Is this genuine or entitlement?

Sometimes I wonder if maybe we weren't meant to be happy...and other times I just wonder if I'm being pretentious?

Like the world owes me nothing.  All that I have I am fortunate to have and I should make the best of.  Between a loving family, technology at my fingertips, an intellect with curious capabilities, and some money to have fun with maybe I'm better than I like to think I am sometimes.

I recently spent memorial day weekend in the hamptons (with one of the bloggers from Back Row Critics) and I enjoyed every second of it.  Walking through Southampton I realized that I loved the town and the cleanliness and the couture but I also realized that this seriously may never bring me happiness.  Though who doesn't love all the designer cars and clothes?  Anywho, I always feel inadequate when I compare that to my own life.  But then I remembered that my own life is real. 

I love the idea of the Hamptons, and of Cape Cod, and of Aspen, and of Beverly Hills.  But I'm starting to realize that all of these places are just ideas...at least for me.  I kind of want to focus on what I can do with my life and what I can create.  I want to get back to my creative roots and if that brings me some prestige then all the better.  The only thing that will make me truly happy at this point is getting back on a stage and doing something.

Maybe that's exactly what I need.  To find the stage again and make things happen.  That's the only way I can make things that are real.

Trust: The Final Word

So trust....what can I say?  There is so much about a five letter word that I just don't understand, and I don't think a lot of people do either.  Like to trust someone, its the scariest thing in the world.  To let someone into your mind and your heart and know you....sometimes biblically. You trust someone with yourself....that's scary to me.

And yet, I find myself trusting to fast.  I want someone to know me.  I want people to know my wants and hopes and fears and secrets.  Isn't that why I blog?  I want to trust the world with myself.  But yet we train ourselves to step away.  Like when you know something is going to burn you but it hasn't quite scorched your skin.  You feel the pain that isn't there and you run away.  We retreat so easily.  I feel like my mind has so many things to share with people and I want to trust people with what I can show them, and hope that they will trust me and we can explore each other.  It's a little sexual but it doesn't have to be, does it?

I went on a date today, and got the distinct feeling that he thought I might have been oversharing.  Not that I was creeping him out of some stories of my past, but if you're going to talk about The Great Gatsby and not mention how awesome the costumes were, then maybe I don't need to be talking to you.  I got the feeling that I was instantly labeled weird.  And maybe rightfully so.  I wasn't in the mood to play the recalcitrant and brooding James Dean character.  I wanted to be free loving and bubble and understanding and trusting.  I Even sometimes with my friends they are reluctant to trust or to share.  Then why are we friends?  If you are truly a friend then there is nothing in this world that I wouldn't share with you. 

I don't know maybe I'm weird and lonely.  I just wish sometimes people were more trusting and gave me a reason to trust more.