i hate working late in the evening until night. I feel like it's such a waste of my day prior to my shift. Too limited to what i can do.
So, i've spent the morning learning how to manuver around the complications of texting with a touch screen phone. S'very difficult for me.
Now, i'm downloading vag rock in hopes to be emotionally sedated by the angry female vocals and relationship-hatred.
Uhhh, i'll let you know how it turns out.
Early 90's riot grrrl is sorta new found for me in my embrace to my feminity.
I feel like wearing light denimn straight legs with a white t-shirt under plaid long-sleeved and converse high tops.
Sigh, still far too long before work. :/
Thursday, May 27, 2010
deaf or blind? pft.
Normally, i'll put my iPod on shuffle in hopes that, that miraculous thing will happen where the exact song i need to hear comes on exactly when i need to hear it.
This happens to me quite often but never enough it seems.
Tonight, however, complete success in a most grateful way! See my other blog for details.
I can't help this, through generations (on both sides of the fam fam) of guitar players, pianist and druken singers; the music gene hit me hard. I'd surely die if i didn't have music. It's the only thing (other than writing) that has ever made complete sense in my life and that i've been consistent with my feelings for. A much-coveted goal for me.
I wish everyone could feel this way about something. I know that when i'm at the bottom of my darkest feelings, i always have music and it's never failed me. It kicks my confidence up and it bandaids all of my emotional wounds in ways that i'll never be able to explain with words.
Music accentuates all of my good qualities and i feel very strongly that without music, i'd probably be a shitty person. Not because it's a battle but because music is what humbles me and comforts me when i feel guilty or angry.
I will never be able to fully explain it's meaning in my life but i'll long-wind the hell out of you trying to.
The cheesiest thing i ever told anyone was this: "I bleed music notes".
How terrible is that?
Good lord, i'm such a nerd.
This happens to me quite often but never enough it seems.
Tonight, however, complete success in a most grateful way! See my other blog for details.
I can't help this, through generations (on both sides of the fam fam) of guitar players, pianist and druken singers; the music gene hit me hard. I'd surely die if i didn't have music. It's the only thing (other than writing) that has ever made complete sense in my life and that i've been consistent with my feelings for. A much-coveted goal for me.
I wish everyone could feel this way about something. I know that when i'm at the bottom of my darkest feelings, i always have music and it's never failed me. It kicks my confidence up and it bandaids all of my emotional wounds in ways that i'll never be able to explain with words.
Music accentuates all of my good qualities and i feel very strongly that without music, i'd probably be a shitty person. Not because it's a battle but because music is what humbles me and comforts me when i feel guilty or angry.
I will never be able to fully explain it's meaning in my life but i'll long-wind the hell out of you trying to.
The cheesiest thing i ever told anyone was this: "I bleed music notes".
How terrible is that?
Good lord, i'm such a nerd.
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
i'm not much but i've got "jazz"
A theraputic hole-in-your-confidence remedy for those who forget their self-value sometimes. Because i think it happens to the very best of you all and i'm not a whole hell of a lot but, i am someone and, i know exactly who i am and exactly who i want to be.
I picked up my journal and wrote down everything i liked about myself and re-read it again and again until i understood what each individual thing truly meant in my life. A firm believer that even the bad qualities of a person are to be loved as it completes them, i think sometimes we have to only think about the good qualities.
The bad qualities may enhance the goodness of the positive ones but, sometimes you just need the brighter colors.
It's a quick fix that doesn't take long and leaves a bit of an impression on you. AND, it's available whenever you need it.
Or, if you're a female, you can just listen to some vag rock and call it a day. That always works.
I picked up my journal and wrote down everything i liked about myself and re-read it again and again until i understood what each individual thing truly meant in my life. A firm believer that even the bad qualities of a person are to be loved as it completes them, i think sometimes we have to only think about the good qualities.
The bad qualities may enhance the goodness of the positive ones but, sometimes you just need the brighter colors.
It's a quick fix that doesn't take long and leaves a bit of an impression on you. AND, it's available whenever you need it.
Or, if you're a female, you can just listen to some vag rock and call it a day. That always works.
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
truth by mistake
In a crazy flurry of words last night, i allowed my pen to blaze across the pages of my own, personal journal. After reading the words formed from my emotional throw up, i realize that my biggest problem really IS my biggest problem. I'm not insecure about who i am, i'm not insecure about what makes me different from eveyrone else, i'm not insecure about the things i truly love; mostly modest. What i'm insecure about is the fact that i never say the things that i should. That i never say the things that i feel. And when i do, i'm unappreciated for them. Not by all persons but, by one in particular.
In a painful, truly crazy emotional state, i wrote:
"I'm spilling my guts on paper and no one sees.
NO ONE.
Why can't i spill my guts in the air?"
It's like really bad indie lyrics but, i understand it exactly, of course i do, i wrote the words.
So what's my problem?
We only live once, right? What the fuck am i doing? What exactly am i hiding from? My words are the things i have that truly define me. I can arrange them and make them whatever i want them to be. Not only that, why am i so afraid of my emotions? Isn't that what makes us truly unique in this universe?
I'm tired of being so frightened. I'm ready to be more than this. Because i am more than this.
In a painful, truly crazy emotional state, i wrote:
"I'm spilling my guts on paper and no one sees.
NO ONE.
Why can't i spill my guts in the air?"
It's like really bad indie lyrics but, i understand it exactly, of course i do, i wrote the words.
So what's my problem?
We only live once, right? What the fuck am i doing? What exactly am i hiding from? My words are the things i have that truly define me. I can arrange them and make them whatever i want them to be. Not only that, why am i so afraid of my emotions? Isn't that what makes us truly unique in this universe?
I'm tired of being so frightened. I'm ready to be more than this. Because i am more than this.
The fact is, i'm entirely crazy.
I am a crazy female.
Fortunately, i know who i am and who i want to be.
Unfortunately, i feel i'm nowhere close to becoming the person i see myself growing in to. Not that i'm worried about not becoming her but, you know, when?
I guess it's that mid-20's crisis that seems to ring a familiar bell but, you rarely hear about it.
I wish it was as simple as that God damned Cinderella. Where the fuck is my Fairy Godmother? Pft.
In the mean time, i have music and writing and that keeps me content. It hit me a few months back after buying a Jean-Paul Satre book, that i'm in complete control of whoever i want to be. And it later came to me that the only restaints are mental assuming you have no physical setbacks.
I write about that alot, perhaps not here but in my own, personal journal.
It seems vital to repeat that so when i go back through and read the uncharming things that i encounter in my mental battles, i remember that it's all up to me.
No one can have the best of me.
And so, i end this with;
"No one can make you feel inferior without your consent." --Eleanor Roosevelt
Fortunately, i know who i am and who i want to be.
Unfortunately, i feel i'm nowhere close to becoming the person i see myself growing in to. Not that i'm worried about not becoming her but, you know, when?
I guess it's that mid-20's crisis that seems to ring a familiar bell but, you rarely hear about it.
I wish it was as simple as that God damned Cinderella. Where the fuck is my Fairy Godmother? Pft.
In the mean time, i have music and writing and that keeps me content. It hit me a few months back after buying a Jean-Paul Satre book, that i'm in complete control of whoever i want to be. And it later came to me that the only restaints are mental assuming you have no physical setbacks.
I write about that alot, perhaps not here but in my own, personal journal.
It seems vital to repeat that so when i go back through and read the uncharming things that i encounter in my mental battles, i remember that it's all up to me.
No one can have the best of me.
And so, i end this with;
"No one can make you feel inferior without your consent." --Eleanor Roosevelt
Monday, May 24, 2010
The Gloriousness of Cellphones
What ever did we do before we had camera's on our cellphones? Nevermind digital cameras, the fact that you can disguise your picture taking addiction of epically white trash moments like these with your cellphone is unbeatable.
I call this picture, "Look everyone, it's Oprah!"
(click to enlarge)
Very rarely do i eat fast food, especially the notorious McDonalds but, my dear friend talked me into warm cookies and then, BAM! The white trash express rolled it's glorious wheels right across my path.
Don't ever dare tell me that fast food chains do not target people that would drive a stretch limo through a $4 burger drive-thru.
I have pictures to prove it.
I call this picture, "Look everyone, it's Oprah!"
(click to enlarge)
Very rarely do i eat fast food, especially the notorious McDonalds but, my dear friend talked me into warm cookies and then, BAM! The white trash express rolled it's glorious wheels right across my path.
Don't ever dare tell me that fast food chains do not target people that would drive a stretch limo through a $4 burger drive-thru.
I have pictures to prove it.
You! Shut Your Mouth!
There are few people i truly admire. There are many i respect but, few that i actually, genuinely admire.
Off hand, i can think of 4.
Like a picky gardner, i am.
The one person that truly humbles the pit of my tummy was this woman i worked with at the dreaded Home Depot job a few years back. She was absolutely amazing. She worked two full-time jobs, lost her mom to cancer, her grandmother passed, her sister died (can't recall the cause) and, her brother was a failed suicide; all within a 6 month period. But, every day that she came to work, she came smiling, friendly and, incredibly positive and upbeat.
I asked her once how she did it and she looked me straight in the eyes and said, "only Jesus can put me down". She didn't want pity, she didn't ask for anyone's advice, she didn't even mention it. And, i adored her because it wasn't a situation where you thought, "my problems ain't no thang", it was a situation where you looked at her and wanted to value yourself as much as she valued herself above things that you can't change.
Even as an athiest, her words made me tear up because she truly put herself above life's bullshit and kept her head above water. I've never been that inspired by anyone to stop bitching about my plight. Even now, i still think of her when i'm depressed and channel all of the energy it takes to be in a shitty mood in to my music (equivilant to jesus for moi).
I owe her so much more than a silly blog.
Off hand, i can think of 4.
Like a picky gardner, i am.
The one person that truly humbles the pit of my tummy was this woman i worked with at the dreaded Home Depot job a few years back. She was absolutely amazing. She worked two full-time jobs, lost her mom to cancer, her grandmother passed, her sister died (can't recall the cause) and, her brother was a failed suicide; all within a 6 month period. But, every day that she came to work, she came smiling, friendly and, incredibly positive and upbeat.
I asked her once how she did it and she looked me straight in the eyes and said, "only Jesus can put me down". She didn't want pity, she didn't ask for anyone's advice, she didn't even mention it. And, i adored her because it wasn't a situation where you thought, "my problems ain't no thang", it was a situation where you looked at her and wanted to value yourself as much as she valued herself above things that you can't change.
Even as an athiest, her words made me tear up because she truly put herself above life's bullshit and kept her head above water. I've never been that inspired by anyone to stop bitching about my plight. Even now, i still think of her when i'm depressed and channel all of the energy it takes to be in a shitty mood in to my music (equivilant to jesus for moi).
I owe her so much more than a silly blog.
Thoughts that hover above my Rasin Bran Cereal and Figi Bottle
I woke up with my head feeling like someone squeezed a, "feel shitty today" suppository up my ass.
I've found, generally (before i just jinxed it) that when i wake up feeling shitty, my day magically turns in to hyper bliss.
Other than that, eh. Probably just need some postitive interaction?
I can't help but keep wondering when the hell i'm going to snap out of this. Hopefully soon, the dregs of my boredom are gray and cold and mentally defeating.
I wish i could just curl up today and read Moby Dick, that would make me feel all fuzzy and gooey inside.
Ah well, oooooh the pains of growing up!
I've found, generally (before i just jinxed it) that when i wake up feeling shitty, my day magically turns in to hyper bliss.
Other than that, eh. Probably just need some postitive interaction?
I can't help but keep wondering when the hell i'm going to snap out of this. Hopefully soon, the dregs of my boredom are gray and cold and mentally defeating.
I wish i could just curl up today and read Moby Dick, that would make me feel all fuzzy and gooey inside.
Ah well, oooooh the pains of growing up!
"Caught in the act of not being awesome"
Soooo, i've decided that i will post no more stupid, lovesick entries here, they will all be in "The Undertow", where they should have been the entire time.
Not that anyone actually reads this riff raff but, just incase you are, you no longer have to read about my emotional state... in my relationship at least.
Like a breath of fresh air or something cliche like that.
Enjoy the clean slate..ish.
So now, a place to be me, entirely, without the static.
Gosh golly.
Not that anyone actually reads this riff raff but, just incase you are, you no longer have to read about my emotional state... in my relationship at least.
Like a breath of fresh air or something cliche like that.
Enjoy the clean slate..ish.
So now, a place to be me, entirely, without the static.
Gosh golly.
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