Photo Heartbreak: Caught Being Alone...Forever

Me, being alone...forever. Wrapped in blankets, wine-in-hand, Britney Spears on the TV. Hey, but at least someone was there to take the picture (my best alone...forever friend). What I've failed to post is the following picture, where I'm passed out at midnight on a Friday. Solid.

YouTube Remedy: "Drive, Kick Your Teeth"

What to do and say the next time you're eating alone. The "say" portion will guarantee alone...forever-ness.

Learning To Grin and Bear It, A Lesson From R. Gosling

Pictured above is Ryan Gosling as the no-named character in the 2011 film, Drive (aka my favorite movie to this day, besides Forrest Gump...and I'm only admitting that because I'm alone...forever). In my world, there should always be at least one post about Ryan Gosling on a blog. But I'm also alone...forever and I swoon over everything he's ever done (most have been him imitating/being? a killer...so...there's that). But I watched this film for the third time (yes) the other day with a close alone...forever friend (I've mentioned her about three times in this blog...I'm starting to seem less alone than I really am and really into parentheses). While absorbing the movie for the third time and catching all the wonderful moments I took for granted during the first and second, I started to realize that Ry Ry is the epitome of alone...forever. Except, unlike me, and many of my friends, he plays off being alone...forever much cooler.

What makes Ryan Gosling so alone...forever in this film? Well, it's definitely that his name is never mentioned and no one ever seems to bother asking him. Alone...forever. And well, he's a lonely loner who lives in a single bedroom apartment and drives around town (mostly) alone. Yes, he does befriend Carrie Mulligan and her son, but even after finding companionship, he abandons her to (what I guess...) live alone...forever.

But even as he's alone...forever, he keeps his cool. He talks only when necessary, remains completely un-emotional, and drives around town eating pie by himself at local diners (see above post).

So from now on, I'm going to pull a page from the Ryan-Gosling-In-Drive handbook and cool out on my constant need for alone...forever attention. I'm thinking I'll need to cool out on the Tweeting (only Tweeting when necessary). I'll need to detach my emotions from things I find unintentionally emotional (why didn't so-so text me back? did I really eat White Castle?). Maybe I'll even work up the courage to go grab a piece of pie by myself.

But finally, in the cool-style of Ryan Gosling, I will finally learn to accept my alone...forever-state-of-mind. I will confidently and successively learn to "grin and bear it." (while still posting both drunkenly/soberly and using parentheses whenever they are unnecessary).

Food Remedy: Black Raspberry Chip Ice Cream

Truly not ashamed to say that I've eaten a pint of black raspberry chip ice cream while crying over a loss/breakup/movie. So comforting. So fulfilling. No guilt. Wish I could date it. Grab a pint now if you're like me and alone on this Monday night.

Music Remedy: "No Way" by The Naked and Famous

This one is kind've a heartbreaker, but sad songs are in their own way, an uncoordinated remedy. I've sat in my room a-plenty of times listening to The Naked and Famous' "No Way." The video is stunning, but if you have a chance to find the song, pop it into a long-drive home and just let the tears flow. With the lyrics "I'm not sorry/All this means/loosing/letting-go," hidden at the end of the track, how can you not see this track as a musical remedy?

Items I Hate Sleeping Next To, Part 1: My Phone

I hate sleeping next to my phone.

Let the First World Problems tears rain.

I understand how fortunate I am to have the luxury of being able to use a phone, but sometimes my Blackberry causes more emotional drama than any ex-boyfriend I have ever been with. My Blackberry doesn't let me sleep. Most of the time it's my fault. I stay awake constantly checking for my Blackberry's tiny red LED light to go off. Two tiny red flashes of light and my night is made. And when it doesn't, I loose sleep. Sad. But when you're alone...forever, that 2AM text can sometimes be one of the most comforting forms of communication. If you haven't reached my aptitude of madness, then, I salute you and your freedom. Congrats.

It's the not-texting, not-calling, not-writing-me-long-messages-on-Facebook (which fortunately/unfortunately? get sent to my phone). It's the I'll-just-put-my-phone-on-silent-so-I'm-not-constantly-waiting-for-it-to-make-a-noise. It's the waiting around for that one person. That one person who you respond to immediately without any hesitation. That one person who's responses you re-read over and over again just to make sure you haven't missed something important. That one person is the one person that seems to keep me up at night. That one person is the person who has helped create all the animosity I have towards my phone. That one person is the reason why I sleep next to my Blackberry, waiting for a goodnight text...a last minute "I love you."

But if you're alone...forever like me, then sleeping next to your phone is not just a hated practice, but an alone...forever practice. If I'm lucky enough to dose off, it's usually accompanied by an alone...forever sigh. Sometimes in the middle of the night, my phone will buzz, causing me to reach over to my Blackberry in hopes of a new-found romance blooming through text message (s?...a girl can dream). To my dismay, it is almost always a spam-email or a tweet from my good alone...forever friend.

The answer to my problem seems simple...I just need to sleep away from the goddamn Blackberry. But what I can't seem to do is let go of that slight hope that sleeping next to my Blackberry gives me. The disappointment of not receiving a text from that one person is the worst, but the high, the I-miss-you-goodnight-text seems to always rework the heart's memory...

Music Remedy: "Stronger" by Kelly Clarkson

Don't judge me, at least this isn't Christina Aguilera's "Beautiful". How can you not like the line: "doesn't mean I'm lonely, when I'm alone." Stop. I'm going through something.

Heartbreak: Faulty Missed Connections

Last year, when my then-boyfriend dumped me, I turned to Craigslist's "Missed Connections" for hope and romance. (I'm not even going to begin to tell you how funny that sentence was to write and then later read aloud...I just hope the experience is the same for you). I enjoy reading MC for the specificity of both the location and the person (and if you haven't, go onto MC right now and you'll know what I mean), as well as for the actual chance of being the lucky gal to have been missed-connected.

This past Wednesday, a alone...forever friend and  I discussed how our current goal would be to make missed connections happen everywhere we go. It was a truly great idea, until our drunken-mouths told everyone and a little brat came up with a brilliant plan to bring to light on the Internet more of my alone...forever-ness.

The above picture is of a screenshot of a MC post, that my alone...forever friend and I both read and assumed to be me. After working up the courage, I finally responded to my suitor. Elated to find out the post was about me, I Googled the poster's e-mail address only to find out that the poster was a friend's younger brother, who had seen my MC Tweets and decided to have a little fun with my emotions. I now hate him. But I will survive.

Now, I'm not gonna say I'm sad. It was a funny joke and I now have another alone...forever story to tell to my friends. What does make me upset, is knowing that out there, there are a million missed connections happening each day. Possible alone...forever people running into another alone...forever person and never getting the chance to be together. I've been lucky to have two, really great missed connections in my lifetime. Each time I've written extremely detailed and descriptive posts onto Craigslist only to have received extremely weird responses. But last night, a failed response, wrote me this reply to my post "BEAUT at MagBar":

"...bet you had a lot of rando emails about this. It would have been pretty awesome if it were me. People always talk about getting a missed connection, just to say they got one you know?...Good luck finding your beaut!"

It definitely would have been nice. But for now, I'll stay on the look out for my beaut and possible other missed connections. My advice to anyone reading, beware of faux-missed-connections-suitors (aka this guy) and don't romanticize missed connections, just make them connections and make your life easier.

YouTube Remedy: "How to Be Alone" by poet Tanya Davis

Love, a Decade Under the Influence

About a month ago, I thought I would make a zine about loving and past loves. I thought the reflection would be helpful, but during the few days I tried to write creatively about my experiences, I fell short of anything substantial or worth sharing. I did however, write a small introduction. This blog may seem like a joke, but what I know to be true is that the realities of no longer loving and no longer sharing love is something many of us experience everyday. The zine was supposed to help me remember past relationships; what made them great and what made them horrible and unhealthy. I'm alone now because of their ending but I have no resentment for the state in which those relationships have left me in.

This introduction may just read as a repeat of my first post, but the words come from a different purpose...

January 23, 2012


"i'd like to believe that this was a long time comin'. i'd like to say that i've been writing this for the past year and that everything reflected within these twenty-some-odd pages is a culmination of all my thoughts from the past year or so. but that's absolutely not true. this idea came to me on a drive home from chicago and for a good week, i sat on it…thinking it wasn't important and that something else would come to mind to distract me. nothing ever did and now it's 2AM and i find myself writing this nonsense (but also coming to terms with how important nonsense can be sometimes).

i stopped writing over a year ago because i didn't think i was good, i could barely write letters to the boy i loved without grammar mistakes and run-on sentences. writing makes me nervous. what i'm doing right here makes me nervous, but i'm starting to realize that i don't care and i think that freeing myself from any fear of judgement is the first step in becoming better.

and by better, i mean, getting over some serious fucking heartbreak/ache/sore…something…something i haven't been able to clearly put into words for quite awhile.

this may be nonsense…but it's a culmination of ten years of nonsense that given time to seep, may make a little sense, may grow, and may help ease future and hopefully present pains."

Music Remedy: "I'm Not Alone" by Calvin Harris

...songs that come into our minds at 5AM.

5 AM Heartbreak on February 23, 2012

The worst, if anything, about being alone...forever...is the being alone. Tonight I went out with a close alone...forever friend only to have her stolen away by a guy named "Joel" in the middle of the night. After being stolen away she danced with him for the remainder of the night and during down-times talked to him about their love for pescatarianism and kale.

A friend leaving you for a dude isn't always depressing. It is nice sometimes to be able to dance by yourself, to talk to strangers...alone (forever...). What really sucks is at the end of the night when you've realized you've made no connection with anyone and you're indeed...alone...forever.

It's 5AM and I've had 2 whiskey sours, 2 beers, and 3 glasses of wine. A lot of what is on my mind is flowing from a drunken, lonely mind that wants to fall asleep  but also wants her phone to vibrate one more time.

Mazol Tov.

Music Remedy: "Me, Myself and I" by Beyonce

I am and will be...Alone...Forever

I had to make this. I needed to make a blog that epitomized everything that I am going through. I'm dramatic, easily heartbroken, 21 and never sorry for any of the ways in which I choose to categorize myself.

I had to make this because a little over a week ago I saw The Vow alone. The worst part being that I arrived 20 minutes early and the employees had to tell me to wait outside until they were finished cleaning the theater. Of course I cried and of course I mumbled the phrase, "Alone…Forever" underneath my breath during the entire length of the movie. "Alone…Forever," a small grouping of words that I now seem to say all the time. My friend constantly corrects me, "Um, it's Forever. Alone." But I like the small pause I give in between the 'alone' and the 'forever.' The pause represents the awareness and rejection I have of the idea that I indeed, might always, be alone…forever.

If you don't believe me, maybe you should learn that there is indeed a "Alone…Forever" curse upon my family. About two summers ago I travelled to the Philippines with my Lola to visit family and become culturally-connected to my distant heritage. At the time I was with my "one-true-love" and spending most of my time glued to a computer-screen that was located in an internet cafe a mile from our house. I remember during a car ride my Lola told me to "make sure that boy marries you, otherwise you'll end up like all the other Divino women….alone….forever". According to my Lola, there have been a numerous amount of Divino women who have never married or ended up in long-term relationships and instead, have been alone…forever (or at least until they passed away). These women, classified by my family as "hags" or "lesbians" are known to have been victims of the "Alone…Forever" curse, a curse my sister and I believe, still plagues our family today.

(and in case you were wondering, I broke up with the boy mentioned in the above paragraph through e-mail after he went crazy and called me a French-whore…maybe some of my "Alone…Forever"-ness is brought on by myself but in many cases it cannot be confirmed or denied)

From now on, this blog-space will be used to document my life as a Divino-woman cursed by "Alone…Forever." As one close friend reminded me one day, my "life is a joke." I hope that maybe someday, someone will stumble upon this blog and bear witness to the heartbreaks and remedies of being alone…forever.