

A girl, types away frantically about a boy. The boy frantically types away about the unknown. Their glances may catch, or they may go on like this for hours. No matter the outcome, her day has been made by the presence of him in the coffee shop amidst the chaos.