When Life Hands You Lemons...

You make novela lemonade:

I've just come up the stairs to my apartment with dinner, large workload and an appetite for all things carbohydrate - this is, of course, not before walking around downtown with a grocery bag filled with 20 (yes, 20) lemons.

It's not my sour attitude. Just a quirky little thing from today that would slide nicely into the pages of a book...

Every time something horrible happens - a disagreement, me crying, me talking about why i'm crying, i got lost on the way to point B, I have no money til Friday, Etc. - i have one person that always tells me, " Jesus, Sami - Zach Braff isn't around with videocameras and his screenplay for his latest movies! (which btw, wasn't that superb)."

And every time they say this, I laugh a little, because I'm not a generally dramatic person - though their reaction and concern to all things involving them would suggest otherwise.

When I'm hurt - I hurt big because I have a big heart, I'm sensitive and better to get it all out at point of impact, then let things build into mass destruction. I give room for second, third, fourth chances, and while I think most logically about situations, my genuine need to care and faith for betterment always get in the way.

As I get older, I grow increasingly fond of the mentality that you should keep it to yourself and wait it out, honey - because you'll feel better in the morning."

And I always do - because Since the age of three I've been saying, "It'll be O.K."

I'm finding, lately, I'm having to pull that three year old confidence back out of me to support myself in situations not unlike the person I used to say this to when I was so young, but so wise.

There are a few ironic things "about last night":

1. a certain someone's birthday that connotates all things relating to this event
2. it all started over two measley minutes of music.

Being part writer, every time i see something happen in my life, I pause in my mind to write out the event in the best, most elaborately placed words possible so that someone else may later share in my occurance - all in those quiet moments before I fall asleep.

But last night, I spent a good hour trying to figure out how I could unwrite 120 minutes.

The funny thing about it all is this is who I am. I don't need a Zach Braff, and I don't need someone to constantly barade me about it. What's funniest thing about all of this, is the person always declaring that I act like I'm always in front of movie crew - has never read a damn thing i've written.

And so I say, don't knock it til you try it - because all's fair in love and war - and I still haven't written my book yet...