Sunday, January 30, 2011

Smuckers Love


So, I have this guilty pleasure. It's kind of embarrassing, and I usually don't tell people until I know them really well. I fricken LOVE peanut butter. It's delicious. I've always been extremely particular about my peanut butter, and as a child, I was raised on Peter Pan's Low Sodium Creamy Peanut Butter. But then a dreadful thing happened. It was cancelled! All of a sudden my peanut butter dreams were squashed, and I didn't know where to turn for gooey, satisfying bliss. For years, I stalked the peanut butter isle, trying new brands, jars of sub-par peanut butter sitting unused in my pantry. Peanut butter became a thing of the past, like penny candy or the allure of vanilla wafers. Then, two years ago, I once again took up my abandoned quest with the arrival of a new player in town. It was Smuckers Natural Peanut Butter. Ingredients: peanuts, less than 1% salt. Hello new friend. A peanut butter in which you can actually taste the peanuts. What a revolution. Anyway, here I am today, with my jar of peanut butter that I have mercilessly devoured a significant portion of in the last 24 hours. And let me tell you, it's fantastic!

Thursday, January 27, 2011

Texas Toast




"your going against evolution when you don't eat meat!" My response: "well, evolution is change, correct?" "yes" "By that logic, if you continue to do what your ancestors did, you are resisting change, and therefore, YOU are going against evolution!" Case closed.

I've enjoyed the intelligence of today. I've never really thought of myself as a good debater, I'm relatively relaxed and I can't say I have the same "fiery personality" that both my roommates have. That said, I've been questioned about my convictions, often unduly, for many years of my life, and have formulated quite a library of scientific evidence to back them up. I guess I am addicted to research, in many ways knowledge is my drug of choice. It's strange to think that there was a period of my life where I stopped seeking knowledge at all. I never planned to go to college, and I didn't plan a viable future for myself. How things have changed. One of my life goals is to make a significant contribution to science. I would love to publish a paper with my name in the first line. I guess that's one thing I can confidently and consistently pursue, despite my varied interests, I know that I am not the type who will ever say, "Well, thats enough. I think I've got it now. I'm done." I will always want to know more, a characteristic that applies to people as well. It's frustrating when that information is made inaccessible to me, and it's frustrating when that information is purposefully altered or omitted.
I think my heart belongs more to everyone than it ever will to one particular individual. I care. It is my greatest strength and my fatal flaw. It will never, never change. I need someone who both understands, and appreciates that.

Monday, January 24, 2011

Picture for Today



Hello Mama, Hello Papa.
So here I am tonight, a cold, barefoot Floridian. Smile for the camera, chaching!

A little advice from Carrie Bradshaw "Break-up rule number 1. destroy all photos where he looks sexy, and you look happy."

I always used to say there weren't enough pictures of us. Now there are too many.

I am hopeful for the future. In school, relationships, and career paths. I need to try to stay on top of all these.
I am determined to not let school and my jobs decimate my life this semester. If I am lucky at all, I won't even have a personal life to lose.

Sunday, January 23, 2011

Whedonesque


I love everything Joss Whedon does. Let me reiterate. I love EVERYTHING Joss Whedon does. It's really remarkable how he doesn't have that huge of a fan base, but it's the fan base he does have that keeps most of his shows afloat for as long as they are on air (usually not long.) If these fans are anything like me, they are die hard, say-the-name-Joss-Whedon-and-I'm-there kind of fans. I pretty much want to live in this man's brain kind of fan. There was my adolescence, based solely on the influences of Buffy the Vampire Slayer and her snarky determination to live the life of a normal teenager in the face of supernatural adversity. Oh the parallels between her world and mine. I suppose that was the point. There was Firefly, and then Serenity, brought to my attention through a vagabond group of Missouri college students sleeping on the beach for the summer and surviving on bread and mustard. Of the many memories I took home from that island trip, Joss Whedon persisted. Perhaps it was here that my nerd-ish and somewhat unexpected appreciation for sci fy was born, because after Serenity came Dollhouse. Which brought me through high school and into college. First of all, anyone who consistently casts Nathan Fillion in their series deserves a round of applause, and second, the same string of actors playing dramatically different roles really gives voice to their versatility as well as the writing. But it's not just that. It's that Joss Whedon is a master at combining action, comedy, fiction, reality, and a deeper, darker meaning to everything he does. He has conquered the paradox, and maybe that's why I find him so fascinating. He wrote my favorite quote in the entire world, courtesy of Buffy of course. It may be the only thing I'll ever tattoo myself with, because I have a tendency to write the entire thing on my arm whenever I am feeling sad or broken. It is the deepest truth I can muster when i have no explanation for why what happens, happens.


Passion, it lies in all of us, sleeping... waiting... and though unwanted... unbidden... it will stir... open its jaws and howl. It speaks to us... guides us... passion rules us all, and we obey. What other choice do we have? Passion is the source of our finest moments. The joy of love... the clarity of hatred... and the ecstasy of grief. It hurts sometimes more than we can bear. If we could live without passion maybe we'd know some kind of peace... but we would be hollow... Empty rooms shuttered and dank. Without passion we'd be truly dead.”




Saturday, January 22, 2011

Words, Work, and Wishful Thinking






  • It upset me more than I thought it would.
  • I asked a fortune cookie for help today. It said, "Don't dwell on differences with a loved one. Try to compromise."
  • Word of the day: Plummet.
  • I wanted you to be what I was looking for. I kinda still hope you are.

Wednesday, January 19, 2011

umm


Surprise dinner date. The vegan did well for herself again tonight. I will probably explore all of Decatur this semester, by the looks of things. Classes are good so far, no finals at all either! So maybe I'll be outta here early. To where, that is the question?

Monday, January 17, 2011

Daydreamer







Photos: Cupcakes and Cashmere

Today was very unproductive. I feel as if I am reaching an impasse in every relationship, or pseudo-relationship, that I've been a part of. I feel the need to constantly surround myself with new people, and to start something new so that I forget what hasn't worked out in the past.

Truth time: I like you. A lot. You make me feel beautiful, and you compliment me and you don't talk over me like others do. Furthermore, you seem genuinely honored to be with me, and you enjoy my whimsy and rambling and flighty mindedness, as well as my witty retorts and candidness. I don't feel suppressed by you. In fact, I feel like I could take you anywhere and we'd have a great time together. I like talking to you, I would love to talk for hours
but we never seem to get that chance lately. Was all that really a month ago? You warned me about your tendency to lose contact, perhaps I should have listened. I was distracted by your mouth you know. It has the cutest smile.
I worry that you find me to young for your life's plan of action. That you let the distance be a factor when considering me. It frustrates me that I don't get the chance to know you better, to show you what i can offer. I just don't want to be written off so quickly just yet.
I am a daydreamer, and these daydreams are for you, pictures of what our daydream life is like. I want you to know, I would truly feel lucky to have you. And I would devote myself to endlessly trying to make you happy. It's not naive. It's not deluded. It's not under false pretenses that you have no flaws, nor that a relationship would end in happily ever after. It's just that I want to have a go. Truth.

The Facebook of real life.


Huge. Disappointment. However, 3 new friends. I suppose it was worth it, Django's at midnight. I'm home but I feel the need to keep drinking. I guess things aren't really looking up at the moment, but school is starting...tomorrow, officially, so I should really just keep my mind off of boys and onto school. The rest will figure itself out I guess. I should read. Actually, I should sleep. My legs hurt from dancing.
Wine.

Sunday, January 16, 2011

Melissa





The Falcons lost last night, but I can't say I really noticed...Chelsea and I were too busy dancing to Ke$ha and embarassing ourselves. Somehow, we got to Mag's? My apartment is a mess and I just burned all my tastebuds off from drinking too-hot coffee. Huge pet peeve! Coffee should not be too hot to drink!

So all these pictures remind me of Melissa, who would love Oracle Fox as much as I do! I miss her and our crazy adventures and our like-mindedness.

I have a tendency to get myself into trouble.

Saturday, January 15, 2011

American Spirits





Last night: Awesome. I have to say, I LOVE Kelsey's parents. We went to Leon's, we were not carded, we did get drunk. On cider. For free. Amazing. Best veggieloaf of my life too.
So, I'm an occasional smoker. Lately, due to the avid smoking of my roommate, it's been more occasional than usual. I can't decide how I feel about that. I think I will continue on the course. Long weekend. Awesome.

Friday, January 14, 2011

Social Hour and Nutritional Condemnation


Today is the third snow day we've had in a row. I can't say I haven't enjoyed them, but I'm looking forward to school starting, for the sake of establishing my schedule and work routine. Oh and money. Yea, that would be nice. I have a tendency to spend money as quickly as it comes in, which doesn't bode well for hard times. Generally, however, these days have been filled with socializing and the mixing of various groups of people. Normally, that wouldn't work, but it has been quite enjoyable as we are all cooped up inside. A few of us ventured to The Brickstore Pub the other night, and the rest of the time was actually spent in our apartment, which has become the place to be lately. I like it, other people's presence here makes me feel productive, and it's nice to feel surrounded by friends who want to be around you. It bodes well for the summer when people flock to enjoy the large, accomadating pool by the Tower. Last night was...pro-active.
So I was referred to a nutritionist by my doctor, and today was my first visit. I kind of expected the criticism that was sure to occur, so I was not really surprised that the whole veganism thing didn't go over too well. I really went mainly out of curiosity, and when asked what I was willing to do/change about my diet, I told her straight up I was willing to listen to what she had to say, and we'd see from there. Touche, mon petite tĂȘte de chou. She spoke, I listened. I feel like I've heard it all before. More protein, more fat. Read "The China Study," by T. Colin Campbell, and then we can continue this conversation. Most amusing, however, was that she managed a little stab at my coat. "Is that real?" (you little vegan, you.) "Nope, but it looks it doesn't it." (Thanks for testing my integrity.) There was also a matronly remark about my drinking habits. Strategic lie-by-omission there. One glass of wine my ass. Basically it was a polite clash of ideals and basic beliefs, two people who clearly thought they were both right, and are probably content to remain in disagreement. My conclusion remains that it was a relativly pointless visit.



Monday, January 10, 2011






I have to admit, It's frustrating how little you give me to work with...just when I think I have a grip on your history, and quite a history it is, something reminds me that I barely know you. The more I find out, the less I know. The only person I've ever known like that is, well, me. I guess you've got quite a few more years to fill up with memories than I, and maybe I'm to blame for failing to ask questions I'm not sure I'd like the answers to. I suppose I feel that when you decide that your history, and relationships with other girls, past and current, are my business, then maybe I will have crossed a milestone or something. Until then, excuse me if I monopolize your present and future.
So, here I am, facing another semester. The proverbial phoenix rising from the ashes of the enormous, multifaceted smack-down that has made up the past few months of my life. I'll admit that I am a dreamer, and in each frequent change of course I make with my life, I begin to plan my future. Theoretically, it looks nice.
Dear Georgia, I don't understand your insistence on closing all package stores on Sundays. Don't you realize that there's going to be a snowstorm, and I will be unable to leave the warmth of my apartment, and would like to comfort myself with a glass or two of wine or even a Sam Adams. Blast, you confounded laws.
So January is a funny month for me. Being a June baby, the new year marks the second half of being whatever age I am. So 19, to be honest, I feel as though I've outgrown you. It may be silly but I want a lot of things in my 20's, and it would be nice to finally get there. PhD, marriage, first house, dog, maybe a baby...at this rate I need to meet the love of my life...tomorrow. Oh and traveling. In general seeing the world and living the life of a vagabond for a while. It would be nice to not do those things alone. With any luck I'll end up with someone whose as spontaneous and delightfully whimsical as I.

Sunday, January 9, 2011

A little bit about love






Its snowing like crazy tonight. I can't help but think about you. You'd love this. It reminds me of the afternoon we met up the night after you tried to kill yourself, and I stayed up with you trying to keep you alive. I took you for a ride, to a place you'd never been before, and without saying anything, let you climb over it and explore it. You said thanks, and that you liked it. I thought if I could show you something you'd never known was there, you'd remember that you weren't done exploring this life, and you would try to be alive again. I feel like if I could show you this, you might wake up again. Maybe I'd see a flicker of you, the little drop of my stomach when I think "Oh no...I love you." Part of me prays you'll come back and be healed. Part of me hopes I'll fall desperately in love with someone else who deserves me.

Let's move to California and get a little house with a yard close to the beach, and walk around with our dogs and have parties and jam sessions and socialize with new, amazing people every night.

So I have a tendency to make friends, pretty much everywhere. Its one quality I really like most about myself. Cashiers, homeless men on the corner playing violin, customers, teachers, the kid that sits next to me in class...I like that I have this ability to befriend all types of people and its funny, the collection of characters I've obtained over the years.

What bothers me is that I won't be there to comfort you.

I can't stop thinking about that hair pull thing...nice move. Really.

I'd like to own a cupcake shop.


Truth

I miss you, you are lost, we are lost.

Thursday, January 6, 2011

I'm a product, place me.


I started writing my Africa essay today. I guess its good so far, but it kind of feels like a bit of a sham in that I can use words that make me sound smart to describe my job, like "enteric," and "zoonotic," and a variety of others that spell check tells me are misspelled. Subtle diction and tactful product placement are what keeps the world turning at this point.
So classes are starting next week, and to some extent, I'm looking forward to being busy, but the stress of things really got to me last semester, and I'm afraid it's only going to get more difficult from here on...I'm picking up a filing job because it pays $9 an hour, and I'd like to get paid for modeling by the end of the year. There's that and babysitting, and I'm pretty much out of ideas, and hours in the day for that matter. Expected schedule: 7:30am Wake up, 8:30-10:30 class, 10:45-2ish Lab Work, 3ish to 7 Filing Work, then library or babysitting I guess. I might need to get a planner, although I could never manage those. And all of this really doesn't dissuade me from my desire to get a dog, although I really don't know how I'd manage that. I worry enough about my fish...

Wednesday, January 5, 2011

17 minutes

Just seventeen good minutes, unceremoniously interrupted, and I can't help but feel purposely cheated by the near-hour that followed. And I could have talked to you for days, keeping you up until you fell asleep with that sweet smile that always gives me butterflies. Unfortunate the situation, yes, but never mundane. I wouldn't mind a little privacy, however. Imaginary hotel room scenario inserted here.
Funny how I watched your enthusiasm fall. He's like a having a child sometimes, I know, a desperate need for attention that doesn't quite mask some ulterior intention.
At the moment, I'm reading a book called "The Hawk and the Dove," which is a WWII memoir that details a young man's experiences maturing in Okinawa and Korea in combat and during the occupation at the end of the war. He describes the dissonance that exists between himself and normal life after returning home, the strange contrast between a structured life filled with excitement and emotional suppression, to the pandering whimsy of everyday life. So inconsequential, and left to collapse under the weight of what no man should ever live through. It doesn't make it hard to see why a large portion of today's homeless are war veterans, fallen through the cracks. Can't help but ignite the activist in me.
A cat has nestled itself on my shins. Silent night. Sleep is like the light at the end of the tunnel, but once in I am content to crawl around in the shadows for a while, exploring what my eyes don't see.

Tuesday, January 4, 2011

Sesame



I'm worried that my fish is cold.

Pisces

We are fighting, I don't know what to say. We are fighting, and it bothers me so much I've been lying in bed with my eyes open for the last 2 hours. You are my best friend, I care so much about you even though you say I don't. I know better than to play into your guilt trip, but I can't pretend I don't care, and that I don't feel the empty space where our late night phone call is supposed to be. I love you, I'm sorry its not the way you want me to. I don't want to be the girl that breaks you, and I could never take that risk. You need me too much. And I am a butterfly, a fickle lover at best, and no flower keeps my interest for long. I could never do that to you.

Monday, January 3, 2011

I can't help but have High Hopes

Something is keeping me here. The backseat, cold outside air, permeating my little sanctuary. The only privacy I can find in a season like this and it makes me anxious to return to my little apartment where at the very least I dictated my own comings and goings. Something is keeping me here. Inside is a warm room, warm bed, promising dreams. Dreams haven't been good ones lately. I'm enjoying the way my mind mulls over its issues, bathes these thoughts in the quiet contemplation they deserve. Sleeping used to be my favorite part of the day. Sleeping was a relief, an escape from the day and the life I had built for myself. There goes my life.
The vicious countdown, till I see you again. I wonder if things will have changed. I wish I felt I had something new and exciting to tell you. In fact, I think I have plenty to tell you, like how I'm reading a new book, and how I had the worst soup I've ever tasted today. About my endless string of new years resolutions, and about how I'm trying to find the words to write essays to get out of here. And about how I seem to be destroying one of my most cherished relationships, and how for once in my life I can't find the energy to even entertain the thought of finding all the right words to keep it together. I'm being passive, and it's probably not a good sign. I'm being passive with my life, and it may mean I need a new one. A new focus.
Mostly, I think I need a few words from you, a few laughs, and a few great kisses to start and finish my day. I think we could keep it together, together.

Sunday, January 2, 2011

The Magic of the Morning Text

A good lie is in the details. It answers the question but quickly diverts to a new, semi-related topic, and fills up the empty space with charming confidence and a plethora of minute but crucial specifics. All punctuated with a wide, fleeting smile that says "Trust me, I trust you." I'm a master of the bogus tangent, the convincing air of the open book. I'm not really sure when it all happened, but my tactful dishonesty really arose to keep those who really cared for me at a safe distance. Ignorance is bliss. The disregard I felt for my own life was my little secret. A classic case of teenage invincibility. It's funny how just when I think I can't get much older, time passes and I do. I suppose at this point the truth is that I'm not an open book, but lying just isn't really my style anymore. And frankly, I'm surprised that it might be yours. I know a lot more than I let on. Most of it is unnecessary to mention, as you're just as new to my life as I am to yours. I guess none of it is really my business.

The morning text says you miss me. You're thinking of me. The morning text gives me a reason to get up and into the shower, and then to the coffee pot. Hello, lover. First thought, "If this is decaf I will shoot someone." Good morning, me. I pass on the magic.

Saturday, January 1, 2011

Coming Home

It's always that familiar smell of home that reminds me I've been away, perhaps for too long. Its the photos in the hall, and the characteristic disarray that underestimates the degree of apathetic neglect that occurs here. It's strange to think that this one place holds my entire life history, like layers of rock, fossilized remains of journals, tapes, and words, scribbled on the end of a doodle, a faint emotion I can almost still feel. There is one word that comes to mind for a place like this: residual. It's no longer applicable.
What a strange way to begin the new year. Feeling like I no longer apply.