the harmful hurter.

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the harmful hurter.

the other day i became alarmingly aware of something that i have allegedly and unconsciously been doing, which has set my mind in a whirlwind of perpetual motion ever since…

i was having a wonderful morning, engaging in a comical exchange of text messages and genuinely just enjoying the effortlessness of humor that was being presented to me and thus, filling my heart with euphoria…

not even a horrible fact like my being at work was able to dwindle my happiness…

and that was joyous in itself.

however, as the day progressed as it always does, i found myself slowly but surely letting go of the elation and giving into the agitation…

and as usual, it was rather unrequired.

after being engulfed under a pile of last-minute deadlines and finding no reasonable resolution to the myriad of stress i was feeling, i wrongfully began to heap every other seemingly annoying situation together with it…

because i thought, since everything else was just shit at that moment then why shouldn’t i simply keep adding more to it until i become a cluster fuck of crazy?

i mean, it seemed appropriate enough at the time…

so in that instant, i also began an unnecessary argument with someone i care insanely about and it quickly amassed to something uncontrollable…

and unbeknownst to me, i had caught the other party so off-guard that i had not only confused the fuck out of them, but i had also managed to inflict a ton of unintentional hurt.

and the worst part of it all was that i was not even conscious of what i had just done!

i was caught so far up my own ass and my feelings and how everything was affecting me that i was too blind to notice just how much i had muddled up the other persons spirits.

honestly, i literally could not understand why the other party was acting so strangely and why they seemed so upset when i was absolutely positive that i was the one who was dejected…

but what i failed to recognize was that i was once again playing the unwarranted victim and everyone else’s reaction to how badly i was treating them was unjustifiable.

and that realization scares the fuck out of me.

how could someone like me, a girl who is typically so in tune with herself and so expressive with her emotions, fail to identify when somebody else was conveying theirs?

just how fucking self-absorbed and out of touch am i?!

most often our moods are likely to be malleable, depending on whom we are with and the situations we are placed in…

one minute we may be as high as a hot air balloon, and then the next, down in the proverbial dumps.

and unfortunately for someone like me, there appears to be very little middle ground…

but at least i am learning to acknowledge it in order to improve myself…

and i believe the key to being successful in that respect is to align myself with things that foster positivity.

an enlightened individual once told me, “don’t ride the highs too high and the lows too low.

so here is to finding the betwixt and between…

the unresolved resolutions.

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the unresolved resolutions.i have been thinking a lot about resolutions

probably because it is still January and even though we are nearing the end of the month, some people have yet to stop wishing me a “Happy New Year”.

needless to say, it’s been on my mind…

now, i don’t usually make these types of bold declarations because let’s be honest, who actually keeps up with their broken promises anywhere after the second week of any given new year?

however, despite my loads of negativity, i have decided that maybe this time i would resolute to do some things that are not so cliché (i.e. eat better – which i plan to do), daunting (i.e. lose weight – which i plan to do… again) and typical (i.e. enjoy life more – which i plan to do… once i’m rich).

but in order to be successful in my endeavor, i have chosen to simply call this a “To Do List” (with a 365 day deadline)…

therefore, here are some things i would like to accomplish in 2013:

  • receive a massage once every two months
  • also maybe, throw in a few facials
  • quit being fake nice to people i genuinely dislike, and simply start ignoring them
  • learn how to ride a bicycle
  • develop an actual savings account
  • drink more tea
  • perhaps try to halt my cyber stalking
  • trust in the process of life
  • possibly post my first picture on Instagram for the 260+ followers that i don’t understand why i have
  • get engaged
  • or at least, maybe begin planning a potential wedding for when i do
  • prevent myself from telling everyone that i will stab them in the face if they don’t do what i say
  • take a tropical vacation
  • tone down the fucking cussing
  • stop thinking i know anything about making my own juice cleanses
  • invest in candles
  • put myself on a 15 minute time out every day just to relax and regroup
  • when in doubt, smile
  • find a job where management respects their employees
  • or better yet, become my own boss

but most importantly, i need to learn to realize that although misery loves company, so does happiness…

so i want to just be happy.

with that being said, i am ready to grab 2013 by its lopsided little balls and show it that i mean fucking business!

24 days down, 341 more to go…

the completion of the beginning.

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the completion of the beginning.in January of this year, i finally decided to start a blog…

it came after years and years of coaxing amidst threats from my devoted friends and dedicated fans, who were constantly being subjected to my ramblings, musings and epiphanies on Facebook and MySpace.

so i arranged to stop putting off what i had always been too lazy to do…

and after a month of working on the little details that drive my OCD into a raging frenzy, i chose to debut my site when the date (1/2/12) and the time (12:12) somehow mirrored one another.

but before i published my first piece, i made a tiny resolution:

i told myself that i would post at least twice a month and allow for a one month hiatus when i was either too busy to think or when writer’s block had wreaked havoc on my fragile little brain.

surprisingly, almost one year later, i have managed to keep up with that promise that i secretly made to myself…

and that right there has set the premise for the new year that we are about to embark on in these subsequent five days.

therefore, i am going to keep this last post of 2012 as short (5’3”) and as sweet (shekardaneh means “a grain of sugar”) as myself…

thank you to my 1100+ followers for supporting me and permitting my extraneous remarks to find life in your everyday hodgepodge.

although i would still force myself to write on here even without all of you present, it is so much more heartwarming to know that i actually have an audience instead of just talking to myself.

so i appreciate your sanction…

and your time…

and just you.

i wish you a glittering new year’s eve…

and look forward to further corrupting you in 2013.

bonne année et bonne santé!

the end of the world as we know it.

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the end of the world as we know it.so the word on Gullible Street is that the world is supposed to end tomorrow…

which is totally fine with me, because at this point, i could really use the rest.

and although i do not typically believe in that sort of balderdash and nonsense, on the off-chance that we all do internally combust on 12/21/12 and receive our designated seats in whatever is waiting for us in our afterlife, i have decided to take this once in a Mayan lifetime opportunity to say everything i have longed to say about just about everybody that i have ever met…

or have not yet met…

or just know in passing…

or possibly not at all.

rest assured that these statements are indeed directed towards certain people, and if it just so happens that it sounds like it is about you, it probably is.

Shekardaneh’s Unsought Surmise:

–          i have become indifferent towards you, but i still believe that your existence is unnecessary.

–          i am glad that you grew up and stopped being a bitch.

–          you are a complete dirt-bag for what you did at your bachelor party.

–          your breath always fucking smelled like you ate nothing other than shit sandwiches your entire life.

–          your lack of affection is disheartening.

–          i am glad that you are even more insane than i am.

–          the amount of risks you take are unhealthy, and your boyfriend is using you.

–          i think you are obnoxious and way too much to handle and honestly, i still do not see why so many people find you charming.

–          you should probably just tell him that you are no longer in love with him.

–          i worry that you might actually be depressed.

–          i regret that night.

–          you think waaaay too highly of yourself and you’re cheap.

–          you hold the key to my future, and you might be the death of me.

–          i love your style and i want your closet.

–          i still live in fear of running into you again.

–          you need to get your teeth fixed, like immediately.

–          i am not convinced that you stopped cheating after you got married.

–          you are beyond spoiled and i sometimes resent you.

–          you set the foundation for every future relationship, and i am forever grateful for the weight you lifted off of my heart.

–          sometimes i don’t want to hang out with you because i feel like you have dental plaque.

–          use some fucking concealer on the dark circles under your eyes.

–          you are the epitome of a deadbeat dad.

–          i would not mind one bit if you actually did die tomorrow.

–          your intentions are unclear and i do not for one second trust you, dumb whore.

–          you are a million years old and still the biggest pushover in the world.

–          i secretly hold a grudge against you for not believing me.

–          i sincerely think you could be a rapist, and for the record, it was small.

–          but i really have no idea who you are.

–          you are way too old to just be figuring out what love is, and you should consider getting tested for mental illness.

–          i would have.

–          i do not understand how you are involved in that group of friends seeing as how you’re not a cunt.

–          you keep me sane and endure my crazy better than anybody i know.

–          thank you for always picking up the tab after our emotional alcohol-induced therapy sessions.

–          you did not deserve the family you were dealt.

–          you have become too spiritual, so how about you tone down the hippie.

–          i don’t understand what happened, but i guess you are a pussy-whipped little bitch.

–          you dress like a cowboy, FOB.

–          maybe you should eat more.

–          your jokes are not always humorous, and i cannot keep up this fake laughter.

–          you seem really stuck-up and it is not even warranted.

–          obviously, you will never do better, ever.

–          i kind of feel sorry for you.

–          you look like the skeleton from those anti-drug commercials in the 80’s.

–          your head looks weird now that you are skinny.

–          i don’t understand how you’re engaged when you are batshit crazy and possibly, chronically depressed.

–          you seem sweet, but i dread seeing you.

–          your speaking voice is absolutely horrendous, and i wish you would get laryngitis.

–          i would literally die without you.

–          you are a fucking fool and we talk shit about you behind your back.

–          your nose job did nothing to improve your face.

–          i cannot fucking stand your dad.

–          please shave the hair under your eyes and in your ears.

–          you have gained a ton of weight.

–          i genuinely thought you were going to kill me that night.

–          i stopped liking you after i realized you voted for Romney.

–          i don’t know why i have your phone number and i don’t know why you called me.

–          everybody knew you were a slut.

–          you’re not a model.

–          you weigh approximately 90 pounds and nobody likes you because you are a piece of garbage, and also maybe because you have the poundage of a child.

–          you became a lesbian for attention.

–          your strength is commendable.

–          you are kind of annoying and needy, but i love that you are always available to hang out.

–          i am pretty sure you are in love with me, but no thanks.

–          you are one of my favorite people and i will never have a bad thing to say about you.

–          i can’t eat around you because you disgust me.

–          your choices in women are alarming.

–          i can’t even conceive how so many people dated you when you kissed like a dying lizard.

–          stop being secretive about stupid fucking shit.

–          you are a gem.

–          oh my god, not everything is about you.

–          you are a man, gurrrrl.

–          i want to spend the rest of my life with you, because you are and forever will be the most amazing thing to have ever happened to me.

PHEW!

see you at the crossroads!

the childish chatter.

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i can usually adapt well in any given element.

it is a quality that i find to be acutely essential, if not exorbitantly valuable…

especially as we begin to mature and are placed in more situations that necessitate those sorts of personality readjustments.

accordingly, as i continue my journey towards adulthood, i find myself being surrounded by more and more children…

you know, since getting pregnant is like a “thing” when you are older?

regardless, i honestly do not know how to talk to adolescents past the goo goo gah gah infancy stage…

and oh my god, do not even think about talking to me during puberty!

i am just a cluster fuck of wrongfulness.

so as luck would have it, i was given an opportunity to test out my incredible “diarrhea of the mouth” with my friends’ 11 year old daughter…

and what commenced was quite a series of entertaining (see also: stressful) conversations, in which i felt as though i was jumping rope with my own tongue.

i showed up to work on a Saturday morning after having spent the previous evening debauched during Oktoberfest…

my only savior was a huge jug of water and plenty of greasy calories provided by the McDonald’s breakfast menu.

i had just finished inhaling my meal when my coworker showed up with her descendant…

and i had the nerve to try to engage in an adult conversation in the presence of a youngster.

typically, i can hold my own and be somewhat methodical…

but when i am teetering between two to three hours of sleep, have this incredibly delightful hangover, and have to censor my confabulation, then everything is just shit.

so i began describing my night to my workmate, remembering to replace the term ‘beer’ with “water” and mouthing particular events that i deemed inappropriate when her daughter would turn around…

but to my surprise, her mother told me that her child was aware of what alcohol is and for some reason i took that to mean that i can cuss freely, hold a semi-serious conversation with this little girl about the then upcoming Presidential Election, and ask her if she is in love with any of the boys at her school.

it was only after i called her non-teenage offspring a “Republican” in a haste of fury that i realized that maybe i do not actually know how to converse with most youth, and that i was in fact the only juvenile present.

with that being said, “Hide Yo’ Kids”, because i obviously have no fucking filter…

the jive turkey.

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last year, only mere moments after indulging in gratuitous amounts of turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, dinner rolls and a thick slice of pumpkin pie cloaked under a mountain of whipped cream, i laid in my bed and rightly began to contemplate all of the things that i was thankful for in 2011…

i pulled out my iPhone, opened a new “note” on my personal Facebook page and proceeded to jot down this seemingly generic list of appreciation right before the tryptophan kicked in and sent me to a waistband-expanded, dream-like state.

coincidentally, it was also the last “note” i ever posted onto my Facebook, seeing as how shekardaneh.com was developed just two months later…

needless to say, i decided that in keeping up with this tradition that i created for myself, i would maybe change it up a bit this year and express my gratitude for some of the less obvious people, places and things that are present in my life…

and don’t worry; if you made it onto my manifesto last year, i haven’t quit you cold turkey just yet.

so without further ado, here are my 2012 thankfulities!

i am thankful for

  • making up my own words (see, thankfulities)
  • foggy windows
  • personalized anything
  • chewing gum
  • the venti option at Starbucks
  • iBooks
  • sneezing and “bless you’s”
  • the lingering of delicious cologne/perfume as someone walks past you
  • floss
  • Hello Kitty Chia Pet
  • hips that don’t lie
  • junk emails
  • Susan fucking Miller
  • wet wipes
  • treble and bass clefs
  • *69
  • being referred to as “trouble
  • Target
  • Hulu Plus and Netflix
  • my nail lady
  • napkins (cuz i just spilled coffee all over myself)
  • cheesy french fries
  • warm breath
  • creative freedom
  • eating Honey Bunches of Oats at any time of the day
  • wish lists
  • receiving invitations the old fashioned way
  • Obama
  • full voicemails
  • laser hair removal
  • hot yoga
  • Dr. Steve Brule
  • people who actually read my ramblings
  • pulling out wedgies
  • unicorns
  • smooth skin
  • saving room for dessert
  • the month of April
  • matching bras and panties
  • sidewalk chalk and bubbles
  • iMessage (when it actually works)
  • being lactose tolerant
  • autocorrect never being even close
  • knowing exactly when to expect my period
  • Shazam-ing a song during a movie
  • staycations
  • courtesy flushes
  • dandelions
  • weird news
  • myself

but mostly, i am thankful for my unique name…

because if it were any typical moniker, i would have one hell of a time securing a domain!

happy thanksgiving, my little pecan pies…

hopefully your turkey isn’t as dry as your personality!

the antagonizing associate.

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quite recently, i have noticed that there has been a massive increase in publicizing the topic of “bullying”, due to the wonderful efforts exuded by persons of celebrity…

an issue that has plagued our tender footed adolescents for generations.

having been a victim of it, and also having been the committer in some unfortunate circumstances, i realize the importance of bringing this issue to the forefront of major media matters…

and because these situations have become so popular and so grave, they can no longer be simplified as “kids being kids”, seeing as how they do not only reside on playgrounds, but have managed to find their way into our computers, our homes, and more significantly, our work places.

for a considerable amount of this past year, i was holding daily conversations with someone immensely close to me, who was caught in a whirlwind of tormenting from a fellow colleague…

and it became so much of a problem that this person was not only in absolute tears to and from work, but was also terrified of unknowingly doing something wrong for fear of the backlash it would cause.

and that made me fucking volatile!

the average person spends anywhere between eight to nine hours a day, and upwards of 40 or so hours per week at their designated workplace…

and if said workplace includes other inhabitants/coworkers, then typically there are bound to be moments when certain people for whatever reason, may not get along…

and that is completely normal.

but when someone is purposely and ruthlessly going after another individual for no particular reason, and conspiring to make that person’s life a living hell, then it has surpassed the regular realm of simply choosing to not deal with one another, and feverishly made its way to harassment…

and that shit is just not okay.

if your life is so goddamn miserable that the only way you can cope is by setting out to ruin someone else’s, then you have another thing coming…

and that “thing” can be veer anywhere between karma to lawsuits.

as we were taught by our loving parent’s way before ever stepping foot onto our first schoolyard, “if you don’t have anything nice to say about someone, don’t say anything at all”…

so kindly shut the fuck up, you stupid bitch.

the devoted dream.

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i dream…

a lot.

and this doesn’t include the ample amount of time i spend daydreaming either…

these are solid dreams that are carefully assembled and structured together by my dramatically animated subconscious…

that of which works at an intensely vigorous rate.

for the past two years, give or take a few restless nights, i have been subjected to the mental assault of my vivid slumber…

and i cannot help but to wonder if my unconscious mind is subliminally trying to tell me something.

i’m not typically a dream decoding type of person…

i always chalk it up to whether or not i have been thinking about a particular person or circumstance and assume that it just so happened to carry over into my trance-like state.

but that usual thought formulation has currently been debunked since i know that i haven’t…

so then, what gives?

without sounding too ambiguous, this specific “situation” that i am repeatedly dreaming about ad nauseam, has never been one of joy for me…

and although these dreams do not cause me any happiness, they also don’t necessitate being referred to as a nightmare.

but when i awaken each morning and can still fully remember the previous night’s mind fuck, then i can’t help but to find myself being forced to relive each tormenting moment and thus, dissecting every flashback until i am completely engulfed in unanswered questions!

what in the fuck, drowsy brain?!

if there is something that lethargic me is trying to tell lively me, then i seriously need to quit being so cryptic with myself…

until then, kindly get out of my dreams…

and under my car.

the old age adage.

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recently, i have been dwelling a lot over “age”.

you know, our period of animate existence

this isn’t because i myself am slowly but surely creeping up towards the end of my terrific/terrifying twenties and loosely high-fiving my dirty thirties

but it is mostly on the grounds that i have been noticing less and less people actually accepting their maturity, and incontestably hiding from it.

at my current 28 years of subsistence, i have managed to still look almost identical to how i was when i resided in my teenage years (knock on wood)…

well, minus a few pounds (abundance) here and there.

actually, come to think of it, if you were to look at pictures of me in my infancy, i creepily have only grown taller (slightly)…

so i guess in a way this has been the reason why i allow myself to wear certain outfits that would perhaps place me in the “mid-20’s” category…

but nothing age inappropriate, of course.

so how is it that gobs of women, generously older than me, have granted themselves permission to dress like adolescent hoe-bags?

i noticed this heinous epidemic first-hand once again, just last week…

i was at a bar with a couple of besties/coworkers and while we were enjoying our third-ish drink, a woman walked in whom (from the back) could have easily passed for someone in their 30’s.

super tight skinny jeans (no ass), skimpy (mid-riff baring) wife beater and platform sandals (crusty toes)…

and then she made the awful mistake of turning around and exposing us to her face…

her wrinkled, saggy neck containing, face.

this, mind you, was not even the worst of it…

this woman, who was clearly well into her 60’s, had the audacity to sport FEATHERS IN HER HAIR!

now i have never really caught on to this dead-bird-in-your-hair trend, but it might mayyyybe be cute if you’re a youngster who is simply trying to follow in the foot-steps of their favorite teeny-bopper…

but when you’re fucking anywhere near, or in this case, past your mid-life, then you have a lot of nerve to even think that that’s okay!

this is concerning.

i was alarmingly worried for her…

like, what happens when she goes home (alone), removes that embarrassing façade, and has to come to terms with the fact that she’s actually 40+ years older than she was attempting to present herself as?

and to make matters even more awful, as she was shamelessly flirting with a semi-younger fellow, her entourage of geriatrics showed up…

unlike her, her Betty White-esque cohorts actually dressed their age, which only added to my mortification for her.

i get it…

getting older is not something that normal people have an easy time welcoming.

which is fine.

but trying to conceal the inevitable by dressing ridiculously should not be a solution either…

get your shit together, ladies!

the codependent couple.

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i spend an extraordinary amount of time scavenging through the multitude of social networking sites that i have quite voluntarily signed myself up to…

and luckily, i can breezily access each and every one of them simultaneously, courtesy of my handy iPhone.

i say “handy” because it is literally attached to my hand at any known moment in any given situation.

and this could not be more of a nuisance to whoever has chosen to spend some quality time with me…

and my cell-phone.

but, as i am apt to do so often, i digress.

back to the topic at hand…

social networking sites!

during my thorough research (see: stalking), i have come to a rather disturbing realization…

one that makes zero to zilch sense to me:

couples who share Facebook profiles with one another!

let’s take a moment to truly analyze this unbecoming trend…

you’re in a relationship.

you decide to make it public.

but in lieu of doing something slightly normal such as updating your relationship status to hmmmm, i don’t know, “IN A RELATIONSHIP”, or maybe even just changing your default picture to something adorable/nauseating, you choose to become a full-fledged psycho and SHARE A PROFILE INSTEAD?!

i strongly oppose hiding things from your significant other, because if you have something to conceal, you probably shouldn’t be in a relationship to begin with…

but i give credence to the verity that some privacy is essential in any aspect of your life.

and if you genuinely do not respect your entitled level of privateness, then what about maintaining your sense of individuality?

the distinct characteristics that set you apart from the person you so willingly have become attached at the groin to…

the one that you have collectively sat down with and chosen a password that will undoubtedly be almost as moronic as sharing a page in the first place…

your siamese fucking twin with whom you might as well start sharing a toothbrush and underwear with, because well, why the hell not at this point, right?

it’s not only weird, but it’s pretty pathetic…

with that being said, it may be high time to consider therapy for your abhorrent separation anxiety, crazies.

GOOD LUCK!