Random Channel Surfing

I have three twitter accounts. One is private; good friends (offline and online) follow it and it's sort of my "home base" in terms of being the twitter account I use most. Another is public; good (online) friends follow me and it's the one I use for fangirling and acting like a huge  loveable  dork. My third account is private, private, private; only a handful of online friends follow me. I always feel so foolish that I have more than one account. I have friends who have two or more accounts, but those are reserved for networking purposes only. Mine? I have them because I'm too self-conscious about sharing parts of myself with good friends, so I have different outlets so those people won't see those parts. Dishonest? I could see that. But I like to look at it more as me being "selectively secretive." I don't think it's necessary for my friends to know what I thought of The Hunger Games: Catching Fire the seventh time I se

Distractions help. When I'm angry or I'm lonely or longing for someone's touch, it helps to know how to distract myself. It helps to know which movies will quell the longing; which songs will fill that empty space in my heart; which poems will calm the ire.  Distractions help. Especially when the restlessness comes back.

I wish I could be more honest about my feelings for certain people, but if they knew the extent of what I feel for them, I know it would overwhelm them.

This year was my "sort all of my unresolved shit" year. It's been going all right, I guess. I pushed myself out of my comfort zone more than once (*pats back*), I confronted some personal demons, and now I've committed to getting something I wrote published. That's right. I'm finally biting the mother-fucking bullet and pushing myself. I'm terrified, but oddly calm. The same way I would feel when I'd prepped for an exam and was about to go into the test: like I'd done everything in my power to guarantee that terrific grade, but still felt paranoid I would somehow muck it up. Y'know? Anyway, I'm submitting said piece by the end of the week. *flails*

I've made a list of cities I want to see next year. Montreal, Toronto, New York, Flores, Guatemala... I think it's doable, too. If I go see Mel in Ontario for my birthday in March, and I go to Montreal with the girls and guys in August, I could potentially go to New York after our stint in Montreal. Cut to October/November 2014, when a trip to see the old familia is doable. Yes. Yes. I quite like this plan o'mine.

I get to see four of my favourite people tomorrow. Heeeeeeee! I can't wait! Update: I got to see them and here are the pics! Sweetest angel-niece in the world. Best sammiches in the world. Subway ain't got nothin' on Panera -- er, Saint Louis Bread Co. Sister sister... never knew how much I miss ya! If I'm ever lucky enough to have my own kids, I really hope they're as cool as these two kids. Sweet <33333 p=""> My sister is the biggest ham in the world haha! American Family! I was sick for the ONE day I was there, but seeing them was worth the sleep deprivation and voice loss. 

Being home sick means that I'm going through old journal entries and I've come to realize that Young!Marcela was even more socially awkward than I am now. (And that's saying something.) For one, I legit said "CTRL, ALT, DEL" to a guy after I did something thoroughly embarrassing in front of him. (I think I confessed to wanting to smooch his face off. In those words. To his adorable face.) At another time, this same guy and I were chatting about our social studies teacher in our English class. The windows were open and the wind kept blowing my hair around, but it was too hot in the room, so no one wanted to shut them. Anyway, I was telling him about how much I liked our social studies teacher when some dandelion fluff from outside blew straight into my nose. When I was standing right in front of him. It literally flew inside my left nostril, nestled itself in there, and I hid. Legit hid. From him. When we were having a conversation. As if he couldn't see me

That aching, panicky feeling you get when you realize that it's game over. That no matter what you do, no matter how many times you text or call or tweet at them, or how many different dresses or perfumes or lipsticks you wear around them, nothing is going to work because you are not in the same stratosphere. He's here , you're -- well -- there . And it hurts. And it empties that hole you once thought was whole. But know this: you will survive. You will move on. You will meet and you will flirt and you will fall into another one-sided relationship with some rando because that's what you do. You've only really loved two people, anyway. The only reason this hurts so much it makes it hard to think , is that there was potential. And everyone knows that unmet potential makes us second-guess and question. It makes our skin crawl with possibility and sends a jolt of electricity through our bodies with expectancy. But that feeling? It will go away. Just accept it and, w

I'm always amazed when people want to spend time with me. I'm usually such a clingy friend (initiating get-togethers, texting first, emailing whenever I see anything that reminds me of the person), that when someone comes along who actively pursues a friendship with me, I'm taken aback. I don't want to scare them away with my effervescence, so I rarely text or email; I rarely make a move. And I think that's wrong. Because there have been times when my inaction has led to me pushing away people I genuinely care about and want to be friends with. So I'm of two extremes, really: overwhelm people with my need to be with them, or fool them into thinking I don't care for them as much as I do. I really need to work on tempering my reactions to things in general. These extremes o'mine are not conducive to me having healthy relationships.

Like, there's this movement that's been building since last summer where the more awkward and self-effacing you are, the more accepted you are by the majority. But I don't understand why people have to be self-effacing and prove how awkward they are to be accepted; I don't understand why we're encouraging one another to stay in our shells and avoid confronting our demons; I don't understand why we're settling for not going outside of our comfort zones. Insecure girls are not the smart ones. Being afraid and over-cautious does not make me smart. It does not make me a unicorn. What it does is prevent me from fulfilling my full potential and embracing all that I am. It prevents me from leading a fulfilling life. Insecure girls are not the ones who get the job or the boy or the friends. They're the ones who miss out. They're the ones who would rather slink into the shadows and hide , than prove to themselves that they're worthy. And I know that

Ways in which I routinely misspell my name: Marclea Marceal Marecla Marela Marcia Smart Marcela is supah smaht.

I keep getting spammed :( Guess I'm going to have to change my url. So long, randomchannelsurfing. You've been a great friend!

The act of existing is both confusing and amazing. Personally, I sometimes find it hard to believe that I exist. I have thoughts and I have feelings and I interact with other individuals. It's all very weird to me. And if you were to remove me, or anyone else for that matter, there would be a great shift in other peoples' lives. We're all connected and that's... bizarre to me. I've been thinking about Jamal today. I know that he and I drifted apart, but, even now, whenever I meet with anyone from the theatre, our conversations gravitate to him. This was a man who not only existed, but was an integral part of our lives for so many years. Most of us had a relationship with him outside of the theatre. Most of us saw him every day. For years. And now he's gone. Gosh, I miss him.

This new trend of (pseudo-)intellectual racists is fucking terrifying.

I'm very grateful that we never stop connecting with people. I admit that there are a handful of individuals I wish I was closer to, but I'm not going to focus on that because I can't really do anything to rectify it. What I can do, however, is bask in the happiness I feel over the friendships I made this year. And I'm amazed at just how many new friends I made. From getting friendlier with someone I was never friends with in high school (but reconnected with thanks to Melissa), to befriending my friends' friends and getting to know them on a more personal level, this has been a great year to connect with new people. And I'm feeling very thankful for each and every one of these new friends. Especially Mallory. Mallory is the kind of friend who makes you feel wonderful  about yourself. She's always full of interesting ideas, she's always very encouraging, she's always there to share with you her triumphs and her sorrows. Befriending her was very eas

Over-share or no share. Gush or rant. Adore or abhor. Where is my medium? Do I even have one? Things aren't that simple for me; I have never been cavalier  in my approach to people, events, or things. It's not the way that I operate. And that's a little scary because I put my absolute all into loving, into feeling . And every time I feel in those extremes, is another time I gamble with my heart.

It's both humbling and terrifying how much I love my nieces and nephew.