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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.