absurdity

stay, men!
piss 'til?


It should further be recorded that these words are founded on the fact that my computer desktop is the picture to the left, (a red hibiscus) which is the food of the Hindu god Ganesha, a very moving figure indeed and a very fine specimen.

3:30 slump

I could not decide what to do at 3:30 this afternoon. An hour later, I have updated my blog in a way that I think is complimentary to what I wish I were getting out of it more often. Yesterday was such a full day. I wish it could have gone on forever but, of course, it didn't. For what it's worth, I think it may have been one of the more interesting days so far this year, although I've been having an awful lot of those recently. I won't get into details, but I met some super sweet people (also see picture) who played some fantastic music and were generally good company.

I can't really focus on telling you anything more this post, since I'm more concerned with other things....like continuing to update the way I run this blog...maybe even go back and label some of my other posts. I mean, it's mostly just for me, but why not do what I can with what I can.

I wish I knew HTML better....it would be a huge help.

I also wish that putting ideas on paper could happen spontaneously without my investment of time in them.

i of the tyger

eI, again, did not accomplish half of the things I needed to get done. I skipped classes to do them, and instead went back to sleep which was rewarding but not that enlightening. Also, it did not make my space any cleaner.

Now it is 12:40 and if I want to get to my 1:00 class on time ish, which I do, I have to neglect my duties in order to focus on my personal appearance for 20 minutes. It's 4/20 and a Friday. I want as many things about my body to be ridiculous as possible.

Alright, that might be stretching it a little bit.

I wonder how many people read this and think they know me but don't tell me they read it. I only read about four peoples livejournal/blogs religiously, and only snoop onto others when it seems inevitable...in which case I generally don't go back to keep reading them. Mine, however, is linked in my Facebook profile which is an expanding world of anonymity...a place where you, to quote MTV..."think you know but you have no idea."

12:42. My ability to look ridiculous has already been impeded. Must go.

Addition: Upon going back and actually linking, I realized that I only read about 3 people's blogs religiously. The fourth one would be mine which I do actually reread about as often as I post. Well, something like that.

hard to make cents

I always have a hard time pulling the pieces of my life back together when confronted with how insignificant my life is when compared to the enormous spectrum of things...which means, of course, that in my own life nothing is more important than my own life. It's a little confusing and a lot screwed up. The whole world.

I think I may have finally found the correct order to put all of my pieces together. As in, good for the rest of my life way of putting the pieces together. I'm pretty excited.

After I've dwelled on it for a bit, I will share.

loud noises!

The fact that there was a major storm last night that shook my windows and kept me awake did not deter the people working on the house next to me from coming in to work today. On the contrary, they were in to work even earlier and they shouted even more.

One man was even heard to shout, "I will follow you anywhere."

I did realize, though, that if I start listening harder, I may pick up some Spanish by the end of this.

In other news, I was afraid of my dreams last night. They weren't nightmares, so to speak...but I kept waking myself up for fear of knowing what happens next.

Alas.

happy endings

I couldn't really be more pleased with the way today and yesterday went.

Of the 110 things I needed to get done around the house, I think I accomplished like 35, which is a lot. Laundry, watering plants (the inside ones, obviously with all this rain!), dishes, coffee, trash, recycling, kitty, fridge, more kitty, more laundry, and more trash. That's not 35, but believe me when I say that I feel just as productive.

I am feeling alright about Chemistry...which, actually, is better than feeling confident, since I'm sure I will actually pay attention to what I'm doing rather than feeling cocky or whatnot.

I watched a fabulous movie and took a three hour nap instead of stressing out.

I danced a lot and had fun on Saturday with two of my favorites and said some pretty sentimental things to people who will appreciate them.

My only regret is that there are some people that I just can't read. And sometimes I get frustrated because I really, and I mean really, like to know what's going on.

My cat is going insane. I'm going to bed.

senior formal

I am just realizing now that I don't have the time to really get down to what was fantastic about last night. But I had a fabulous, delicious evening and I couldn't have asked for a better total package.

More soon.

Addendum: see the "labels" for what this evening entailed.

printing

I smell like cumin, incense, and indecision.

So, I've been trying to get a firm grasp on whether or not I'm emotionally doing alright right now...part of that process is being able to look back and get a good feel for how I've been expressing myself and whether or not it has been generally healthy. One big problem. Sometime in between the time that I had just gotten back from Japan and now I stopped posting for a good 8 months. During this 8 month period of time, a lot of things happened. I have some journal writings from Europe which I guess I could put up....if I really wanted to search back through them, which might not be a bad idea...but I'm not sure if they're the type of writing that I need to be looking at to figure myself out.

I just want to make sure that I'm moving in the right direction.
It's hardly ever as easy as it seems...

at night

a bath is about
cleaning your body
without getting your hair wet.

Prozac Nation

I think that Prozac Nation was harder to watch than anything else I've ever seen. Harder even than grotesque violence. Harder than really bad B-movies. Harder because the entire time I was seeing the familiar. Those lines weren't just some abstract screenplay that had something to do with someone else. It was my life. Those were my fights with my own mother. That is my life up to this point. I think, somehow, that I'm on the tail end of it...but to watch it...to see it...to recognize again just how close to the very bottom I was and to know that I could be there again...I could cry. All night. I won't. I won't because that's what not being depressed is about. It's about recognizing the difference between reality and theory. In theory I could cry. In theory I could have been devestated by my experiences. In reality, I know that I have to pull myself together and continue functioning. Functioning is what keeps me sane when there is nothing else left. That and keeping myself entertained. I look back on the times that I was a lot closer to crazy...and I guess I am just thankful that even though I didn't always feel supported, there were people around me who didn't give up. If you have ever done that for me or for anyone else...you should know that it's not always easy for someone to recognize how much you've helped them or even to say thank you, but you should know that you changed someone's life. You saved someone's life.

easter away message.

ho tally hey.
sweet. as. jesus.

funny faces

I'm really happy with where things are for me right now. I get scared to be happy though, so I never know how to interpret happiness. I've been feeling pretty heady these days....just a swelling feeling. There's been much more of an organic sort of process going on with my brain recently...I've actually been using it to do things I like. I wish I had gotten the hang of it a few years ago...I would have gotten a whole lot more done. I've been wondering what exactly has been the cause of it...and although I'd like to think it's because somehow I've improved as a person due to my own ability to control certain issues that I've run up against in the past, I'm hesitant to put that much faith in myself. I think more likely it has to do with medication. For anyone who has followed me electronically for a long time, you know that I've had one of those on-again off-again love hate relationships with a lot of medicine....Right now we're long-term off....and I'm happier than I've been in a long time and I'm tempted to chalk it up to that...but there so many other things that I've changed...for instance, not being in any sort of serious romantic relationship....I would really hate to think that single=stable because that would limit my life options a good bit.

I'm about to start a research project into clowns and the circus. When I say "reseach," I mean individual discovery process....Let me know if you're interested....if there's even a "you."

grudges

I hate that I constantly feel the need to smile.
I hate that people can be such idiots sometimes.
I hate that I am one of those people.

Um....today was a good, fully bursting day in which I really accomplished most of what I was supposed to do, did a lot of extra fun things, and felt good about it.

Why don't I feel better, then?

in response to bullshit....

say about me what you will
the only thing you can hurt
is my perception of you.

apprehensions and prehensile utensils

So, lots of things.

Number one: I have always had apprehensions about hanging out with the Meridian kids to the extent that I don't particularly think that I fit in, partially because I don't find myself to be very elitist or pretentious when it comes to music, which from my perspective, seems like a requirement. I mean, I don't meet some of the other criteria either, like being exceptionally environmentally friendly, etc., but it was definitely the music thing that held me back from befriending them for a few years...that and they never would put me on their damn listserv. I swear I signed up like three times.

Point being, I was sitting today under a tree outside of the Muscarelle looking at another tree, tentatively identified as a weeping cherry mini tree, listening to the music on my ipod when a fantastic French rap song came on...and then I realized....sure, I listen to music mostly compulsively, and yeah, I don't know a lot of back stories to a lot of albums, and maybe even my ability to hold a decent conversation about music is fairly impeded by my inability to retain small (though potentially useful) details, like who sang a song originally and who just put out a cover, but I am, at least slightly, pretentious when it comes to music. I listen to a lot of Japanese/French language music, have a reasonably decent beginning of an album collection, and know "good music" when I hear it...or at least I know what I like which, if my taste isn't completely terrible, I would hope is good music. Maybe what has really been "holding me back" is my complete and utter denial of just how pretentious I can actually be. I realized today, "pretty damn pretentious" is the answer. Go figure.

Second: I have REALLY got to stop it with the uncomfortable honesty. It just doesn't go over very well, even with people who know and generally like me. I think I may have frightened my good and mostly darling friend away from me today by being a bit too honest about what goes on inside my head. Granted, I guess it's hard to understand if you've never been there. I used to think that I enjoyed being surrounded by mostly (relatively) stable (though certainly damaged) people because they tend to develop a better environment for me to exist in since it tends to be slightly less chaotic. Sadly, these are also the people who just don't get it when it comes to trying to understand where I'm coming from. I'm aware that it's not really that important for people to understand, but sometimes it's really nice. I'm realizing, though, that when I can't connect with the people around me, I spend a lot of time trying to "dumb down" (although this isn't the appropriate term since attempting to change the way you present your ideas to people oftentimes has very little to do with whether or not you are left with the same intelligent content) what I'm thinking and it often feels like a waste of time. Trading stability for stimulation would be ideal...but it has been making me question what type of life I ideally want which brings me to...

Lastly: What do I want out of life?
I've been frustrated with this question for a while now. I've been unable to come up with a satisfying answer, so I've been stalling--that's what a fifth year is, after all--but I am not feeling any closer to a reasonable answer. I know that I could easily become a professional. I could go to med school or grad school or whatever school, maybe even just get a job, and be just fine. Professionalism is stable. I'd have a crisp, clean, white-collar life in which I would probably be repetitively doing the same or similar things within my career field. On the other hand, I could completely throw it all away and do something absolutely crazy. I could abandon the "safety net" that my parents have so kindly provided for me, but which often makes me feel more confined than safe and seems to be holding me back rather than letting me actually choose for myself what comes next in life.

I say "could" because I don't think I will. I want, desperately, to live the sort of life that I think (probably falsely) is tied more closely to freedom (from a lot of things) than anything I have experienced in my life thus far, but I can't imagine a set of circumstances that would actually place me in the position to make the choice. I am, regrettably, stuck in the system. I would like to think that by some passive act of nature and fate, I may organically be driven to live unencumbered in the woods for a year, but as Jeff reminded me today, a big part of life is actually actively making choices. Most things don't "just happen"...although the jury is still out on whether that statement is "truth" or just one way of looking at things....one personal philosophy versus another....I think, though, that even if I could make the choice....I wouldn't...I'm a little afraid of what might happen.

On the opposite end of the spectrum from professionalism and stability, I imagine a world full of self-reliance and possibly, depending on how I play my cards, a large amount of stimulation. Stimulation tends to, when there's enough of it, drive me a little crazy. I am certain that a world full of stimulation, surprise, and adventure would be more fun than monotony, but I'm terrified of it.

The real question is, what is the next step....now that I've put everything out there and acknowledged it?

friendship is rare

Yesterday was a very rewarding day. I had a lot of positives highlighted with opportune music and some fantastic (I would say) dancing on my part. I hadn't been to a dance party in forever. It was everything I could have ever hoped for.

In other news, I have happened upon someone who is very likely to become my new obsession. At least from what I can tell. I think I'm going to ask this person whether or not they have an apprentice program in which I could participate. I have a lot to learn.

The book has stalled for a while. I wrote a lot about apples but then it kind of faded away...

I'm fading away. Mike Levy reads XCKD too. I really hope the Syndication thing is an April Fool's Joke. Holler.

vertigo...

sitting in this friendly place. in a friendly space.

I've recently been very pulled when I'm here in this box. "In the box." So to speak...the one in my lap. Good, you got. it. With my hands feeling slightly extra enflated like mabye the monster creatures in Naked Lunch...the very beginning stages when you just start to look a little like A Scanner Darkly...off shaded, almost cartoony. But you know that you're on the verge...the very verge of a crack. F. Scott Fitzgerald Crack. It exists, you know. I feel like I'm swallowing the very back of my tongue and there's a liquid running down...except drowing...and I have to open my mouth wide. It's the allergies. They'll say...I should get something.

I'm going to tell you that I've been very torn recently...between the electronic portions of my life and the real live breathing technicolor not 256bpi crazy electronic world. the real real one.

The funny thing though, is that I actually mean the world that exists when me the real live breathing one am working on writing stories on paper....the funny thing is me thinking that in some ways that world...the paper world is inherently better than the electronic world. I'm not sure if you'll get that.

Anyhow. Just wanted to think outloud for a bit. Funny things surround me and I'm about 85% happy with it. I'm going to the paper world now.

naked

I feel today almost as if I have been stripped of my identity. I'm down one best friend. Down my ipod. Down my belief that I'm doing fairly well in school this semester (don't even get me started there). I mean, sure, these things don't make me who I am but they certainly add to what I believe about myself and dedicate my time to. Maybe that's, overall, a sad thing. I mean, your closest friends like you for who you are, so when you lose them, does that mean that you are no longer who you are but someone else? That's kind of how I'm feeling. What sort of monster have I become? Also, whenever I dye my hair it takes at least 2 weeks for all of my old friends to figure out how to recognize me with my new hair color and since this one is particularly ridiculous and drastic, I'm saying it is going to be at least 3 weeks. Hurray for that, I guess.

So, the webcomic I discovered through a post by Emma on Bryan's facebook wall (I hate the Internet) has been comforting. It's great to know that there are people out there who think along similar lines as I do, at least from time to time. It may be true that those people are geniuses and I am not, but that's beside the point. I think this one was my favorite. Especially because it is SO true. Recently, with all the writing, sleeping, reading, etc. I've been doing, I've been having a pretty hard time keeping track of what is "real" and what is "read" and what is "dreamed." All of my realities, because believe me, I invest as much belief into what happens in books and writing as I often do into my own life, have been blurring together. Not to mention the influence that the lack of sleep or use of alcohol has on the jumbling. I dreamed on two consecutive nights about the same incident that has, I'll admit, been bothering me. In the first of the dreams it went as poorly as possible. In the second of the dreams it went as well as possible. When I awoke the second morning I realized that neither event had happened and neither probably would. Still, I was faced with the feeling of closure immediately prior to that realization and REALLY wanted to hold on to it. Maybe that's what dreams do...look to offer us some closure for the things that really never end, change, get better, etc. Closure is important. It's part of moving on, making the ends of my torn heart, mind, body, etc. meet, and finishing the "chapter" or "book," so to speak in order for me to file it away in my mental library without thinking that I need to be doing a little more work on it. I am constantly trying to find closure...maybe if I could invest a little more faith in my dreams, they'd do it for me. Wouldn't that be nice?

Just last night I was talking to a high school friend about the way people come and go in our lives. We both agreed that you never realize what a big part of your life a person is until they're gone. Also, you are unlikely to realize the many ways that one person has come to be involved until you come upon the holes they leave. I hate that part of friendship. I am always really reluctant to make real friends just because of that fact. Once you commit yourself to friendship, you are agreeing to lose a part of yourself forever if that friendship fails. You are agreeing to the possibility that you will become irreparable broken. You are taking the risk of creating a part of your life that will never feel right without the other person still being a part of it. For me, that's the scariest. Sure, the good times "are worth it." But the blackness of losing it is pretty god damned dark and I tend to slip into that darkness just a little too far. I know, in the long run, I am thankful for all of the super close friends I've had. I would say there are fewer than 20 of them, total, throughout the course of my life. I only know where some of them are, so if that factors in, there are probably 10 that I am still going to be in touch with in 5 years (if that many). Even then, if each of them only has a small percentage of me, let's say 1%, that's at least 10% of me that is forever missing. 20% if you recognize that my belief that I'm going to stay in touch with these people is at least slightly biased on the fact that I will want to try...but seem to have a problem with being a good friend in return.

Man, fuck it. I'm not giving up, but I may rethink this whole thing before endeavoring to make any more sudden movements when it comes to the friends I have.

Also, super sweet: I didn't make any spelling errors in this entire rant minus a few slang words. I suck at spelling, generally, but apparently, at least today, I rock at fixing my mistakes without a spellchecker!

anthromorphisms

The above is not a word. I made it up because I couldn't think of a good title. I hate titles. Especially since you always have to write them before you even write anything else and it's like you're trying to sum up everything you're going to say in one word before you've even said any of it yet. That's pretty silly, don't you think?

So, I think I want to change my name but only because I'm in love with this song that has a name in it and I love it so much that I would want that to be my name, but maybe I'll just settle for my daughter having that name if and when I ever have a daughter.

Right now all of my clocks are flashing 12:00. We lost power sometime over break. I wonder, though, how different my life would be if I just left them and never knew what time it was. That's what's great about digital clocks. With the type with hands, analog? I guess, it's always the same time...so I feel like I should be doing the same thing over and over. 6:05? Dinner time. Wait, I just ate, 6:05? But I'm not hungry. Okay, really that never happens but it's still confusing. I would lose track of myself if it weren't for clocks.

So, I was talking to some people tonight about being pretentious about music...and I'm definitely mostly not...but I do listen to a lot of music in foreign languages and even though often I only partially understand it, I wonder if it makes me at least a little bit pretentious. I don't know how I would feel about that if it did. I also just decided that I really wish the word wunder was used more often. I think if I have a new screenname soon, wunder will be in it. Probably not, though, because I can't think of a sweet word to go with it.

Found this awesome collection of cartoons tonight. I wanted to share.

I stayed up way too late looking through all of them. I know which one was my favorite but I looked at it about an hour ago and I don't have the time to find it again. Alas. Sleep.

i like to strike out

My fingers have smelled delicious for the last few days. First like cloves and now like giradelli chocolate from our brownies that are baking in the oven.

But definitely, definitely, not like girls who like to tell stories on other girls that they pretend to like and then stab in the back. Those girls are NOT my type. I do not want to lick them. Now, the male go go dancers who are apparently going to be at dragball? yum.

What can I say, I'm a twenty first century fox with the world wrapped up in a box.
Show me the way to the next little girl....oh, don't ask why.

I love listening to albums because they both set a mood and make me have something to think about when my brain goes numb and I don't know what else makes a good thing to say.

I tell you.