spauldingsimonson

[spauldingsimonson]

Inspired by Dream Baby Press's loves and hates, I've decided to make my own:

Loves:

Laughing so much I can't breathe

Courage

Eating with my family

Driving around with my best friends

Mocha <3

Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy

A very fun party

My country's humour

A very good hair day that everything works out in my favour

Charming people

Hates:

Corporate greed

Blatant corruption in my country

Dullness masked as mystery

Hopelessness

Tiktok

When no one is dancing at the club

Elon Musk ruining Twitter

The fact that I won't see a lot of my favourite bands live

When a boy I like only sees me for my body

Goodbyes

[spauldingsimonson]

So D finally posted a close up pic of his fucking fiancé and from being incredibly happy for months, now I feel like absolute fucking shit. It seems silly and incredibly shallow to be so hurt about it when we’ve only spent like less than hour together years ago. But you see, Derek changed the trajectory of my romantic life I shit you not.

There has already been a high chance I would have high standards with men, but Derek… he proved it better for me. As soon as I started getting more attention from boys, especially from partying, there’s no doubt a lot of them were good looking. In fairness, it’s always the good looking ones who have the confidence to walk up to a girl as pretty and intimidating (as people have told me) as me.

There he was, with his cool tall and attractive friends who are all foreigners next to our table. At some point, he was, with his guy friends, shaking and everyone’s hands including mine. It seemed just like a playful prank or some sorts but it was nice. Sitting alone at the end of the top of the couch, thinking I was looking less than fantastic and not expecting any boy to come up to me that night, imagine my shock when he was suddenly next to me and talking to me. I couldn’t fucking believe it. I still don’t. I don’t remember everything, but I remember me telling him that the club we’re in is the cool one where celebrities and models and people who look like his blonde girl friends go to. I remember him telling me he prefers how I look like over them. I remember him borrowing my phone to show me the artists he likes after he was impressed I was an art student. I remember telling my real age. I remember him looking freaked out and lying saying he’s 28. I remember all my friends shocked and amazed and impressed about how the two of us look like. I remember making lies to everyone we had a date the next day…

Years pass by and I still stalk him. He’s rich as fuck. I saw his dad has some big charity saving animals in some country. His girlfriend is rich as fuck too with her all her travels and designer. The only thing that brings me comfort I guess is he hasn’t forgotten me. Because if he has, why would he always view my stories? Why would he constantly like my posts, even the unserious shit ones? Why would he like an old post of mine with my face?

Because of D, it’s like I can’t help but think I could always do better or I will always have a chance with men like him. Maybe it’s better to just romanticize and think he’s great than actually know all his flaws. He changed the trajectory of my life - he made me truly see and prove the level I could get with men. If I didn’t meet him that night, maybe I would’ve had boyfriends already - not as cool or good looking as him obviously. But I think that would’ve definitely been the norm - to just get a typical good looking guy age from my country. As I think about it now, it’s like settling. Maybe I’d finally get over my shit with guys and be happy. But how can I just settle when someone proved a high but definitely possible standard?

[spauldingsimonson]

Everything was unmentionable but nothing was unimaginable.

The White Album, Joan Didion

(via

chanelbagsandcigarettedrags

)

[spauldingsimonson]

J

What is it about this about that after all these years... It’s almost a decade since we had a “thing”, yet here I am... 

There was this boy I met before I left high school. It was prom night and a mutual friend brought him into our hotel room so we could be teenagers and drink after prom and be cool. That small hangout has made us friends. Until one time, I was surprised he just started talking to me more and opening up. Like how jealous his girlfriend can be to how a year later, his stress with not getting into the college he wanted. This was the time I had a feeling he’s starting to like me. Or maybe he already liked me then, and I was just oblivious.

It was when he was more flirty and eventually asked me out while he was having more problems with his girlfriend and more sure of breaking up with her when I have officially let myself acknowledge what was happening. I never saw him as the type I would see on the romantic side. Boys were starting to finally notice me and most of them, or maybe all of them have started flirty. Nobody started like friends like we did. There were lots of time in college he would invite me to parties from his school, or clubs, or anything for the two of us to hang out. I was scared and didn’t know what to do. I haven’t thought of him as a serious prospect even if we talk a lot and loved that he can level to my thoughts and craziness. He made me feel cool to be myself. I was so used to boys thinking I had to be more simple, less loud and girly. Yet I had a feeling these are things he liked about me.

After continuously hiding and finding reasons not to hang out with him, we talked less and got a girlfriend. When he did, I broke down. Did I just waste a great guy? He finally moved on from me and found a girl way richer than me, cooler, and smarter. She was talented, too. It absolutely didn’t help that she was taller, pretty, well-traveled and successful even if she is younger than me. I wouldn’t say she’s prettier because I know I’m way prettier, but still... I haven’t cried and reminisced for a boy and all our moments and messages until that happened. My friends were shocked about to see how I uncharacteristically cried to the point of a surprised public breakdown for my 2-3 guy classmates to witness in public. I was with my best friend then and she told me that people were staring and felt bad for me. I didn’t need that pity. I was pathetic and already pitied myself. The pity of the public, my classmates, and my friends were just more pain added to all the pain I felt inside. My ex best friend also told me how she already had a feeling about what was happening when we were still in high school and I was oblivious and was shocked to know that she said we worked, he was great for me, and that she was rooting for us. I reached rock bottom probably when I messaged him telling him that I missed him. It wasn’t the most direct and I don’t remember the whole deal now. All I remember is that it was short, he was fortunately not getting how I was feeling (I hope) and I think I just embarrassed myself. During these months or probably a year or two, all I kept thinking about is why was I never as kind as he was to me? Why can’t I just hang out for once? Or why can’t I just casually tell him l loved him whenever he did. I can easily say it to my friends, why can’t I with him?

The more years they lasted, the more trips and obvious reasons how in love they are, the more I just give up on the idea of us and add more misery to my already spiralling college life. When I finally had enough, I cleaned my room on the last day of the year as usual, throwing out things I didn’t need, I figured to throw out my misery and patheticness over a boy who was obviously not thinking about me anymore. I decided to message him happy holidays and a happy new year as my last message and start the last night of the year free and moving on. He replied quick during the afternoon and was more flirty than he had ever been. I can only guess it’s because he and the girl broke up and not because he was still into me. I hated the feeling then, and the more that I hate it now. It’s like I was slowly moving on and he was slowly becoming less of a sweetheart than he was... It didn’t help that on the first party of the new year that I came to, he was there. In the entrance. Shouting my name. I was pretending I couldn’t hear him over the speakers and casually just went ahead to the bar. Yet, my friends (who are big fans of him) were there, stopped and started calling me as well that he was there. I had no choice but to acknowledge him. I’ve almost moved on and decided to move on and this shit happens. He always pops up. This happened only once, yet he still pops up on my mind until now. Anyways, that night turned out to be the disaster that stopped whatever little communication we had. I pretended to be with a guy who generously agreed. He stopped the act when he saw that he would just hang out at the end of our table and fake boyfriend told me “I can’t do it when he’s looking at you very obviously in love.” The stupidity in me was a little satisfied but the rational me was just not having it anymore. He was just sad over his break up probably. He doesn’t like me anymore and is OBVIOUSLY not in love with me. This was painfully confirmed when he decided to kiss me in front of his friends. What the fuck was that? I was obviously trying to avoid him all night, and after hiding from the bathroom, he would just be there waiting on the dance floor waiting to kiss me so his friends could see? WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT? I tried to be nice and redeem his embarrassment by talking to him casually before his group left. I even stupidly acted drunk when I “drunk” texted him and he didn’t reply.

That was when I finally woke up and decided that was the last straw. Shame aside, no one would watch his messages if he messaged me saying sorry or whatever. I didn’t need the perfect reply. He didn’t even need to apologize. He could just pretend nothing happened and asked if I got home alright, and yet he didn’t. Every time I miss him, that night stops me. It didn’t stop me when I messaged during my lowest during the pandemic where he was diving. Or pretending I was in the same resort as him when he was in the same island as me. I just needed to know if he still liked me. Or there was a small chance he was thinking about me or willingness to message me. He didn’t. Went to rock bottom again by CRYING after 3 or 4 years since that night about him, forgetting his disinterest, unwillingness, and made an anonymous instagram full of screenshots of patheticness and lyrics of heartbrokenness. 

After I wrote about my previous post, I told one of my best friends and his name was brought up again. It was just about time to write about him. I was starting to forget how disinterested he is with me. I can’t lie and say I leveled in conversation with boys like him. But it’s been too long and enough is enough when I start to think of him as someone I should put in a pedestal when it comes to boys in my life. “A” may be confusing, but at least he would have treated me kinder. It also made me realize calling me outside clubs with my friends when I was pretending not to hear would lead to complicatedness. LOL. Even more complicated over the fact that they look alike...

J, I’m so happy to finally be over you. I hope you’re kinder now and more thoughtful because you look less hot now. I hope you still think about me from time to time. Especially because your girlfrend’s name sounds wayyyy similar to mine. I hope you miss me and that we can talk again. More honest and open this time. I forgive you for that night. And I’m sorry for everything.

[spauldingsimonson]

Dear A,

I cannot stop thinking about you. I actually hate it. I hope you know how much it hurts my tremendous ego writing this. 

The first time I met you, all I remember is you are tall. That’s it. I didn’t even bother why you were with us or what your name is. All I could think about was how to look good in front of one of the guys we were with. Then by the end of the night when we were in Mcdonald’s, I saw how nice and helpful you are. I told you I don’t wanna wear my glasses, so you just read the whole menu to me and I was shocked at how quickly you thought that would make sense. It doesn’t. I was being a vain brat, and you just let me. Then when one of your annoying friends was insinuating if you had a chance with me, then it clicked upon me that you like me. It absolutely not even pop in my head to give you a chance. Even if you stayed until when the sun rose with me and my best friend to get into our car safely. I’m sorry but you’re just not my type.

Well, just because you give off massive nerd vibes doesn’t mean I haven’t dealt with that. When I was in high school, this “nice” dude with glasses was surprisingly into me. I don’t know when I started liking him to be honest, I was more interesting and academically and maybe generally just smarter than he is. But when I saw that a lot of girls were into him, and he wasn’t exactly the nerdy type of weird, I started liking him I guess. We were seniors and he was the very first one who made me think Shit, a kinda popular guy is into me and I think I like him back. I know it’s awful, but I can’t help it. I wasn’t exactly popular but already then, I knew my standards. I think he was the very first guy that made me cry... and secretly wrote a letter, too.

Then you messaged me on instagram - which I was surprised you still did because I was used to guys messaging me instantly after a night out. It took you days or a few weeks I think to find me, because the bitch that I am thought it would be fun not giving you my handle, and search hard enough. I was so flattered to know that you even added two girls who I wasn’t even friends with just to see if we were mutual on facebook. Up to now, it still makes me laugh and smile because honestly, even if those girls and I were close friends, damn. You were actually willing to just ask them so openly what my handle is. For someone as confident as me, I couldn’t even think of doing that cos that shit is embarrassing. Then all you did was boost my ego a little bit then make me question in the end why you would just end our conversation so fast. It’s still so confusing me to now. You obviously like me, embarrassed yourself in my point of view by adding random people, and asking your annoying friend to search for my handle, messaged me that you did all these, yet stop a conversation that was going well so quickly.

Then years later, holy shit you saw me when I thought I was looking a little shit wearing the flattest sandals and you changed your hair. I heard you when you shouted my name, I was just planning to not deal with you to be honest. I didn’t wanna deal not looking good and talking to someone who stopped talking to me, especially when I got a glimpse that you were looking cute with your new hair. Ungratefully at that time, my friends stopped when they heard you calling me and called me as well to go to you. If you only saw how they looked at you lol. Without them, I wouldn’t be able to take in how you looked at me the entire night. And I hate that now that I think about that night, I just remember that you were so interested and just wanted to know what was up with me. With the whole new hair going on, looks of my friends towards you, the height, the (what seemed as genuine) interest in me, and the kindness, it made me see you in a nicer light. Though it bothered me that I keep seeing my ex-fling’s ( if that’s what it was) face on your face.

After a while, I saw that you got a girlfriend. It hurt my ego a little bit. When I stalked her, you guys made sense. You both seemed like nice nerds. We weren’t friends and maybe you didn’t like me that much because you just end one convo after finding me. And after what my friends say, they’re right. I would’ve destroyed you. I still don’t think it would’ve been entirely my fault though. It is still unexplainable to me that you only talk to me for a short time every few years. Like, what the fuck is up with that? Do you even like me?

A few years again, I made a story after I had a date. My high school crush who is a total player messaged me leaving me very very ecstatic. Then you messaged me as well... which was surprising after years of nothing, asking me to eat soon and when I agreed, you were like “Oh I’m busy right now, maybe next month.” What the actual fuck was that? When you ask people out, you give a certain date asshole. It still pisses me off today, because even if I find you sweet, it is in my tendencies to not accept dates with guys like you. No matter who you tell this shit to, they would see it as a shitty thing to do to ask someone out then just be indecisive about the whole thing. I kinda forgive you though, you did say you’re stupid about this kinda shit. Obviously.

After some conversations during the pandemic, I started to have conflicting thoughts about you... and the possibilities of what we could be. It bothers me. Ok let’s talk about the pros:

You seem genuinely nice.

You’re tall. I could wear heels when we go out.

You’re not so bad looking.

The voice is hot. Not gonna lie.

You’re sweet.

Honest.

You don’t have a broken family.

You don’t seem like you’ll cheat on me.

I like that you got therapy. I think that takes a lot of courage to deal with. You don’t even feel shame about it, which is surprising.

You surprise me...

Now the cons:

I’m scared to deal with the whole therapy thing... like what if I do something grand, or wrong... I feel like a burden would be greatly held upon me.

I can be mean. My circles can be mean. I’m scared you won’t be able to put up with the awful banter and the judgments. 

I mean you have a terrible instagram no offense. I truly believe image is a big thing even if everyone would say I’m shallow. But it is to me. Like for example, I think it is so nice and sweet to upload your therapy videos on instagram because you said it’s good to be open for awareness. I believe that. But a weird video isn’t exactly it. You could just post a nice picture and have a really good caption. 

THE JUDGMENTS. I’m fucking sorry. I truly am.

Your weird fucking messaging. Do you even like me?

Wow writing those lists make me feel like shit now. More shit than the beginning of this because I know that I have to be better and just message you. But the last time I tried, you just don’t seem interested anymore. You don’t view my stories anymore. You stopped messaging. Our past messages, they all seemed off already. I know I should move on already. I told myself that after the last time I messaged you and tried to give off nice vibes, you just replied in the most platonic short answers not showing any interest anymore. You didn’t even ask me out anymore even though I was obviously saying that I’m in your city... that shit hurts. Maybe I deserve some of the hurt. And I apologize for that. But it doesn’t mean that I deserved the confusion and indecisiveness from you.

Anyways, I’m supposed to be writing two late papers today, yet here I am writing all of this. All these feelings came back again when I finished reading a book yesterday and the girl and the guy on the book really reminded me of us and I... I don’t know. It made me miss you. I miss talking to you. I miss your weird questions that make me really think. I miss being surprised by you. Do you even know how pathetic this whole thing is? I’m 99% sure my future self would read this entry and laugh and cringe over this stupidity. I mean, the worst part of this shit is because we haven’t even dated thanks to you. 

I truly hope that I get over all over this shit with you after this whole letter. It doesn’t mean I wouldn’t stalk you later at night, or wish you’d see me looking good in public and talk “during the day, sober” like you’d say, or wish you’d message me during the holidays, or greet me in the new year, or just message me whenever, or just hope you still think about me... But I will get over you. Because we both deserve better. 

[spauldingsimonson]

Corrections

Instead of writing my late essay and a seatwork I’m supposed to turn in a few hours, I’ve had the urge to open tumblr and write how I got it all wrong with my first blog post here.

Ever since one of my best friends and her very old boyfriend, I slowly woke up from the mess that it is age gap relationships. Maybe it’s a combination of my feelings then with how I ended things with N, and how I couldn’t accept that one of my best friends who I talked to a lot at that time agreed that we would only date old guys for their money, ended up falling seriously in love with what I see as a dirty old pig.

It still baffles me, and maybe will forever be, that someone as obviously immature as he is for his age, and creepily weird to get someone like her. I saw my friend as one of the mature ones of the group. She became more empowered and matured during the pandemic after breaking up with her long time boyfriend, but it’s like I see as if she has trapped all this wisdom in her to settle. And ever since then, everytime I remember her all I could see is the hypocrisy.

Does this make me a bad feminist? It is her own life and this is the choice she has made. And sure, physicialties aside, I have only met him once. And even then, he was weird as fuck. I think that’s what everyone thinks of him as well. But oh well, it is my life. Even if it bothers me, let’s just see where this mess goes. Though I cannot help that it gives me a little pleasure knowing she was promised an early engagement when they got together and now it’s been years of proposals and she is still stuck. I feel a little bit bad because she has been one of my closest friends, but I can’t help my feelings of schadenfreude. It makes me sad that one tiktok saying you inevitably lose friends when you get into a relationship makes her think that it is absolutely alright to suddenly go more and more quiet on our group chats. Sure, everyone has their thing and she is an introvert. But she wasn’t even like this in her old relationship. I think if you’re going to settle, make sure to settle in less mess. If you’re gonna get a rich old guy, make sure he is rich. I have not seen material things she has wanted for a long time with her, and she is still struggling with her job. What happened to her goals? I know everything changes, but in the whole spirit of her just posting positivity and growth shit, the least that we should see or hear from her should probably be growth shit too.

And this has been the whole deal with me on age gap relationships. I just see an insecure guy slowly erasing the greatness in a young, vulnerable and impressionable girl. It grosses me out and scares the shit out of me. I cannot imagine losing what makes me great. Just like any other human being, I am a hypocrite too. It’s not like this has stopped me from liking old guys. It definitely has lessened. But if the opportunity rises up, I’ll take it. But I would definitely not wanna end up like my friend. It scares me that putting this out, and not letting it stay on my brain might put me in this situation that I don’t want, but oh well. Best I can do is have strength and confidence in myself to not let myself be blind to these things. If I get a rich old guy, I’d definitely make sure it gives me the benefits that one typically has. Travel, material things, and connections - because honestly isn’t that the fucking point? Those guys definitely know why they like young girls and what we bring. So if the topic of love ever brings up on these situations, fuck that. The guys only love the youth and the ego boost us young girls bring. They don’t respect us. I’ve seen and heard way too many conversations on these things in real life. Young pussy gives them life. The girls don’t love the guy, they love the money. And whether I like it or not, I will be a suspect to many of these. I just absolutely hope my friend will be the last of these in my life, and that she finally wakes up from the shitstorm that is her relationship.

I know that of course there are some exceptions like a 40 year old and maybe a 50 year old. But that’s fine because they are both already. It’s the 18-20s that bother me so much. So for this Spaulding Simonson shit, all I see now is all the wrongdoings of the guy. Guys have problems and see some energetic manic pixie girl and think she’s the only one who could solve his problems. How can they think that when it is very obviously not? This whole post makes me think now if I should change my name here, or let it stay as one of the signs of my growth.

[spauldingsimonson]

Proust Questionnaire - 20 October 2022

Before I write about how my first post here now may be problematic, I’ve decided to post another Proust questionnaire first because of how happy I am with my last post. I wanna see my change in here as well.

What is your idea of perfect happiness?

Peace

And okay yeah, money. Let’s be realistic.

What is your greatest fear?

To lose myself and my loved ones.

What is the trait you most deplore in yourself?

I love myself so much that deplore is such a hyperbolic word to describe that I wish I was less lazy.

What is the trait you most deplore in others?

Lack of courage.

Which living person do you most admire?

First person that popped into my head is Alexei Navalny. 

What is your greatest extravagance?

Easy - definitely still, my vanity.

What is your current state of mind?

Happiness, gratefulness, and hope. ❤️

What do you consider the most overrated virtue?

I can’t think of one... there’s so much bad things going on in the world that we need more virtues in action.

On what occasion do you lie?

I still think I lie a lot but now that I think about it really, I think I’ve been lying less these days... WOW.

What do you most dislike about your appearance?

I wish I had abs and perfect skin. B cup boobs sometimes and a never flattening round ass that would still accentuate my admirable thigh gap right now. 

Which living person do you most despise?

The tyrants. The corrupt politicians. Abusers. Whoever is in charge of making celebrities held to such high pedestals. Racists. Fragile boys.

What is the quality you most like in a man?

Respectful and confident. And of course, charm - either he has it or he doesn’t. And these men who don’t have it are sadly the majority. And that’s why it’s so special.

What is the quality you most like in a woman?

Confidence. Security.

Which words or phrases do you most overuse?

I wish I really could be more poetic but “omg” “fuck” and “ily” are probably the top terms you’d see on my phone and hear from me.

What or who is the greatest love of your life?

My family. Ate Rina. Dave & Mocha. My friends.

When and where were you happiest?

Right now. 2022 is great and it’s only the start of my very long happy journey.

Which talent would you most like to have?

Singing. Writing. Playing the violin.

If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?

Be less lazy.

What do you consider your greatest achievement?

My current self :) 

If you were to die and come back as a person or a thing, what would it be?

I think a guy version of me would be so entertaining and less frightened.

Where would you most like to live?

An amazing house at the coast of the least racist mediterranean country maybe. Definitely with a yacht. And then a huge apartment on a skyscraper... I don’t know where yet.

What is your most treasured possession?

Materially, my jewelry. 

What do you regard as the lowest depth of misery?

Living in fear.

What is your favorite occupation?

Whatever that brings peace, beauty, and truth in this world.

What is your most marked characteristic?

Maybe my laissez-faire attitude on a lot of things. My confidence.

What do you most value in your friends?

The love we have for each other.

Who are your favorite writers?

I can’t say I’ve read many but Leo Tolstoy wrote my favorite book so he will be my top one.

Who is your hero of fiction?

Winnie the Pooh... and Paddington...

Which historical figure do you most identify with?

Julia Roberts in My Best Friend’s Wedding is a historical figure in my world, and never have I related to a bitch like her that I so love.

Who are your heroes in real life?

So many - my parents, Ate Rina, people who bring joy and hope

What are your favorite names?

Russian names are just so beautiful to me

What is it that you most dislike?

Greed, insecurity, hatred.

What is your greatest regret?

I’ve watched Vengeance a few weeks ago and there was a scene near the end there when J. Smith Cameron that said she doesn’t believe in people who say they don’t have regrets. She believed that people live in regrets their whole lives. But it is up to them to make that regret worth it. I find that so brilliant. So in that sense, I regret that I didn’t open up more then. Especially with boys. Even if I would have probably end up in heartache, I’d like to believe there really would’ve been great things that could’ve happened there. And so... even if I regret those, I believe it’s okay. Maybe someone or something I do, will make it all worth it.

How would you like to die?

Not that we have a choice, but hopefully very very old, happy and in peace, with my loved ones. With a fantastic view of course.

What is your motto?

Can’t think of anything wild at the moment since my mind right now is filled with thoughts of merienda... but the first thing that popped into my head is to not live in fear so that we don’t get into our deathbed filled with regrets.

[spauldingsimonson]

Oh how the tables have turned...

Wow... I’ve been thinking about putting some of my writings here again on tumblr so I could record them in some way and look back upon them. And then when the thought has struck me again to finally open tumblr, what I’ve stumbled upon is my old posts and I’m so taken aback on how much contempt I had before. Since then, I’ve decided to definitely redeem myself to my future self that I’m no longer an ungrateful and unloving bitch. I am at my happiest right now and I’ve thinking for a while now that my life has really changed for good things. FINALLY.

First and foremost, it hurt to read how much hate I had for my family, especially my parents so I will like to take that back immediately. It hurt so much that I thought about deleting this account and starting a new one so those words, even though unlikely, will never be read again or even just be in this universe. For the past months, all I could think about is how supportive my parents always have been. And yes, they may not be perfect, but they have certainly gave me a good childhood and a good life. And that is definitely enough. I’ve been taking a subject this term called Understanding the Self, and though I’ve already know some bits and pieces about the topics discussed, it’s great to be refreshed again upon these topics. Whenever I get to know a person, whether it be a friend, a boy, or some celebrity I saw on the internet, I’ve always searched about their early life -  their parents, their school, their teenage years if there’s clues - so I could understand the way they are. It’s so instinctive for me to do this that I think I’ve always found it easier to judge why someone’s a little fucked than truly reflect for a bit that for years, I keep wishing for a better life. I’ve always wished that we were richer, maybe had western origins, went to different schools, had cooler teenage years, took the opportunities I had with boys so I could be full of wisdom now, and so on. And then now... I’ve never been so grateful for this Wednesday class. It has woken up something great in me. It has brought about how I am who I see I am today - a strong and confident woman, with so much joie de vivre. 

My past self would probably keep thinking I became this person because I indulged myself in Hollywood entertainment as a kid, read way too much magazines, read too many teenage books, watched too much Western movies and shows that people from where I live don’t always get my references. They think I’m this smart and cultured bitch who belongs in a higher scale of society. I have in good instincts that most of them probably thinks this way about me. I’m not gonna lie, I fucking love it. But really, I am the way I am is basically my parents let me be myself growing up. They knew I liked these things and they just let me be and supported me. And for this kind of love, I will be eternally grateful.

Whenever the idea of parents and family are brought upon these days, it’s generally good. Yes it’s a bit mixed with the whole politically correct society that we are in, with people being more honest about having shit parents or a shit family to be more “authentic” on social media. And whenever I see these stuff, all I could think about is “Oh wow, no wonder you’re insecure” or some horrible shit like that. I mean I get that it’s not their fault. But yeah... So I guess I could definitely say I’m still an arrogant bitch in a sense because of this thinking. Maybe it’s because I know that when I fail, I still get support. I’m still loved. It’s what keeps me strong. Being brought up by my parents may not be 100% perfect, but look at me now. I am SO happy. I don’t remember the last time I was this optimistic in life. I am so grateful for my life that all I’ve been thinking for months now is that everything that went wrong with me for past years are all just blessings in disguise. I truly believe it.

In class, there’s this girl C, who’s a 35 year old who describes herself as a nihilistic optimist. Whenever we had an essay about reflections in our lives, I find myself being interested in what she has to say. I see my old self in her. And even though I like her and find her cool, it’s also not hard to think she can be such an annoying downer. Damn, was I really like that before?! I hope not... I smile now as I think about how opposite emotions evoke in our papers. She writes about there is no God, that people are naturally evil, that we are all doomed, and that there’s no more hope. Yet all I could ever write about now is about gratefulness. Oh how the tables have turned... thank you God for everything. I may not still be religious, but I really do choose to believe. Science has facts and I believe in it, but we really are more than just that. There are so many things that can’t be explained, and I want to believe in them. The beyond. I love the person that I’m becoming right now really. Maybe that’s why it was so easy for me to just write in this account really. As much shame there is for me to see my hatred then, it also makes me so proud to see how much growth there is now.

[spauldingsimonson]

September 30, 2021 -My Second Proust Questionnaire

I am writing this at 2am with rage and frustration as my depression is creeping again.

What is your idea of happiness?

Freedom and money.

What is your greatest fear?

Snakes are still there... but let’s add that the fact that I am afraid of people binding into the perception that I am my family. I love my parents, especially my dad. But I am not my family. And I refuse to be. 

What historical figure you most identify with?

Sylvia Plath.

Which living person do you most admire?

Britney Spears and Kate Moss.

What is the trait you most deplore in yourself?

Do I deplore the fact that I easily am willing to cut off relationships out of pride? I don’t know yet... Maybe.

What is that you most deplore in others?

Everything.

What is your greatest extravagance?

My vanity.

What is your favorite journey?

Very long red-eye flights. Alone.

What do you consider the most overrated virtue?

Patience.

On what occasion do you lie?

Every occasion... except to myself.

What do you dislike most about your appearance?

My height. My imperfect skin. My weakening hair. The fat that I have gained that has given me an average body.

Which living person do you most despise?

White men. My family. I love my dad but I despise his delusional whiteness. His son. My mother most of the time.

Which words or phrases do you most overuse?

“Fuck me." - I say as the world continues to fuck me.

What is your biggest regret?

My previous schools... If i studied more, tried hard to achieve more than the average, maybe I would’ve graduated on time and not depend on my family’s money at fucking 25. Would I be happy in this life? Probably not... but I’d be less miserable.

What or who is the greatest love of your life?

Ate Rina, our first English bulldog Dave, Mocha, my friends. Sometimes my dad.

When and where were you happiest?

1996 in the maternity room.

Which talent would you like to have?

Whatever makes the most money.

What is your current state of mind?

Hopeless. My depression is creeping up again... I am full of anger, frustration and regrets.

If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?

Everything. Except Ate Rina... and maybe my dad.

What do you consider your greatest achievement?

Nothing.

What is your most treasured possession?

My titanium rods.

What would you regard as the lowest depth of misery?

Hopelessness.

Where would you like to live?

In a mega yacht in the middle of the pacific. 

What is your favorite occupation?

I don’t dream of labor.

What is your marked characteristic?

My secrecy?

Who are your heroes in real life?

Ate Rina... sometimes my father. Writers who have created art that told me that I am not alone in the complexity of misery.

What are your favorite names?

Russian names.

What is the it that you most dislike?

Almost everything about my life.

How would you like to die?

During an orgasm. 

What is your motto?

I don’t even have a motto or I am just too tired to think of one but this Sylvia Plath quote I found tonight haunts me: “The trouble was, I had been inadequate all along, I simply hadn't thought about it.” 

[spauldingsimonson]

June 21, 2021 - My First Proust Questionnaire

As I may or may not put into the caption of my instagram post, I do hope I get to answer one last of this questionnaire the day I die. It might help my biographer, or my memoir.

What is your idea of happiness?

Freedom and money.

What is your greatest fear?

Snakes.

What historical figure you most identify with?

Paris Hilton.

Which living person do you most admire?

Britney Spears and Kate Moss.

What is the trait you most deplore in yourself?

Hating everyone.

What is that you most deplore in others?

Everything.

What is your greatest extravagance?

My vanity.

What is your favorite journey?

Red-eye flights.

What do you consider the most overrated virtue?

Patience.

On what occasion do you lie?

Every occasion.

What do you dislike most about your appearance?

My height.

Which living person do you most despise?

White men.

Which words or phrases do you most overuse?

Fucking fuck. I hope to make it “Fuck off” Logan Roy style.

What is your biggest regret?

My previous schools.

What or who is the greatest love of your life?

Ate Rina, our first English bulldog Dave, and George Clooney. Hugh Grant too.

When and where were you happiest?

1996 in the maternity room.

Which talent would you like to have?

Dancing and playing the violin.

What is your current state of mind?

Relaxed, but depressed. Narcissistic.

If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?

Have perfect hair and perfect skin. To remember more words I learn.

What do you consider your greatest achievement?

Moving on fast through circumstances.

What is your most treasured possession?

My titanium rods.

What would you regard as the lowest depth of misery?

Being abused by the government. [After reading David Bowie’s, I must add here] Living in fear.

Where would you like to live?

In a mega yacht in the middle of the pacific. 

What is your favorite occupation?

My parents’ headache.

What is your marked characteristic?

My incredible beauty and modesty.

Who are your heroes in real life?

My parents, Ate Rina, Thom Yorke, Anna Karenina, Prince.

What are your favorite names?

Russian names.

What is the it that you most dislike?

Almost everything… ask me what I like next time.

How would you like to die?

During an orgasm.

What is your motto?

My high school yearbook quote still fits: “If you’re not busy being born, you’re busy dying.” I always remember this Bob Dylan quote discovered from It’s Kind of a Funny Story. And I have to add this brilliant one I absolutely love:

“We are all alone, born alone, die alone and - in spite of True Romance magazines - we shall all someday look back on our lives and see that, in spite of our company, we were alone the whole way. I do not say lonely - at least, not all the time - but essentially, and finally, alone. This what makes your self-respect so important, and I don’t see how you can respect yourself if you must look in the hearts and minds of others for your happiness.” - Hunter S. Thompson, The Proud Highway: Saga of a Desperate Southern Gentleman, 1955-1967

[spauldingsimonson]

Discovering Proust’s Questionnaire

Last night, during Father’s Day here in the island that I am unfortunately still on, I have discovered the Proust Questionnaire on Vanity Fair. Jerry Lewis, who apparently is a famous comedian as said by my dad, is featured and I couldn’t stop laughing from his answers. No wonder he was famous and labeled as the King of Comedy. I’m gonna put here some of his answers that I absolutely love (which is almost everything):

What is your idea of perfect happiness? 

Marrying a nymphomaniac.

What is the trait you most deplore in yourself? 

No sense of humor.

What is the trait you most deplore in others? 

No sense of humor.

What is your greatest extravagance? 

Gasoline.

What do you consider the most overrated virtue? 

That I’m consistently taken for Robert Redford.

On what occasion do you lie? 

Every occasion and a lot.

What do you most dislike about your appearance?

I was once sic feet tall, but at 85, I’m now five feet four.

Which living person do you most despise?

Arnold Schwarzenegger.

What is your greatest regret?

Not finding another partner.

What or who is the greatest love of your life?

My 19-year-young daughter.

When and where were you happiest?

In 1926 and in the maternity room.

What is your current state of mind?

Depressed and ecstatic!!!

What do you consider your greatest achievement?

Losing to Nadal 6-0, 6-0.

What is your most treasured possession?

Dean’s shot glass.

What is your favorite occupation?

Babysitting Julia Roberts.

What is your marked characteristic?

My incredible handsomeness and modesty.

What do you most value in your friends?

Stuck in traffic.

What are your favorite names?

Snooki, Dolly, Lolita, Kim, Karr, Kate, and the rest of the convent.

What is it that you most dislike?

A convent.

How would you like to die?

I didn’t know we had a choice.

What is your motto?

“I shall pass through this world but once. Any good, therefore, that I can show any human being, let me do it now. Let me not defer or neglect it, for I shall not pass this way again.”

I did not get some of his answers like admiring Ryan Seacrest the most or who Pat Sajak is for him/her to have the talent he would most like to have, but nevertheless, it was brilliant that up to now I’ve been reading more Proust questionnaires on people I like, and decided to answer them from time to time to reflect on my current state and even upload them here.

[spauldingsimonson]

might just mess around and reclaim my human worth as intrinsic instead of defined by my productivity

[spauldingsimonson]

“Crying in broad daylight was something else, a whole other level of unhappiness.”

— Waiting for Bojangles, Olivier Bourdeaut

[spauldingsimonson]

Gentlemen Prefer Blondes (1953) dir. Howard Hawks

[spauldingsimonson]

“Who will touch me in the middle of this war.”

— Zaina Alsous, from “On Longing,” A Theory of Birds: Poems 

[spauldingsimonson]

“Stop being grateful for scraps. Everything good in my life has surged forth from one crucial moment or another when I said, “I am not settling for these scraps anymore. I want more than this for myself.””

— Heather Havrilesky, How to Be a Person in the World

[spauldingsimonson]

Coming to Writing and Other Essays, Hélène Cixous tr. Deborah Jenson