Blue Steele

It's odd how old someone can be and still wonder about who they are exactly. I was trying to figure out "what kind of a person" I am today, as I skipped lunch and sat outside by myself smoking a cigarette. It sounds hilarious; sounds as if I was feeling sorry for myself, sulking in the corner, trying to be noticed. I wasn't. It's thoughts like "what kind of a person am I" that seem so deep at the time and easily deduced; but you end up, sooner or later, realizing that these thoughts don't really matter and have no obvious answer anyway. After this is realized, you find the past thoughts first hilarious (that you took them so seriously at the time) and then rather disheartening and sobering, for an unexplained reason. It's quite odd really.

Anyway, how it all started was I was thinking about how much I loved being outside, just sitting there by myself. I thought about how most people would hate to be by themselves like that--most would find it almost depressing. I understand this thought process, but I don't agree with it. I love those times outside by myself. However, I do not like being by myself at my house. In fact, I will do almost anything to keep from staying at my house by myself (including driving somewhere or going out to eat or to a movie by myself). When it boils down to it, I think I like being around people, but not feeling as though I have to talk to them. Sometimes, I don't want to talk. Sometimes I just want to be a part of a moment and take a snapshot for later-- have something to hold onto. I don't want to forget anything, but just soak it all in. And other times, I want to be in a car full of friends having ugly face competitions and smashing Oreo's in my teeth while driving around town smiling creepily at people. I wonder if that makes me odd.

"There are so many separate selves; no one who writes creatively hasn't felt that." - Jeanette Winterson

Quality Music

I would possibly pay a great deal of money to get my hands on these albums again.

I feel sorry for myself.

Rebel, Rebel. How Could They Know?

My nephews love me. Max was very interested in me brushing my teeth, and I chased him and tickled him endlessly. Scamper and I just took naps on the couch and made faces and crazy voices at each other. I also laid down to play with Scamper and my shirt came up a little bit in the back. I pulled it down, as I knew Max was right there beside me. He reached over and pulled it back up and touched my lower back. I pulled my shirt back down. He did it again twice and then put his hand on my arss. Haha Boys are so different from girls, even as toddlers. It's cute. :) I kinda miss having tons of screaming, smiling babies in the house.

Ok. So I feel like everyone does this. You're sitting in class and, if you're ADHD like me, you're crossing your legs a different way every thirty seconds, tapping on your chair, biting your nails, flicking the underside of your chin, looking at the scratch on the baseboard of the classroom (I wonder how that got there), doing tongue exercise like the "clover," sticking your finger in gum underneath the desk cuz you couldn't keep your hands still. You know, just looking really interested in the material. Giving it your all... You're counting down the minutes til the time you get out--12:15 p.m. It's 12:00. It's 12:07. It's 12:10! Maybe she'll let us out early! 12:12... Nope... 12:14. GETTING EXTREMELY ANCY!

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!12:15!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

At this point, you stop paying attention. You think something along the lines of I paid for classes from 11:00 to 12:15. NOT 12:16. You close your notebook, breathe loudly as you lean as far back in your chair as you can, looking around, as if the teacher will see you and apologetically tell all of you that you can leave and not have class the following week because of her failure to keep to schedule. I mean, you could have a class like right after, you know?!... I did all of this today. I closed my notebook, bitch! Nothing you say is important anymore. Your time is up! That's all fine and good until the professor looks you dead in the eye and stops talking to the class, just staring first you down and then your rebelliously closed notebook. I stared her back down... for about one second. And then looked away, acting like I hadn't noticed that we were playing "Don't Break" after all. She won. I shrunk back and pretended to be interested in her boring lecture. I wasn't going to open up my notebook though. Oh no. I'll pretend to be interested, but I'm not writing a f*%(ing word down. Not ONE word. You know, if you want to feel special lady, I'll pay you attention, but what you say holds no importance in my lofty mind now. It's after 12:15, after all... Dang it, I should probably right that down.... Nah. Oh, God, now I HAVE to write THAT down. And so you're beat. You open up your notebook, feeling utterly defeated. You're hoping she doesn't notice, and she never really acts like she does. But you feel conquered. ...So you just write what she's saying REALLY sloppy and fast (also as loud as possible) all over the page so she knows you don't care. Nevermind the fact that you probably won't be able to read those notes when it comes time to study. You've proven your point..... Whatever it was.

Rawr

Cranky Chelsea.

I need a Cadbury egg.

Bleep Blap Blup

Ughhhhhh... Simply put, screw the man. TGIF. I won't remember this week in a month anyway so there's no need to stress about it.

I WILL however scream as loud and blood curdlingly as I can when I get in my car. Just for the fun of it.

I also took the bathtub pics yesterday, referenced in THIS POST! I tried to take just classy, clothed pictures, but I found out that it would be much better if someone else took them. I ended up ripping my shirt-- soaking wet clothes don't take too well to repeatedly being layered differently. Also, most of the pictures either look suggestive or emo, neither of which I was going for. Alas. :( Maybe one day I'll post the two that didn't look like a twelve year old suicidal girl trying to be sexy. There really may be a couple to work with.

For your reading entertainment - three sneaky animals.



This last one was more bitey than sneaky. My bad.

So I noticed something odd last night. I was pulling onto a friend's street when my radio's volume suddenly turned up. At the time, I noted that it was slightly odd, but figured that I may have bumped the volume knob while I was turning the car. I put the incident out of my mind.

Today, I was pulling into the parking garage at work listening to instrumental music on the radio. I noticed it again. The music got extremely loud very quickly; I looked at the radio as I reached towards the knob to turn it down. The screen on the radio said that the volume was actually changing. It looked as if someone was turning the knob back and forth very quickly. I grabbed the knob, turned it down and then just kinda stared at it.

It kind of scared me. :( It may have been a short somewhere in the system (as if my car is above that), but it scared me just the same. It's notable when strange things happen; but if you see them happening, it's even more odd. Needless to say, I think my car is haunted.
And lastly, my dad let me borrow THE DAVID BOWIE album I have wanted for so long. I am prepared for face painting and slightly disturbing apparel tonight.

Untitled

I wish the term "hipster" had never been invented because the photos that I like end up being sent through instagram and looking like a Tumblr viral post. Wah.

One feels deeper than they let on. I don't think of it as being lukewarm. Maybe acting lukewarm, but not being lukewarm. I think of it as being probably naturally guarded, balancing multiple things at once, protecting every emotion (in oneself but more in others) that one possibly can. It is always admirable. I understand all of this. But so much of me wants to be completely IN whatever particular moment I am in. If I feel something I want to say it! If one feels something, I want them to feel free to say it! Maybe that's the rebel in me? Maybe the only reason I think that way is because I know it's not what you're supposed to do. You're supposed to be responsible. You're supposed to do "the right thing." You're supposed to "guard your heart." You're supposed to "allow space." You're supposed to "play the game." "Leave people wanting more." "Focus on the big picture." That list of rules just keeps going. It's like a scroll of scribble scratch that just keeps rolling down a hallway. The thing is, I really, really hate reading. And I'd much rather step all over the scroll with someone to entertain ourselves and hear it crunch than read all of it or even tip toe around it. It's not for the sake of breaking rules themselves; it's because I want to feel what I feel. The only thing sadder than not being able to have what you want is not even being able to at least hold it. It's like a kid that goes over to a friend's house and the friend has this awesome toy. Obviously the friend won't give the kid his toy. But, the friend will allow the kid to at least play with it while he's there-- spend time with it, hold it, in the eyes of Toy Story-- let it feel as though the toy and the child can make the most of their time together. And the kid may leave at the end of the day, but at least he'll have the great memories of that really great toy and what fun they had instead of the memories of simply watching it on the shelf. I understand that I don't know how life will work out, and that there are certain rules I MUST abide by. I'm fine with this. But I want to live along the way... I feel like maybe I'm the only one in the world that thinks like this. Damn INFJ's. I am not thinking of fairy tales and happily ever afters. I'm not being creepy. I'm not even really thinking about titles-- I try to push that option from my head. I just think that the here and now is all there is to own. And there is nothing shameful in giving it your all... Maybe I am just far too free-spirited for my own good. Really, I just want to hang out with you-- be real. This is so frustrating. :(

Alfred, Lord Tennyson got it. In fact... that entire last paragraph is actually part of his epic poem "In Memoriam."... Yep. You're welcome. He's not as dramatic and heavy as he sounds; at least not all of the time. He just has a knack for making everything epic, I suppose. Probably a fool. I hope not. Or if he is, maybe there's such a thing as a foolish, epic, great ending.

To lighten the mood, I have prepared a short list of excerpts from my day.

1) Casual Friday is simply an excuse for me to look as nasty as possible while still wearing somewhat business-y attire. My trousers look as if I stole them from my 300 pound imaginary boyfriend. They're supposed to appear to be men's pants. However, I wear them as low on my hips as possible because I always have worn them this way. (That's the fun part about wearing men's pants, right? They're much too big, but they just hang on to your hips; each step you take, they look up at you smirking, threatening to throw themselves on the ground. They are much like a naughty child.) Therefore the crotchal region of the trousers hangs much further that it ought, while the pants I'm wearing UNDER those pants (because it's SO FRICKING COLD) peek out the top. Good Lord. I think I do this kind of thing to see what I can get away with more than it is that's what I wanted to wear in the morning. Mismatch Homeless Casual Friday.

2) I caught a co-worker's eye today when I woke up from my parking lot nap to them returning in their car to their spot next to me. She gave me this understanding look, almost a pitying look. She knows me- she's seent me- napping in my car. I distinctly remember, while napping, sticking one, lone newly-moccasined foot out of the window to nap. Moccasinned AND sock-ed. :( I wish I'd just stuck my tongue out and played with my belly button too. Gross! I really don't play with my belly button. In fact, innie's disgust me. No way. No way. Get real.

3) I walked around a corner and came SO CLOSE to walking INTO a pregnant woman's stomach today. Yeah, I looked at it as it was happening. This fleshy orb of precious road block.

So many disgusting things in this post. I apologize. The upside is that I will never lose my freckles and red is my favorite color. THE END.

Loaded Dice

Lately, I've been thinking of two things that have been one and the same-- epic sounding quotes that seem potentially cheesy and silly analogies that actually ring out a sobering truth.

They are always regarding gambling, which is silly since I know nothing of it.

Teacup Finger Singer

I'm waist deep in midterms, and all I really want is to throw up from so much Thanksgiving food... Smooth transition.

I had decided a couple of months ago that I want to start making soups for myself this fall/winter. They taste just as good warmed up, can stay fresh in the refrigerator for a while AND they're the perfect warm meal for the cold months. Henceforth, (this is what school does to me-- turns me into an old English orator) I looked up recipes today, but was sadly disappointed to find that all of them required kale (which looks like seaweed), cauliflower (which looks like a medical experiment gone wrong) or kuskus... kuuzkuuz?....kusskuss? Whatever. What if I am a normal person that doesn't have a farm in my back yard and go deep sea fishing for natural vitamin-enriched ingredients and garnishes? What if I don't even eat the garnishes in the first place? :( I just want, like, spicy potato soup and some Mexican bidness, o que? Is that so much to ask?

I WANT ALL OF THESE SHOES!!! Mainly, the ones on the left. Button shoes! I found three pairs of incredible boots the other day. Well, really two pairs because one pair was too small, and the other pair was one shoe each from two different pairs. Aww, rats.

The most awesome book I've ever had the privilege of adding to my vast assortment of past reading materials -- Tikki Tikki Tembo No Sarimbo Cherry Berry Rippip Pip Perry Pembo.

And lastly, ooooooooo, girl!..... This picture reminds me of my what my mom looks like when she sings. There. I said it. The Mom Impression. She's got it. Oh baby. She's got it.

Window Office

So I think I just got addicted to pinterest.com. *embarrassing

A work update-- I have an office with a window, as of today. Moving up the workforce ladder! Be proud. I keep looking out of it and kinda smirking to myself, embarrassed that I am actually proud of having a window. What can ya do? I am facing the Hilton and Capital One building, as well as that octagon-shaped building. Isss nice. I'll embrace it.

Random Thought for the Day: I wonder if I'm the only one that reads in a British accent.

I really, really like this picture for some reason. I want to paint it. I think I'm going to try, for the first time in a couple of years. Maybe I will be somehow AWESOME all of a sudden. It could happen.

Also, my friends, LANCE SHIPP and ANDREW LINTON, are coming in town tonight with their bandmate's from Baton Rouge. Good times will be had with the Pants and friends. Shlancey Pants. The Shippling. I am beside myself, if everything but literally.

Release

I finally got it off my chest. I typed four pages of a story I haven't allowed myself to think about in over a year. Finally.... Closure. Finally, a peace. Finally, I can think about it and not push parts of it into the most distant corner of my brain. It was all to protect whatever emotions I had left on it. For so long, I thought that if I forced myself to never think about it, that one day I would wake up and it would not hurt at all anymore. This thought process could also be translated as "running from one's problems." I'm sure it was a bit of both. But all of this was addressed. All of it. And it feels so much better.

That Time Again

I need change. I need a road trip. I need to chop all of my hair off again. Or dye it. I need a new job. A self-inflicted stick+poke. My keyboard at my house. Something. I think, for now, I'm going to buy new yarn, in a less barf color that what I own, as well as bigger needles and start anew on my scarf. That, I feel, is the least drastic of my ideas, which is probably good for me. About two to three times a year, I have to do something crazy on a whim. This time, for my hair's sake, I'll try to start small, but I'm sure I will be discontent until it's an actual change. In fact, denying it for now may make it worse in the long run. I never wait- it's just I have little moneys, which keeps me from doing what I'd like to do, for the most part.

This is a small project. While this scarf is being made, I’ve got another plan to look forward to, in case I get too ancy in the meantime.

I just like having things to look forward to and be excited about. And things right now seem a bit stagnant.