The winner takes it all (the loser has to fall)...

I don't wanna talk
About the things we've gone through
Though it's hurting me
Now it's history
I've played all my cards
And that's what you've done too
Nothing more to say
No more ace to play

The winner takes it all
The loser standing small
Beside the victory
That's her destiny

I was in your arms
Thinking I belonged there
I figured it made sense
Building me a fence
Building me a home
Thinking I'd be strong there
But I was a fool
Playing by the rules

The gods may throw a dice
Their minds as cold as ice
And someone way down here
Loses someone dear
The winner takes it all
The loser has to fall
It's simple and it's plain
Why should I complain.

But tell me does she kiss
Like I used to kiss you?
Does it feel the same
When she calls your name?
Somewhere deep inside
You must know I miss you
But what can I say?
Rules must be obeyed

The judges will decide
The likes of me abide
Spectators of the show
Always staying low
The game is on again
A lover or a friend
A big thing or a small
The winner takes it all

I don't wanna talk
If it makes you feel sad
And I understand
You've come to shake my hand
I apologize
If it makes you feel bad
Seeing me so tense
No self-confidence
But you see
The winner takes it all
The winner takes it all...

*I absolutely HATE feeling this way. Every time something happens to me that shakes me up emotionally, I can't help but go back to that time... When I felt so small, so sad, and somehow I'm dragged into it all over again, perpetuating the vicious cycle. Sigh, the winner does indeed take it all.*

Quarter life crisis...

I am about 22 hours away from turning 25 and I just cannot sleep.

(NOTE: I still think I am under some type of Cuban Santeria curse, by the way. My insomnia really has no logical explanation and in all honesty, I admit that I have cracked enough Cuban jokes to deserve a curse. In my defense, a good 20% of those jokes were not ill-intentioned. See, I'm joking again. Ugh! You people have no sense of humor. But regardless, I'm deeply saddened by the fact that two or three chickens were probably sacrificed because of said curse. I've paid my dues, please stop. Learn to take a joke, dude!!!)

Continuing with the topic at hand, I was watching 30 Rock, laying on my bed, when I dozed off and woke up a few minutes later only to find myself not only looking rather disheveled, but also feeling somewhat disturbed. My right leg was dangling from one side of the bed, my hair was in a cataclysmic mess (so cataclysmic in fact that I should not have even mentioned it - so, yea forget I brought it up, ok? I don't want you having mental images of my curly hair in all its splendor.) I said to myself (aloud, mind you), "Krizia Bandy, what on Earth are you doing with your life???" And then it hit me, I'm about to turn 25, and all of my expectations about what I would have accomplished by the time I'd reached this age are completely unfulfilled. (Well, not all of them - I did graduate college already, haven't aborted a baby, or gotten an STD for that matter, either, oh, and I certainly haven't gotten married in Vegas after a night of drunken debauchery!!! So, yay me!) Anyways, I realized that I am probably going through what has been dubbed as a quarter life crisis. As usual, I turned to my good ol' pal Wikipedia to read more on the subject and found that a quarter life crisis can have several of the following characteristics. Let's take a look shall we:

- confronting one's own mortality - ✓: I've already accepted the fact that I will die one day (in the distant, distant future) and no longer fear death. (Okay, not so bad.)
- insecurity concerning ability to love oneself, let alone another person - ✓: I don't need to explain this one if you read what I said about my cataclysmically messy hair. I need to learn to love the 'fro!!! But in all seriousness, sometimes I do wonder if I'm "cut out" for love. It's not that I'm exceedingly selfish, but it seems to me that sometimes there is a dilemma between loving yourself and loving someone else: why should you have to give up so many of the things you love about yourself in order to love someone else? I don't find it to be fair, but hmm, maybe that is just me. (This deserves an entire post on its own.)
- insecurity regarding present accomplishments - ✓: I did get into NYU's Graduate School and have lost 20 pounds, but I wanted to get into Columbia and lose 40... (What can I say? I've always been an overachiever.)
- re-evaluation of close interpersonal relationships - ✓: I've had to get rid of a whole myriad of "friends" because they just weren't up to par. In fact, I'm holding auditions for new ones. Anyone want to be a member of my posee? Get in line behind Lady Gaga, Ke$ha, and Rihanna (okay, maybe not Rihanna, she's a bit too raunchy...)
- lack of friendships or romantic relationships, sexual frustration, and involuntary celibacy - ✓✓✓ - Pretty much self-explanatory. I won't continue to dig my own grave with this one.
- disappointment with one's job - ✓: I'd say, or "lack of a job"
- nostalgia for university, college, high school, middle school or elementary school life - ✓✓✓: 305 4 EVA!!! ♥ (visualize me trying to do that 305 hand sign, hehe)
- tendency to hold stronger opinions - ✓: I am RIGHT. ALWAYS. And you are wrong. Just deal with it. ::finger snap::
- boredom with social interactions - ✓: God, yes!!! I said, "Let's go to the OPERA," NOT "Let's watch OPRAH." But then again, there is no opera in Honduras... maybe I should be more lenient? (Yea, right.)
- loss of closeness to high school and college friends -✓✓✓ Again, self-explanatory. People change, though. No hard feelings.
- financially-rooted stress (overwhelming college loans, unexpectedly high cost of living) - ✓: Actually, this one isn't so bad. Fortunately, I was able to get out of college without any school loans (thanks to my parental units, naturally) and I have enough money in the bank to actually be considering a trip to Europe sometime this summer, but still... I SHOULD be making like a million dollars (a month) by now!!!
- loneliness, depression and suicidal tendencies - ✓: Yes, except for the suicidal tendencies part, those have actually tamed down as of late. (I think it's probably because of all the endorphins. Either that, or they're just putting "happy chemicals" into the food we consume here in Honduras. Hey, it's totally possible. Those baleadas are soooo addictive. Note: Baleadas are one of Honduras's most original and popular foods. A baleada is a wheat flour tortilla, often quite thick, folded in half and filled with mashed fried beans, cheese, and cream.)
- desire to have children - N/A - Wooooooooooo! One that does not apply due to the fact that I am like allergic to children (and I think children are allergic to me, too.) THANK GOD!
- a sense that others are doing better than oneself - ✓: Don't most people feel this way, though? Aren't we all all vindictive, conniving creatures deep down, always lusting over what others have? No? (Oh, right. Maybe this is just one of those girl secrets that I should not have revealed. Oops. Sorry!!!)
- frustration with social skills - ✓: I'm writing on my blog at 2:30am on a Friday? Yea, my social skills are currently lacking. But, I was DA BOMB in college! I was even BIG IN JAPAN, for crying out loud!!! UGH!

So yea, I think that's settled. Phew, I feel much better now that it's out in the open! Actually, the fact that there is a whole Wikipedia article written about it makes me feel like I'm not alone in this world. I say we form an alliance: Quarter Life Crisis Sufferers Unite (QLCSU.) Yea, I'll admit the name could improve - but it's 2:30am people?! What do you expect!!!??? My vocabulary isn't at its bestest right now. (Yes, that was a joke. Albeit, a lame grammar-based one, but an intentional joke, nonetheless. I can be funny too, you know? Seriously, I know I'm rumored to be wise beyond my years and all, but I do like to joke every so often. Hint, hint: Cuba! hehe)

In conclusion, Happy Mother Effin' Birthday to me! =) Cheers!

Note: Contrary to what some people may think of me (not that I'm overly concerned with others's opinions, because again, I'm right and they're wrong, hehe), I truly believe that being able to laugh at and make fun of oneself is a necessary trait to have.

"Don't take life too seriously. You'll never get out of it alive."

Mini update...

I know what you're thinking - "how can someone with so much free time be neglecting her blog in this deplorable manner??? That's just inexcusable." Well, in my defense, I will retort by saying that I have been feeding my brain with creative ideas! (And I've been working out like crazy, too.) I did have a mini-update last week, which included pictures of me before and after having lost 20 pounds, but I quickly took it down because it was a kind of a "limited edition post." Hehe. (Oh, how I delude myself with my ideas of grandeur and that people actually care. Some of you do care, I know. God bless your hearts.)

In any case, I have been reading Tina Fey's "Bossypants" and have started to watch her show 30 Rock. I must say, it was quite a delightful surprise. I expected the humor it contained to be vulgar and common, but quite the contrary. It's witty and very context-based, meaning that you MUST be in tune to popular culture to "get" it. If popular culture and current events aren't your thing, then I'm sorry to say that you are out of luck. If you're under 35 and are out of touch with popular culture, then I dare say I feel sorry for you. Yea, that's right. Rejoice your youth! C'mon, admit it! Everyone likes at least one Lady Gaga song. It's OK. It's much better to like her NOW than 20 years down the road (when you find yourself hating your spouse and your children, listening to a compilation CD called "Best of the '10's" as you down a whole galloon of cheap beer.)

I've also started reading Erik Larson's "In the garden of beasts," which is a non-fiction narrative that talks about Ambassador Dodd, the man in charge of the US embassy in Germany during Hitler's Third Reich. So far, it's quite good. I really like the author's style - he pays attention to detail without going overboard, provides enough foreshadowing to keep the reader interested, etc.

Oh, and I've also discovered Fran Lebowitz! This woman is a genius. I actually came randomly across the HBO documentary titled "Public Speaking," directed by Martin Scorsese, which is essentially a compilation of many of Lebowitz's talks and interviews. She has a very keen perception of society, and she isn't afraid to speak what's on her mind. Truth be told, I have become such a fan that I have bought all of her books (she only has 2 for she claims that she's been suffering from a severe case of writer's block since the 80's.) Some of my favorite quotes by her:
"Think before you speak. Read before you think."
"Your life story would not make a good book. Don’t even try." (So true for some people!)
"Romantic love is mental illness. But it's a pleasurable one. It's a drug. It distorts reality, and that's the point of it. It would be impossible to fall in love with someone that you really saw."

In any case, all of these different ideas that have been pouring into my mind lately have actually motivated me to try my hand at writing some form of social commentary. The main issue that I have is that I truly want it to be witty. I can sit here and write a 10-page essay analyzing some social problem in a jiffy, but I want whatever I write to have the same "charming, yet somewhat ironic" qualities that I do. A friend has even suggested that I try my hand at playwriting. So, there is a lot going on, at least intellectually, in my life right now...

I still haven't forgotten about the "Health" post that I promised you, so I will try to finish that up sometime this week. Before bidding you all with adieu, I want to share with you one of the latest songs I recorded. Take care my peeps!

mein Fluch.

I'll tear a page from your book
And then I'll swallow it whole,
That's all your words will be worth,
You've got no conscience, no soul.

You're a demon walking in disguise,
You're not a modern-day sage,
Just an oversexed vamp,
Sucking me dry, leaving me dazed.

You're surrounded by a great veil,
There's a darkness that looms,
You're just a coward, the mere imitation of a man,
You've written your own doom.

And you'll forget me, I know.
You've justified your offense.
For you're lethargic and cold...
But to no one other than me did you ever make sense.

A mere delusional fool,
With fake ideas of grandeur,
You don't rule over me anymore,
This crown has finally overpowered you.

But these words, a facade
Only meant to conceal,
That I've been ricocheting around,
Trying hard not to feel.

Both scripture and magical charms
Have failed at exorcising you from my mind,
How can we love what causes us so much harm?
An end to my curse I am praying to find.

*As you might've guessed by the picture, this was inspired by a few songs from Gaga's new album, particularly "Bloody Mary." It's really dark and deep, and has a few references that would only be understood given the context of the situation to which this is referring to. In any case, I really do have to add that although this was written now, it's really retrospective. Like a good friend told me, "time organizes our ideas." So yea, let me know what you think!

Born this way...

I'll be alright...

On March 1, 2011, I got an email from NYU’s Graduate School informing me that I had been accepted into the MA program. My first reaction was obviously of complete and utter happiness, but reality started to settle in soon after. NYU’s MA program would end up costing me somewhere around $100,000. OUCH! Although I know my parents would help me out if this figure was somewhere around $20,000-$30,000, asking them for $100k seemed a bit too much. So, I started doing research for scholarships, grants, loans, etc. Unfortunately, I found myself running into many dead-ends: most deadlines for scholarships had already passed (at least for 2011) and most decent loans (and by decent, I mean loans not having skyscraper-high interest rates) required me to be a US resident. At the same time, my mother was diagnosed with a serious medical condition and was told that she probably needed surgery (she’d already been told that she needed 2 other surgeries for other reasons.) Some of you know that my older brother also has an ongoing medical issue and might need surgery as well. Furthermore, my family and I are still waiting for a final decision with regards to our US residency. All of this just added up and I decided that at this particular moment, graduate school didn’t seem like a viable option for me.

However, I’ve requested deferral from NYU for a year, and will soon get a response. If I were able to defer for one year, then it would probably be ideal. By then, I think that all of my pending issues will have been resolved and I’d be able to be walking the halls of prestigious NYU in 2012.

Oh, and as far as Columbia goes (yea, you might remember that my preferred school was Columbia University), I did get a response, and it wasn't positive. However, it wasn't entirely bad. Although I wasn't accepted into Columbia for 2011, they said that academically I was an ideal candidate. What I was lacking was more professional experience, and this is something that I had been expecting (considering that I was applying to the public policy school.) In the letter they sent me, they actually encouraged me to get more experience, saying that they'd keep my documents on file for 2 years in case I wanted to reapply in the future. I guess this is always another option.

I’ve made it this far, what’s a little more waiting, eh? I’ll keep you posted on what happens, but I’m optimistic. No matter what path I end up taking, I know I’ll be alright.

Love

I’m an extremely analytical person and so I’ve created a sort of checklist to allow myself to know when I’m in love with someone. Why is this necessary you might ask? Well, it’s important for me to be aware of my own emotions. I’m not the kind of girl who pursues shallow relationships just to satisfy my own needs, and so having a method to categorize my emotions becomes necessary in order for me to know how much of myself and my time I’m willing to devote to someone else. Some of these requirements actually come from the definition of the word “love” itself and are pretty straight forward. Either way, here goes:

- Having a profoundly tender, passionate affection for another person
- Possessing a warm and personal attachment to someone else, as well as an affectionate concern for that person’s well-being (usually represented as a willingness to put that person’s needs and desires over my own)
- Having a sexual passion and desire for the individual in question (i.e., being physically attracted to the person)
- Recognizing their flaws and being willing to not only see past them, but to try to help them overcome them.
- Having a physical, intellectual, and spiritual connection.
- Having an insatiable curiosity to know about the other person: their goals, interests, thoughts, lifestyle, etc.

Believe it or not, there have only been 2 individuals who have met all of these standards, and although both cases have been unsuccessful and quite hurtful, they have also left me important lessons about love. Interestingly enough, I was reading Rainer Maria Rilke’s “Letters to a young poet,” and I came across a section that talked about love. It was very surprising to me how Rilke’s views on love are almost exactly the same as my own, and it is for this reason that I have decided to share:

“It is also good to love: because love is difficult. For one human being to love another human being: that is perhaps the most difficult task that has been entrusted to us, the ultimate task, the final test and proof, the work for which all other work is merely preparation. That is why young people, who are beginners in everything, are not yet capable of love: it is something they must learn. With their whole being, with all their forces, gathered around their solitary, anxious, upward-beating heart, they must learn to love. But learning-time is always a long, secluded time, and therefore loving, for a long time ahead and far on into life, is: solitude, a heightened and deepened kind of aloneness for the person who loves. Loving does not at first mean merging, surrendering, and uniting with another person (for what would a union be of two people who are unclarified, unfinished, and still incoherent?), it is a high inducement for the individual to ripen, to become something in himself, to become world, to become world in himself for the sake of another person; it is a great, demanding claim on him, something that chooses him and calls him to vast distances. Only in this sense, as the task of working on themselves ("to hearken and to hammer day and night"), may young people use the love that is given to them. Merging and surrendering and every kind of communion is not for them (who must still, for a long, long time, save and gather themselves); it is the ultimate, is perhaps that for which human lives are as yet barely large enough.

But this is what young people are so often and so disastrously wrong in doing: they (who by their very nature are impatient) fling themselves at each other when love takes hold of them, they scatter themselves, just as they are, in all their messiness, disorder, bewilderment. And what can happen then? What can life do with this heap of half-broken things that they call their communion and that they would like to call their happiness, if that were possible, and their future? And so each of them loses himself for the sake of the other person, and loses the other, and many others who still wanted to come. And loses the vast distances and possibilities, gives up the approaching and fleeing of gentle, prescient Things in exchange for an unfruitful confusion, out of which nothing more can come; nothing but a bit of disgust, disappointment, and poverty, and the escape into one of the many conventions that have been put up in great numbers like public shelters on this most dangerous road. No area of human experience is so extensively provided with conventions as this one is: there are life-preservers of the most varied invention, boats and water wings; society has been able to create refuges of every sort, for since it preferred to take love life as an amusement, it also had to give it an easy form, cheap, safe, and sure, as public amusements are.

It is true that many young people who love falsely, i.e., simply surrendering themselves and giving up their solitude (the average person will of course always go on doing that), feel oppressed by their failure and want to make the situation they have landed in livable and fruitful in their own, personal way. For their nature tells them that the questions of love, even more than everything else that is important, cannot be resolved publicly and according to this or that agreement; that they are questions, intimate questions from one human being to another, which in any case require a new, special, wholly personal answer. But how can they, who have already flung themselves together and can no longer tell whose outlines are whose, who thus no longer possess anything of their own, how can they find a way out of themselves, out of the depths of their already buried solitude?

They act out of mutual helplessness, and then if, with the best of intentions, they try to escape the convention that is approaching them (marriage, for example), they fall into the clutches of some less obvious but just as deadly conventional solution. For then everything around them is convention. Wherever people act out of a prematurely fused, muddy communion, every action is conventional: every relation that such confusion leads to has its own convention, how ever unusual (i.e., in the ordinary sense immoral) it may be; even separating would be a conventional step, an impersonal, accidental decision without strength and without fruit.”