AllisonMaddox.com

Remember being in drivers Ed, the instructor had that brake on the passenger side of the car? I feel like my life has two separate brakes right now, no, not right now, always. I feel like every time I make a decision, there is another part of me that hit’s the brake; I don’t know which part of me is doing it, but I slow down, come to a complete stop, and don’t know what the hell to do afterward I am perturbed. So freaking perturbed right now. My lease is up on my apartment soon, which sounds like a good thing considering I hate my place right? Yeah, that would be the logical answer but I have no idea what to do. So I sit and think and weigh my options-no-dwell on my options. I want a house, I want a dog, I want the simplicity of an apartment, I want to travel, I want to move away, I want beautiful furniture, I want to live in a box free of worry, I want to be magical. I know exactly what I want yet I know nothing of me. I met this guy in the Denver airport last week. He was cute and charming. He called me a "pretty girl" and said I would go far if I only allowed myself to do so. Pfft.. you call me a pretty girl and I'm pretty much putty, but then I started thinking; I could easily say he was full of it but then again, I haven’˜t even TRIED to go far. Maybe I could? So what do I do? Whatever the hell I’m doing now sure isn’t working. I’m drinking beer, sitting on the fire escape of my asbestos lined apartment which is pretty much as stable as my life at the moment, my mind is going a mile a minute and I just decided to tell the world more about myself than I have ever allowed me to know. I wish I had the courage to pack a bag and leave this place. This miserable, beautiful, comfortable place. Please, please spare me your insightful comments of "I’m not alone". I love all my readers and become giddy reading your comments, but I just can’t hear that right now. I was supposed to write a book by now, I was supposed to be at least half way to success by now. I was supposed to be in love by now; maybe a couple of times. So much was supposed to happen. Here it goes again.. that passenger side brake. Lurching forward before whipping my head back to a complete standstill. Where do I go? What do I do? I’m not in my mid-life yet, so let’s call this my life crisis, because I’m sure it has been a long time coming. In my head, I have always known who I was, but my body has often betrayed me. I generate brilliant ideas (yes, I’m not so helpless to think I can’t be brilliant) and wonderful pictures. I am an artist in my brain. I can create and see vividly. Sometimes my brain is lovely. Then my body puts it to shame. I’d rather sit here doing nothing than put in force anything you have collaborated, my body says. In my mind I have seen Italy and Palestine. In my mind I have taken risks and moved away from Spokane. In my mind I have changed the world with my writing. In my mind I have written a glorious movie that radiates the art of motion picture. In my mind.. I have everything figured out. Brake.

Posted: June 15, 2011 at 4:18 pm

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I just met my niece Valerie, yesterday and I feel an overwhelming sense of love for her. I honestly don’t think I have ever loved any thing or human as much as I love this little infant that I held so gently in my arms. And I don’t know why, because its not MY baby but she is part of me as much as dear my sister who bore her. It may seem like a simple thing to some but I don’t care. This is a huge deal to my family and me. I had so much apprehension about coming on this trip. I was suffering from bad memories and self tormenting demons. I considered not going and meeting my little girl over pictures and phones. Now, to think of that, I get shivers of almost-regret. You were right, Rachel. I would forever regret not being there with you. I am sitting on the airplane home right now (the airplane that I had hoped with all my heart I would miss) and still smelling the faint smell of a newborn. Its so sweet. I love my little Val. Little Val…. She makes so many people smile; she is infectious. Congratulations Rachel and Seth, you have the most beautiful baby in this or any other universe.

Posted: June 08, 2011 at 6:58 pm

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Confession: I’m single and I have a cat, but here is the kicker; I’m not a cat lady. I don’t even like cats that much. So why do I have this cat you may ask? Well, it is because I saw a victim in the form of a 16 year old cat that was all too familiar to me and I decided to save him. I saved his spirit and gave him a decent place to live out the rest of his life. He is a beautiful creature really. Friendly, affectionate and loving. A little too needy than what I am used to but that comes as part of the package of sacrifice. My house is not as clean as I want it to be anymore and I have to clean a litter box which I find disgusting but I feel good about giving a living and breathing creature a safe place to live. The reason for this blog is because I am overly (rather ridiculously) sensitive about being a ‘cat lady’ and I will irrationally react to people because I KNOW that is what they are thinking of me… no I don’t really know, but some people have made those distasteful jokes about me in the past which I always found obnoxious and ironic because I knew I would never have a cat (being that I am not a cat lady). Now that I have a cat, those cat lady comments make me want to cry and rip off the ears of my provoker. So here I am, pouring out my sensitivity to the World Wide Web, which I find both difficult and therapeutic. I don’t think this is going stop my insecurity of the cat lady label, but I think it may help me believe that I am not one. Really, is there such thing as a cat lady anyway? A single man with a cat is bypassed, not a ‘cat man’. A single woman with a dog is just a single woman with a dog. But a single woman with a cat or multiple cats has a terrible disadvantage. I am going to attempt to stop the label and persona of a cat lady, here and now. Whoever stumbles upon this blog, please stop using the term ‘cat lady’. And while I’m on it, don’t use the word ‘retarded’ or ‘gay’ as adjectives, it’s just distasteful.

Posted: May 26, 2011 at 11:19 am

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Ever wonder how perfection was defined? I do about 23 hours and 45 minutes a day. There is an epidemic that formed at the start of consumerism and each and every one of you is familiar with it. It’s called self-consciousness. So, here is a little story that brought the subject to my wandering mind: A while ago I was watching The Colbert Report (as I often find myself doing rather than being productive) and he was talking about the rise of consumerism and how their target is mainly women-because you could put a flawless woman on television wearing a mustache and so long as they make a good claim, women everywhere will be wearing that mustache! Think about it. When did you start picking up that anti-cellulite cream in the drug store? I did when I saw those beautiful women in short shorts with amazing legs. Did you know, if you use Nair, your legs will transform into four foot, bronze shapely things that you can model in your bikini bottoms? The commercial fails to mention the potential burning when you pee. So here I was, laughing helplessly at Mr. Colbert when he introduced a new product that targets new ridiculous self conscious: armpits. This is for real; there is a new deodorant out there that is aimed specifically at making your armpits more attractive. This is the sick part; I’m sitting here giggling and realizing consumerism truly is to blame for insecurities, but I’m also thinking, “I kind of want that deodorant”! I suppose it is the comic intellectuals like Steve Colbert that can bring me down to earth because in my great effort to achieve perfectionism, this scandal never dawned on me until now. I have a major problem with insecurities and am constantly comparing myself to everybody else. But this revelation has introduced a new light on the issue. I don’t want to be the target of mass consumerism, but that is exactly what I turned out to be (though I won’t wear Sketcher shape-ups because, damn they’re ugly).

Posted: May 09, 2011 at 1:53 pm

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Valentine’s Day is in all literal ways, a catholic celebration of the patron Saint Valentine. I just so happen to be researching the practices of Catholicism for a project I am working on and came across this celebrated saint at an appropriate time of the year. Valentine’s Day actually falls upon the date of Saint Valentine’s execution; that is not the type of event I was thinking of while I was pasting 27 pink hearts to white doilies and addressing them to all of the students in my second grade class. I’m sure a lot of people don’t think about the significance of Valentine’s Day because it has become a celebration of love and flowers and the color red, but in reality, what made the martyr priest a saint was his heart for couples, epileptics, travelers and plague victims. His help to these people is what condemned him under the reign of Claudius II. Does this mean because I am not a Christian I have no right to celebrate Valentine’s Day? If that is the case, a whole lot of criminal behavior goes down during Mardi gras. No, I think not. I suppose everything evolves over time but it is interesting to me how it does so. I don’t understand how this holiday became or more or less, a Hallmark holiday. However, as we age, this holiday becomes either a dreaded event for the singles or a gloating one for the couples… I’m here to offer you a third option. Celebrate our Patron Saint, or your inner child that used to love to past pink hearts onto white doilies. Celebrate goodness that is or was defiant the way Valentine and other great figures of history did. I am proud to say I am single on this day of martyred celebration because it allows me to have multiple ‘valentines’ (which is a stupid term; it is like giving a Christmas present to somebody and saying “be my Jesus?”). I will celebrate martyrdom as Saint Valentine would have wanted, I will bless the loves of my life… my mother, my family, my friends, my city, my teddy, my coffee, chocolate, my black hat, my dog…. All of the things that I would gladly save for the sake of a greater good-yes, I am willing to be a martyr for all of those things. Though Valentine was not deemed a Saint until over 200 years after his death, I am hoping my enlightened philosophy on the subject will earn me sainthood before Valentine was honored. I will also accept the Nobel Peace Prize, a Pulitzer, an Oscar, or a gift card to Amazon.

Posted: February 13, 2011 at 8:27 pm

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Maybe I am too old (though I doubt it) but I do not get the appeal in notifying every minute of my life to the social world via wireless devices. I think it’s funny; you go out to a nice restaurant for a nice dinner, you are in the middle of a delicious meal or a good conversation and then (DING) a brilliant idea strikes you to tell your entire contact list this ordinary event- from your high school peeps to co-workers to friends of friends-and you take out your phone (a gadget you never go ANYWHERE without because, duh, you have a life!) and open your web browser which is probably set to go to Facebook or Twitter straight away and you type in your ‘status’ box, “I’m at…. The Marquee @ 8:52 pm”. I hope you didn’t forget your collared t-shirt. It makes me laugh. I’ll admit, I have a Facebook profile, I was actually one of the few of us that started our profiles when it was called The Facebook and a college ID was required to subscribe. I check it a few times a week and I use it for keeping in touch with my friends that I don’t see very much and wish to keep in contact with. I think it is silly though, the fad that it has turned into. What is the point of doing something fun and extraordinary when you have to pull out your wireless device and tell the world exactly where you are at the exact time you were there? I once saw a Facebook status that said, “I just want to stay here alone looking at my ceiling… it’s so peaceful.” How ironic that at your most valued moments of privacy, you need to involve the rest of the world. My phone doesn’t do anything special. I don’t have the internet, I don’t have a keyboard and the camera (when it works) takes pictures as if the object were moving and in the dark. I love my phone. It does exactly what I ask of it. It allows me to communicate when I want to, which most of the time, I don’t. But I swear, soon enough, the newest technology will start installing wireless internet in places that are only meant to stay concealed. How long do you think it will be until surgical procedures will involve probing our bodies with an antennae that will allow us to tell all of the world wide web that we are at The Marquee at 8:57 pm. I think I fear this more than the apocalypse. It may seem that I have become more cynical; I haven’t, I am just voicing it now. I think you all are silly and I don’t care that you were at the Marquee at 8:57 pm. And really, who does care? I would think that the people who you would want to know those things would either be there with you, or you would extend the invitation before 8:57

Posted: January 15, 2011 at 4:19 pm

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I watched the movie Black Swan the other night. If you have a problem with corruption, hysteria, lesbianism or eeriness, this is not the movie for you. But if you would like to see an incredibly raw performance and don’t mind seeing some disturbing images so long as the movie is well done, than I would suggest it. I am not yet sure if I liked the movie or not; but I certainly appreciate the art of the film. It was dark and mysterious and once you think you have an idea about what might be going on, you realize you really don’t. As a more than avid fan of Nicole Kidman’s, I am reluctant to say, Natalie Portman probably has the Oscar in the bag. Anyway, this is not to tell you how good or bad this movie was; I was motivated by this film to write about corruption. Everybody can identify corruption on a near daily basis, which is sad to me. I think no matter how decent you are as a human being, there is always a subconscious that wants more and may do anything to get it… the second part of that statement I feel separates the healthy and unhealthy forms of corruption. Where I will never pull out a lead pipe and beat the knee out of my opponent (HOLLA Tanya), I am ashamed to say I have sometimes had thoughts about what opportunities I would have if the competition was eliminated. Then that ‘hard-working’ spirit comes out in me and I realize the only good way to achieve something is through honesty and hard work. Sadly, I’ve known a lot of people that refuse to take that route. Whether it’s in at work, in relationships or lifestyles, there is always going to be problematic characters. I don’t want to sit here and point fingers at anybody because I am inclined to think this method is a mixture of human nature and the way things were perceived while growing up. In this film, corruption formed within the first few minutes between these ballerinas, all pursuing the same thing; to be the best. I suppose when working for something your entire life, morality can become clouded eventually and it may seem the only way to get your way is to corrupt the person in front of you. In this case, the main character’s worst enemy was herself. She couldn’t control her mind and her madness of wanting to be the best. This made me think about other lessons I have learned in my life. I have had a couple characters throughout my years that kept me so close it would have seemed we were best friends. Though after a while, I realized they only kept me around just to keep me one step behind where ever they were at the time. I was too meek to stand up for myself so I was naturally an easy victim. It took me a few years but I finally said ‘enough’ to this perpetual manipulation. I was a strong adversary to these people which is why they felt the need to keep me close, silent and self conscience. Once I recognized this, I stomped on the corruption in my life. I’m sure we have all felt so passionate about something that we become crazy, which is essentially what Black Swan is about. The key is to block that awful form of corruption that seems to seek us out so easily. I feel life’s most successful rewards are more fulfilling when you earn them through ethic. If life is one long game of manipulation, I don’t think it will every be satisfying.

Posted: December 18, 2010 at 2:11 pm

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I feel ashamed of myself because, until recently, I had a very difficult time being me when the time was crucial for it. It took me 25 years to realize, being me is not wrong! In fact, it is imperative to living a happy life. For a long time, when someone showed interest in me, in anyway, I would completely neglect my beliefs, my talents, myself; the traits that make me, me. Somebody would say something that I would completely disagree with or something against what I stand for, and I would stay silent, or worse, nod or say, "yeah..." as if I were neutral to the matter; as if my opinions didn't matter! Just thinking about this makes me sick with shame. I realized I was doing this the entire time, especially in my relationships or my potential relationships, and my soul would scream at me with impatience, causing even more anxiety that I already had, and then I had the stomach pains and sleep deprivation; this created a whole mess of chaos! It was not until very recently that I figured out the amazing revelation that it is okay to be me. It started with small, simple things like shoes: for the longest time, I didn't wear tall and beautiful shoes because I was afraid people would think I was too tall, being 5'9" barefoot. But then, as easily as tying my shoe, I realized, "why the hell would I care if people thought I was too tall?! They didn't make those gorgeous shoes with restrictions!" Another instance: I was contemplating dying my hair for the longest time, "but what would everybody think after being a blonde my whole life... and it's really nothing anybody would expect me to do... I just can't make that change." And then my conscience, which I had silenced for so long finally overpowered my fears and I dyed my hair. Though I was kindly reminded that 'gentlemen prefer blondes', I ignored that comment and considered that only one thing mattered-I loved it. There are so many traits and characteristics that make me who I am and I am no longer silencing them. I am clumsy; I love fair trade jewelry and have a ring for every one of my fingers; purple is my favorite color; though overly popular, I think the 'coexist' bumper stickers represent what we all should be doing; I am not gay but I am an open and proud GLB Ally; I think the Islamic religion is the most misunderstood in the world and I despise the word 'terrorist' when I hear people defining them; I think Steve Colbert and Ellen Degeneres are the funniest people alive; I love movies, not the way most people do, but in the art form; the annual Sunday of the Academy Awards is my favorite day of the year; I don't know enough about politics to consider myself a democrat or a republican but I am very liberal in my views; I idolize Nicole Kidman; I love Christmas music; I love jazz; I love Christmas jazz music; I don't like to cook and will sit on my couch starving because I refuse to do so; I am a chocoholic; I use my cell phone as it was originally invented for-I refuse to be wired everywhere I go and I hate texting a message more than a few words; I think people that text and drive are ignorant and irresponsible (few things piss me off more than texting and driving and drunk driving); I used to have a huge problem being wrong, but since I am often wrong in my arguments, I'm okay with it now; I think Wal-Mart is corrupt and I won't shop there; I would like to be an artist in several different forms; I love reading, though I am slow at it; I have a true adoration for Harry Potter; I cry when I am happy; I love coffee more than any other beverage; I have the most fun at dive bars and martini venues; Live music often annoys me because it is too loud; I wish I could dance; I still sleep with my Teddy Bear and the thought of not sleeping with him makes me anxious and sad; I love my family more than I could possibly explain; I think my mom and my older sister are true testaments to what women should be; I think my little sister and I follow in their footsteps by learning life's hard lessons and evolving in their guidance; I hate science and love, love, love history; I love anthropology because I think the world's conflicts are developed through cultural barriers, not political; I wish everybody had an open mind; Sometimes I have a hard time finding reason in life, but I know there is one; I think the public school system should implement foreign languages at a young age; I don’t think there is anything more terrifying and interesting as outer space; my aunts are my pseudo-mothers and I love them all more than I can explain; My cousins are some of my best friends and when I hear about people losing touch or not knowing theirs, it makes me sad because I couldn’t imagine my life without mine; I have an overwhelming respect for my grandparents; Sometimes I swear unnecessarily; I am not good with my money; I hate when people tell me what I should and shouldn’t do; I hate when people tell me what other people should and shouldn’t do; I think farts are hilarious; And I hate pickles… There you go. Those are several of my traits that I have no intention of changing or hiding. If you cannot accept them; too bad. Delete me from your facebook, remove me from your contacts, do what you have to do, because I am not changing.

Posted: December 11, 2010 at 2:16 pm

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Here’s something I find rather amusing; I don’t know one person who continuously makes conscientious decisions all of the time… I know some incredible, amazing, wonderful and decent in every way people, but even these magnificent people intermittently overdose on red wine or chocolate cake or a bag of Doritos, and it is those silly decisions I am referring to. The decisions that people seem to repeat over and over again; never seeming to learn from the consequences of those mistakes. Just this morning, I ate nearly an entire bag of mint chocolate chips, not because I thought it would be a good idea (in fact it was quite clear that this was a very bad idea). Now I am so sick to my stomach that my day’s nutrition consisted of mint chocolate chips and coffee (I’ll let your imaginations picture what my digestive system looks right now). This thought makes me wonder about our nature as human beings (as I often do). I think it’s this small imperfect feature that causes so many wonders to our species, because, let’s face, we are all a giant question mark in terms of logic and rationality. It was our masterminds that created the materials to land on the moon and it was us who decoded the science to save another human being through a heart transplant. However, the fact still remains, we still haven’t found the solution behind greed and hatred and addiction and (the enigma that ties this whole entry together) silly repeating mistakes that made me eat a bag of chocolate chips and ruin my appetite on this lovely Saturday. I feel this is an inquiry far beyond the hands of science.

Posted: November 16, 2010 at 9:26 pm

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In the past few weeks, I’ve changed careers, become a brunette and essentially professionalized my life. But with all of this change, I am asked, “What is your purpose?” I’m not exactly sure that anybody knows how to answer this question when you are as blindsided as I was. Sure, the way my life has panned out isn’t exactly what some may call orthodox… If you held up your index finger on your right hand, you will have the number of serious relationships I have had--keep that finger up for the number of serious relationships that have failed. If you made a fist what that same hand, you will have the number of children I see in my near future. Does this make me a ruined woman at the raw age of 25? Does this give a legitimate reason to fret about my life? Times have changed; women are presented with more opportunities than ever. I gratefully accept the culture of our past and the people who have chosen a different approach to life than I have. But I have not been presented with the opportunity to do settle down and be a mother or a wife (which I believe to be the most difficult job in the world). I have been presented with evolving independence. Does this make me purposeless? Does this make me fall grey? I suppose it may; but I’m having a hard time seeing exactly why. There are of course things I don’t like about my life. I often wish for a different lifestyle, but I think the one I have been given is good too, and I think I’ve done alright given the circumstances. When I was a kid I had the common thought that I would be married with children by my mid twenties; because that was what the majority of adults in my life did. Though this has happened to a lot of people around me, it hasn’t happened with me… The objective of this entry is not to make you feel sorry for me; it is supposed to have the opposite effect actually. I have had the opportunity to do other things that others have not been able to do. I can stay out late without anybody caring, I can spend my money however I like, I live my life independently and I am rarely lonely. I’m almost certain when I was asked about the ‘purpose of my life,’ the insinuation was geared generally to my marital and family status. Maybe I don’t have a purpose in that regard… but I think I have several others. Maybe my purpose was to provide the world with clumsiness, or to buy a homeless and socially disabled guy a Starbucks Frappaccino on a hot summer day (along with an insightful conversation), or to operate a movie theater for six years of my life, or maybe I was just meant to blend into society and learn about our strange culture. Perhaps my purpose hasn’t been fulfilled just yet, but don’t give up on me just yet. For God’s sake, I’m only 25.

Posted: October 24, 2010 at 7:58 pm

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Newest Entries :

	Brake. June 15, 2011
	A little message for the new addition June 08, 2011
	I am not a cat lady! May 26, 2011
	The creation of insecurities May 09, 2011
	Happy V-Day! February 13, 2011

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