In defence of narcissism

(I just spent a few minutes distraught over the spelling of the word “defence.”  I actually like the look of “defense” better.  But defense is the American way, and defence is the British and Canadian way.  So I guess I’ll have to stick with that.)

I’m a self-identified narcissist.  I wasn’t always.  No one has actually ever outright told me that I was a narcissist.  A few may have strongly implied it.  My friend asked me why I thought I was narcissistic and I asked “Would a non-narcissistic person post daily selfies of herself?”  Well, would they?  I’d like to know.  It’s more something I joke about than something I’m actually concerned about.  Being too narcissistic is definitely the least of my worries.  It’s not even on my list of worries really.  I use the hashtags #narcissist and #vanity on Instagram whenever I post photos of myself.  I used to actually hate selfies.  Like, really hate them.  I thought they were something that only extremely self-absorbed, narcissistic individuals did.  And then I realized that I am a self-absorbed, narcissistic individual.  And I embraced it full on.

Throughout my life, I’ve always seen things about “learning to love yourself” and “being happy with who you are.”  It’s kind of sad that these are messages that have to be repeated over and over again to such a strong degree, because it implies that a lot of people don’t love themselves and aren’t happy with who they are.  And that’s really sad.  Every person in the world has some degree of insecurity about themselves.  No one is perfect.  I’ll bet even Beyonce has moments when she doesn’t feel absolutely flawless, as shocking as that may sound.  Even the richest and most powerful people in the world must have moments where they wish at least one little thing about them was different.

I feel like the whole idea of loving yourself is embraced by society, but only up to a certain point.  As if you should love yourself, but not love yourself too much.  Because then you’re just seen as selfish and self absorbed.  I don’t mean you should only and always put yourself first and say to hell with everyone else, but you are important.  I don’t think I’ve always been narcissistic.  As I child, I don’t think I was.  I often joke about hating myself and use self deprecating humour whenever I have the chance.  But in order to really pull off self deprecating humour, and to have the ability to laugh at yourself, I think you need and possess a certain degree of self confidence and security.  Otherwise it’s less humorous and more depressing.  I don’t like to boast about my accomplishments and achievements the way some people do.  Maybe I would, if I’d accomplished more in my life.  I also don’t need to post daily selfies.  It’s just something that I do.

I’ve also seen a lot of articles about “learning to do things alone” and “making time for yourself.”  It seems odd to me that these are things that people need to learn how to do.  I’ve always done things by myself and thought nothing of it.  It took a while for me to realize that not everyone feels secure doing things on their own, especially when they are so used to having someone always be there.  Going to a concert alone seems like such a foreign concept to some people.  Like they wouldn’t be caught dead doing so and to do so would somehow be pathetic.  But why?  Why do we feel the need to have someone accompany us to all things all the time?  I’ve been to concerts and other various events by myself and had a great time.  Some people would hate the idea of being alone on a Friday or Saturday night, but sometimes it’s nice to have a night off to yourself to just relax and do whatever you feel like doing or not doing.

One of the main reasons why it’s important to be comfortable with yourself and who you are and make yourself a priority is because you’re stuck with yourself.  Your relationship with yourself is the most secure one in your life.  You can’t take a break from yourself.  You can’t take a night off from yourself.  You are always there.  You are always you.  How awful would life be if you were stuck with a person you didn’t like 24/7?  It would be truly miserable.  Loving and appreciating yourself for who you are, despite your flaws, is essential if you want to get through life and not be unhappy.  This doesn’t mean you have to take selfies, or love the way you look, or shun everyone else.  But as long as whatever you’re doing that makes you happy isn’t hurting anyone, then I say go for it.

I found myself wondering the other day if a person could go to rehab for narcissistic personality.  But I wouldn’t want to go for a cure, I’d just want to go because rehab always sounds fabulous, at least when rich celebrities do it.  Maybe I’m not actually a narcissist.  Do truly narcissistic people even realize that they’re narcissists?  Sometimes you need to be a little self-absorbed, especially if you have health concerns or legitimate reasons that you need to take extra care of yourself.  I think that it’s possible to be narcissistic in a good way, as long as your narcissism isn’t having a negative impact on the people around you, and as long as you are still capable of extending love to others, as well as yourself.

I do realize that today’s society is filled with selfish people and if certain individuals were to think of others instead of themselves for a change, that would do some good.  But in contrast, I also believe there are many people who neglect themselves and don’t put enough focus on embracing who they are.  I think it’s important to strive to achieve a healthy balance of valuing yourself and valuing other people.

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Because this wouldn’t be a post about narcissism if I didn’t include a selfie

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The best purchases ever made at a yard sale

One day in June, I spent a lovely Saturday with my friend. Our day included dim sum, Netflix, shopping, walking, Jenga, the park, slack lining, drinking, and a barbecue. So yeah, it was fun times. I think it may have actually been my first time having dim sum. I’m still amazed that I actually woke up early to go.

I don’t have Netflix. I’m not too cheap to get it, I just don’t feel like it would be worth it for me since I live with my family and have a bunch of stuff on pvr and not enough time to watch it. But I’m glad my friend has Netflix because it means I can get my Archer fix whenever we hang out.

A few of us went to the park that day and hung out. We stocked up on chips and strawberries and one of my friends brought a hula hoop. Except whoever made that hula hoop must have been really sadistic because it had ridges on the inside which made it painful to use. But we did it anyway. She also brought a slackline. Which is pretty much like a low tight rope walk kind of thing but wider. I’m terrible at it. I can barely even stand on the thing, let alone walk across it. A little kid came by and tried it and she rocked it. Because you know, that had to happen to make me feel worse about my inabilities.

We were going to attempt to play the Star Trek Catan game that my friend bought at Fan Expo. But we opened up the box, looked at the rules, tried to make sense of them, and decided this was not the time or the place for it. None of us had ever played Settlers of Catan before either and we kind of wished we had Ben Wyatt there to show us how. We will try eventually. But we just didn’t have the energy or the patience to figure it out at that moment. Instead, we used the box as a base on which to play Jenga. Because park Jenga is the best kind of Jenga. Even if the uneven ground makes the tower slanted. Because you know, we like to play dangerously.

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Jenga in the park

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It’s harder than it looks

The barbecue and the shopping and everything was fun, but one thing about that day really stands out above the rest. While enjoying the sunshine, we noticed earlier in the day that there was a yard sale. So naturally, we decided to go check it out. It would probably be all junk and all the good stuff would be gone by the time we got there because that was just our luck. But we thought we’d give it a shot. It’s not as if we had anything better to do at the time. This was before all the park excitement when we had time to kill before we met up with people.

At the yard sale, there were some random old books and games and records. None of which we wanted to buy. But they also had Star Wars glasses. For a dollar each. They were the kind that you used to get with meals at fast food places. Back when they were classy enough to give you actual glasses. So naturally my friend bought two of them.

But the best was yet to come. They had New Kids on the Block dolls. I didn’t even know they made New Kids On the Block dolls. How awesome is that? These were part of the “hangin loose” collection, where they’re dressed in casual clothes. Apparently there was a whole separate line where they were in concert attire, and you could buy a separate stage to go with it. Sadly, this was like right before my time. I grew up with Backstreet Boys and Nsync. But I still appreciate New Kids on the Block.

Unfortunately, they did not have the whole set. They only had three of them. But Joey, he was special. Because he was still inside an unopened box. That must be worth something right? So Joey came home with my friend that day. They didn’t have Donnie. Or he would have probably come home with her as well.

But yeah. Star Wars glasses and a Joey McIntyre doll. Best purchases ever! And all for just $7. Does my friend know how to shop, or does my friend know how to shop?

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Best purchases ever

Meeting strangers in Vegas

<—–Previous Vegas Post

Bloggers in Sin City, Day 1

Upon my arrival at The Flamingo, I proceeded to spend the remainder of the day meeting more people and drinking.  Because those two things go hand in hand, do they not?  This was probably the first time I have ever hung out with a large group of people, none of whom I knew previously, and actually felt comfortable.  We talked as if we were old friends.  I’m not saying that I wasn’t awkward, because it’s safe to say that I probably definitely was.  But I’m always awkward so that’s nothing new.  I was already friends with a lot of them on Facebook, and some of them recognized me from updating my status all the time everyday.  But since they’re all social media fanatics as well, no one was judging me for it.  A couple people also recognized me as the girl who loved shoes.  Apparently when I posted about Army & Navy, some of them thought I was actually buying army boots at some sort of military store.  I had to clarify and explain what Army & Navy really was.

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Carlo & Charlie’s

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Mango margaritas

It was happy hour at Carlos and Charlie’s when I arrived, so perfect timing.  New friendships were made and margaritas were drank.  Larissa pretended it was Tom‘s birthday so that the waitress with the big boobs would come over and pour shots in his mouth.  And she did.  And it was awesome.

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New friends

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Happy hour

When it was time to check in, I met Megan, who I would be rooming with for the first and last day of our stay.  Being the awesome person that I am, I used my Total Rewards card in order to get ahead in line.  We went back down to Carlos & Charlie’s and had some awesome quesadillas.

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Quesadilla Charlie’s

At one point, we all seemed very depleted and worn out and we weren’t sure why.  We were also all very on edge and upset about the fact that our phones were all dying.  It would appear that when you’re a social media buff and your phone battery is drained, your energy level may also become drained.  The solution?  A phone charging party, naturally.  And so a bunch of us got together in the hotel room to charge our phones, and as we did, we too slowly regained our energy.

My original plan was to go see strippers that night.  Because why would I not go see strippers that night?  But I wasn’t feeling it.  Shocking, I know.  There were only a few people who had originally wanted to go and the strippers we wanted to see were all the way on the opposite side of the strip.  I mean maybe if I had more energy at the time I would have been all for it, but I decided my first night would be better spent wandering around our side of the strip and meeting more awesome new people.  Besides, I had already seen Thunder From Down Under last year in Vegas and again this year in Vancouver.  I’m thinking once a year should be what I aim for.

Instead, a few of us wandered around the strip and walked down to The Venetian where we contemplated taking a gondola ride but decided against it.  We walked past Madame Tusseauds wax museum, where we took pictures with The Rock and Justin Timberlake.  Next time I’m in Vegas, I want to actually go inside and take pictures with all the celebrities.

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The Venetian

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The Rock

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Group shot with JT

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Obviously I needed a solo shot too

We later met up with others at Centre Cut Steakhouse in the Flamingo for martinis and bacon.  Because who doesn’t love martinis and bacon?  Especially when there’s three different kinds of bacon.

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Pomegranate lemon martini

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Trio Bacon Satay

More people showed up as the hours went by.  The group from DC took a limo from the airport, which somehow may have ended up being cheaper than the shuttle I took.  I was jealous.  Eventually I met Kitty and another Megan, who were my other roommates for the night.  I think I ended my night watching TV and eagerly anticipating what the rest of the trip had in store for me.

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Interterminal Issues

<—–Previous Vegas Post

So I’ve decided to sporadically write my posts about Vegas whenever I feel like it, in between posts about various other things.  At this rate, I’ll still be writing them in the winter.  But whatever.  That works for me.  Bloggers in Sin City was just full of so much stuff that I feel like I need to write like ten posts about it at least.

When I arrived at the McCarran International Airport in Las Vegas in May, I was supposed to meet up with Jessica, a fellow blogger who I had never met, because our flights arrived ten minutes apart.  So it made sense that we could just meet up, and make our way to the Flamingo together.  Simple, right?  Or so we thought.

I picked up my luggage at baggage claim 26.  Jessica was at baggage claim 10.  This is where the confusion began, because wherever Jessica was, the numbers only went up to 16.  How was this possible?  I was clearly at baggage claim 26.  Had I entered some magical world like how Harry Potter goes to platform 1 and 3/4?  I didn’t recall having ran through any walls or anything, so that couldn’t be it.

photoAnd that’s when we realized that we were at different terminals.  Curse the Las Vegas airport for being so damn big.  So we brilliantly decided to take the interterminal shuttles to meet each other.  So we both went to the shuttles and got on them.  At the same time.  Going in opposite directions.  It was too late to turn back.  So I believe Jessica simply stayed on her shuttle and took a round trip to meet me back at terminal 1.  Or was it 3?  I don’t even know anymore.  And yes, this was all as confusing as it sounds, possibly more so.

We wandered a bit and eventually had to go ask someone where the hell the hotel shuttles were.  Upon finding them, we patiently waited until it came time to board.  And then patiently waited while it drove oh so very slowly around the strip, proceeding to drop off every other passenger but us.  Not only were we the last to get to our hotel, the driver even stopped to pick up people to take back to the airport before finally dropping us off at The Flamingo.  Actually, she dropped us off a block away from the Flamingo because of “construction” or whatever.  We hoped that this experience would not be indicative of the rest of our time in Vegas.  It was unfortunate that our shuttle ride took so long, but if I was going to have to spend a ridiculous amount of time getting from the airport to the hotel, I’m sure as hell glad that time spent was with Jessica because she made it awesome.

Next Vegas Post—–>

Is there such a thing as blogging depression?

You know how when a person is depressed, they feel lack of motivation and the things that they once enjoyed no longer interest them?  I’ve kind of been feeling that way about blogging.  It used to be easier.  It used to be so effortless.  Now sometimes it just seems like a chore.  A chore that isn’t even necessary really.  And so I keep putting it off.  And no one knows when it will ever get done.

I don’t know why I feel this way.  It’s not what I want.  I do want to gain back that joy that writing once brought me.  I want that excitement I once felt just thinking about it and looking forward to being able to write.  Now and then it does cross my mind, but then I come up with excuses as to why I can’t do it or I don’t have time.  And if I do happen to have a free moment, I fill it with other things.  I’m always out doing something.  And when I do have that rare time at home, I give up and concede that my time would be better spent watching TV.  When the hell has anyone’s time ever been better spent watching TV?

So productivity as far as blogging goes is now at an all time low.  I’m not really sure how to get it back up to a reasonable pace.  And I’m not really even sure what a reasonable pace would be.  But definitely more often and more consistently than I have been lately.  Setting a schedule doesn’t really work for me.  Randomness is how I function best.  Although randomness hasn’t been working for me either as of late.  You know how you tell a lazy person to get up off their ass and go do something?  Would it be the opposite for me?  Like I need to sit my ass back down and stop whatever I’m doing and start writing again?

When a person is depressed, they begin to wonder whether they even matter to anyone and what the point of their life is.  Similarly, I wonder whether this blog even matters to anyone and what the point of it is.  Is there a point?  Although I’ve never actually cared about it having a point.  And I have had a few people ask if I’m still blogging or say that they enjoyed some of my previous entries.  But is that enough to motivate me to continue?  It should be.  But I’m not sure if it is.

Is it ironic that after I went to a blogging conference, I kind of stopped blogging?  Not as a result of it, but coincidentally I suppose.  I always blame time.  I have no time.  I was recently talking to a friend about how I didn’t understand how she had time for everything she does.  And she told me that she doesn’t, she just forces herself to do things.  Which I totally understand.  I used to be like that.  I still am, in many aspects, just not with blogging anymore.  A lot of people would tell me that they didn’t understand how I had the energy to work full time, take classes, volunteer, blog, and still go out as much as I do.  And the truth is I really don’t have the energy.  I’m tired all the time.  But I force myself to still do all the things I want to do.  When something is important to you, you make the time for it.  Right now I’m just wondering how important blogging really is to me.

If you’re a blogger or a writer, I’m sure you understand where I’m coming from.  And it’s not even writer’s block.  Or blogger’s block, or whatever you want to call it.  Because I have ideas.  I haven’t even written properly about Vegas yet.  And you know how important Vegas is to me.  Time remains a key problem for me.  And the lack of motivation stems from me doubting my abilities as a writer.  I feel like I used to be better than this too.  I am better than this.  So why won’t it show in my writing any longer?  I know everyone has self doubt at some point, no matter how good they are.

I think I’m going to try and find the time for this.  Try, being to key word.  Wish me luck.  Or don’t.  Are people actually more likely to accomplish something if someone tells them “Good luck”?  Does that really ever change anything or make a difference at all?  Also this is very small life goal.  Of course I could be putting my time and my efforts into bigger and better things than trying to start writing again.  But whatever, I can choose to focus on this for a moment if I want to.

Well, it would appear that I have now written a blog post.  Kind of wordy one.  And possibly whiny.  Is it whiny?  I can’t actually tell.  I’m hoping it’s not because I hate it when people are whiny.  Does this fact that I just wrote a blog post mean that maybe I’m taking a step towards coming out of my blogging depression?  Only time will tell.