So today a friend suggested (in a really nice way mind you) that I shouldn't take things so seriously.
HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA *cries*
I know. I wish that person could see how much I write about hating that I over-think over-analyze and let things build up. or my personal love affair with control. The only problem is...I really like that like one person I know knows this thing even exists.
The problem with all of your friends being able to read your blog is the idea that you slowly begin to seriously censor yourself because you don't want to offend anyone or hurt anyone's feelings, because if you do you're bound to get some argumentative comments from your friends that disagree.
I'm struggling to be different than my dad. I come from a family that flips out if a drink is spilled. I wish I didn't beat myself up about things--really I do. Do you know what it's like to be unable to sleep at night because you cannot stop thinking? And it's stuff that by all rights I shouldn't be thinking about! Grades, the past, my appearance, if I remembered to do some tiny thing at work that day and what would happen if I hadn't... EVERYTHING. If I could stop it right away I would. I am trying. I wish people could understand that I don't try to create drama and I don't enjoy being like this.
I care too much about what people think too.
When I finally get to sleep, when I'm with my girls, or when I'm taking pictures are the few times I can stop thinking for just a little while. I cling to these.
AND HERE I AM TAKING WHAT MY FRIEND SAID TOO SERIOUSLY. WHOO!
monotonous! arghh
Wednesday, June 27, 2007
Tuesday, June 26, 2007
Slow Dancing in a Burning Room
What a wonderful weekend it was!
I had the privilege of seeing John Mayer in concert for the second time in my life. I was much further from the stage this time, but I must say I enjoyed it more. Sitting on a lawn chilling out with people and being comfortable to dance if you want to or even lay down is muuuuuch better than being extremely close to the performer, but getting closer every minute because people are pushing you toward them.
People want to give me their idea that John Mayer is some bubble gum pop prick that plays music for the masses. I only agree with one part of that- he plays his heart out for the masses. Forget the singles you've heard John Mayer sing on the radio, the so-called hits. He's actually one of the best guitar players alive today. People ask him to play as a guest on their albums all the time. He's grown in his new album; he plays jazz and blues music about heart ache and being human. He tells it like it is. He writes the kind of music that makes people feel alive. Now that I have done a little plug for him, he should send me money.
He played an acoustic version of Slow Dancing in a Burning Room for his encore Friday night; I just about died where I stood. That song is SO GOOD.
Do you ever get that invincible feeling after attending a concert? Anything could happen to you, but you wouldn't waiver or crumble. It's like magic.
Depending on the performance and atmosphere, the amount of time that feeling lingers varies. Festivals, like Austin City Limits really pump up that feeling indescribably. When I'm at a concert (especially an outdoor one), there is a moment when I feel like 'this is exactly how life should be'. The summer air, the smells, the people and the laughter, and the music. I wish I could feel that way all the time.
I had the privilege of seeing John Mayer in concert for the second time in my life. I was much further from the stage this time, but I must say I enjoyed it more. Sitting on a lawn chilling out with people and being comfortable to dance if you want to or even lay down is muuuuuch better than being extremely close to the performer, but getting closer every minute because people are pushing you toward them.
People want to give me their idea that John Mayer is some bubble gum pop prick that plays music for the masses. I only agree with one part of that- he plays his heart out for the masses. Forget the singles you've heard John Mayer sing on the radio, the so-called hits. He's actually one of the best guitar players alive today. People ask him to play as a guest on their albums all the time. He's grown in his new album; he plays jazz and blues music about heart ache and being human. He tells it like it is. He writes the kind of music that makes people feel alive. Now that I have done a little plug for him, he should send me money.
He played an acoustic version of Slow Dancing in a Burning Room for his encore Friday night; I just about died where I stood. That song is SO GOOD.
Do you ever get that invincible feeling after attending a concert? Anything could happen to you, but you wouldn't waiver or crumble. It's like magic.
Depending on the performance and atmosphere, the amount of time that feeling lingers varies. Festivals, like Austin City Limits really pump up that feeling indescribably. When I'm at a concert (especially an outdoor one), there is a moment when I feel like 'this is exactly how life should be'. The summer air, the smells, the people and the laughter, and the music. I wish I could feel that way all the time.
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
The Sweetest Way to Die
Another blogger I've been scanning through made an interesting assertion about a specific personality type that I wanted to quote and remember. This describes a friend of mine perfectly, and no matter how much I love this person-- they still fall into this category:
But of course, these self-made assholes are putting on the biggest show of all, trying to pretend like they're even bigger douche bags than they are in the hopes that controversy leads to interest, then to affection and admiration.
They soon realize that bastards with hearts of gold who are discovered and nurtured only exist in the movies, and they die alone, having never finished their book that is "better than 80% of the shit they publish these days."
Monday, June 18, 2007
Who Are You?
I really wanna know...
When I was visiting my friend M, we wandered into a ceramic shop and decided to paint our own pieces spur of the moment.
This is the finished product M brought home to me this weekend. The photos don't do it justice. It's a deep red mug and the tree is black. I am in love with this mug.
I painted it because I wanted to have a new coffee mug for the new apartment in the fall--hence the school appropriate red and black.
The girls and I are going with a red and black theme for our kitchen and living room in the fall as well--it's just easier for us all to agree upon.
I didn't go in to work today; I took one more day to rest my mouth up from having the wisdom teeth removed. It sure was nice. This also means I only have to work 3 days this week. I'm not complaining.
I wish I were a tree sometimes...
Friday, June 15, 2007
You shut your mouth when you're talking to me
A few hours ago I had my wisdom teeth removed. Why they hell would we as humans be equipped with teeth if they weren't needed? I don't care about the cavemen and what they needed. Having them removed was the most painful procedure I've experienced so far physically. All he did was numb my mouth and then jerk them out. not. even. kidding. The bottom left one was the only one that hadn't come out from beneath the gums. I think the roots of that sucker originated at my feet. I think I silently cried the entire time. Fuck dentists. The man wasn't even nice. His assistant was kind and tried to calm me down, but what the hell happened to hospitality?
I now officially:
hate soup
hate teeth
love vicodin
I now officially:
hate soup
hate teeth
love vicodin
Wednesday, June 13, 2007
Now's the Right Time
for a good song, get something to say what I can't.
Trees have always been a favorite symbol for me. I love the way the base begins and the way the branches spread and reach and curl toward the sky. I love the way the sun shines through the bare branches at dusk in late fall, and the way the blue sky peeks through the cracks between the leaves in the summer. I find myself constantly getting shots of trees, and when I draw or paint, the contour, and the wild curved lines just do something to me. Even the spidery shadows they create amaze me. Trees are some of the most beautiful things to grace this earth. Their beauty has no seasonal boundary. They thrive when other things perish, they're the source of so many materials and elements, stories, and memories for people all over the world. I hope this fancinating love affair I am having with trees lasts.
Something I've learned to accept about myself: I lose things easily. I'll have something in my hand or put something somewhere I think is a safe place to find it when it becomes necessary, and then I'll forget. And sure this happens to everyone but when I lose something, I freak out. Imagine something as silly as car keys laying in plain sight, and me running around pulling my hair out calling myself an idiot, but feeling even crazier when I do find them.
Last night I couldn't find my phone, and I use it as an alarm to wake up for work in the morning. So I found a clock radio alarm and set it so that I wouldn't have to worry and freak out 5 minutes before sleep. Long and useless story short: waking up 2 hours late is the sign of an exciting day ahead. My hair does look fabulous, so I am anxiously awaiting a good surprise on this the 13th of June.
Trees have always been a favorite symbol for me. I love the way the base begins and the way the branches spread and reach and curl toward the sky. I love the way the sun shines through the bare branches at dusk in late fall, and the way the blue sky peeks through the cracks between the leaves in the summer. I find myself constantly getting shots of trees, and when I draw or paint, the contour, and the wild curved lines just do something to me. Even the spidery shadows they create amaze me. Trees are some of the most beautiful things to grace this earth. Their beauty has no seasonal boundary. They thrive when other things perish, they're the source of so many materials and elements, stories, and memories for people all over the world. I hope this fancinating love affair I am having with trees lasts.
Something I've learned to accept about myself: I lose things easily. I'll have something in my hand or put something somewhere I think is a safe place to find it when it becomes necessary, and then I'll forget. And sure this happens to everyone but when I lose something, I freak out. Imagine something as silly as car keys laying in plain sight, and me running around pulling my hair out calling myself an idiot, but feeling even crazier when I do find them.
Last night I couldn't find my phone, and I use it as an alarm to wake up for work in the morning. So I found a clock radio alarm and set it so that I wouldn't have to worry and freak out 5 minutes before sleep. Long and useless story short: waking up 2 hours late is the sign of an exciting day ahead. My hair does look fabulous, so I am anxiously awaiting a good surprise on this the 13th of June.
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
I'm a Dreamer in My Dreams
I sit here, watching GhostRider with my brother (this movie is the worst), and I wonder why I can't live in my dreams instead of here.
Things don't always go well in dreams, but at least a world of things can alter in a split second in a dream. In the real world, you have to wait for things to happen, or make them happen and suffer through the pain, heartache, etc until you get the that place. A specific characteristic of dreams that I find interesting in myself is that if I become aware that it is a dream, and try to extend it or make it last longer or control the events within it, I inevitably wake up. Without fail. Just another product of the destruction my desire to control creates. I always dream about people that are in my life currently; they make comments and say things that relate to what I might hear them say in reality, but the location is always set in the town I spent my childhood in. It weirds me out to dream this way because I can still see the streets, people, and places, and they seem so real I wake up unsure if the dream actually happened or not. I moved away from that town almost 8 years ago-- I was just a child. This seems significant because, I don't remember actual events or things I really experienced in this town as a child. My mom will start in with her "oh you remember that time.." conversation and usually I nod and smile, but I honestly don't remember most of what she says. Okay, who cares I was a child right? My brother remembers things like this, why don't I? I know I hated living in that place, and relished in the chance to move. I've never looked back until college, when I began meeting the people I grew up with in school. Buuut I digress. Point is-- I'll be having oral surgery this weekend and hope and pray that the medication will take me to that dream world for a while without my foolish interference.
Today my friend G (the one with the Lincoln etching), she informed me that sugar ants were in her keyboard. In my laptop this morning, there were also sugar ants crawling around in my keyboard. The coincidence made us laugh. I don't want to forget how the stupid little things made us feel closer even though we're living far away. Someday, we'll be old women that can laugh and do the same idiot shit we've done today--only we'll know how to handle the after
Things don't always go well in dreams, but at least a world of things can alter in a split second in a dream. In the real world, you have to wait for things to happen, or make them happen and suffer through the pain, heartache, etc until you get the that place. A specific characteristic of dreams that I find interesting in myself is that if I become aware that it is a dream, and try to extend it or make it last longer or control the events within it, I inevitably wake up. Without fail. Just another product of the destruction my desire to control creates. I always dream about people that are in my life currently; they make comments and say things that relate to what I might hear them say in reality, but the location is always set in the town I spent my childhood in. It weirds me out to dream this way because I can still see the streets, people, and places, and they seem so real I wake up unsure if the dream actually happened or not. I moved away from that town almost 8 years ago-- I was just a child. This seems significant because, I don't remember actual events or things I really experienced in this town as a child. My mom will start in with her "oh you remember that time.." conversation and usually I nod and smile, but I honestly don't remember most of what she says. Okay, who cares I was a child right? My brother remembers things like this, why don't I? I know I hated living in that place, and relished in the chance to move. I've never looked back until college, when I began meeting the people I grew up with in school. Buuut I digress. Point is-- I'll be having oral surgery this weekend and hope and pray that the medication will take me to that dream world for a while without my foolish interference.
Today my friend G (the one with the Lincoln etching), she informed me that sugar ants were in her keyboard. In my laptop this morning, there were also sugar ants crawling around in my keyboard. The coincidence made us laugh. I don't want to forget how the stupid little things made us feel closer even though we're living far away. Someday, we'll be old women that can laugh and do the same idiot shit we've done today--only we'll know how to handle the after
Wednesday, June 6, 2007
Double Vision
My mind is racing, but my body's in the lead
Anyone that doesn't think Foreigner was one of the best bands of the 70s and 80s, I will fight you. There is a short list of bands from the same period that I consider to be chock full of musical greatness: Journey, Boston, Styx, Queen, and Foreigner. Classic rock legends.
Head Games
I tend to touch on the subject of Alzheimer's quite a bit, because developing it is something that runs in my family. It's one of the main reasons I take so many pictures; I want to have some kind of proof that things happened, because I might not remember them. That's a painful thought. wow. I thought I had gotten out of my slump when I got some fantastic lightning shots two months ago, but since then my photographic creativity has slumped back into it's hole. When I take good pictures, and they receive praise or attention, I feel like I have some kind of purpose or skill. I seem to have run into a wall; I really lose that 'sight' when I am busy thinking about a million other problems. Shouldn't it be a release to take the pictures? A way of finding the simplicity and beauty I overlook in my daily routine...it used to be my joy. Hell, it's going to have it's purpose in my profession--I hope. Photographs are my real journal. Right now the pages are empty, boring and white.
Don't Stop Believin'
I've thought about this more than once, and and every so often it'll resurface in my mind and nag me--pretty much like everything else does. I've been in college for several years now, and have found what I believe to be that group people search to fit into. I was one of like 3 of my friends that went to a university that none of my closest friends chose to attend. It was rough being all alone in beginning, but it forced me to go out and meet new people, people that understand me. Yet, I've found that nothing compares to the comfort I feel when I am able to reunite with my older friends. Things just fit there. And a small something always hints that maybe--this college group, everyone aspires to one day find--maybe they are just filler friends for the real ones. That's probably not true. But events keep occurring that make me question the how genuine these people are. I sure hope I'm wrong.
Renegade
I know I'm good at taking the blame of myself, or bringing the right amount of attention to myself if I want it. I've never seen myself as a manipulative person, mainly because I can't take some things that people say to me and ignore them and use them to my advantage. I like to argue, I've never been a very good kiss ass or suck up (especially toward teachers in school), and I don't like games. I always think I have my argument and decisions planned out, having pondered all the possible outcomes and accusations that could come my way. Inevitably the one outcome I didn't think of will rear it's ugly head. Yes, I am a controlling person. I like plans, I like decisions, I like to be the one behind the wheel usually. But that's because I've had enough experience with people to know that if I don't make decisions and plans for myself, then nothing will ever happen. As a result I sometimes look like a bitch, and may get called one. And I guess that's what I mean by watching things dissolve and disappear if I reliquish my control, stand back and let the chips fall where they may--chaos will ensue and I will evaporate. dust in the wind. This is where I realize that I don't trust anyone. I put on this act that I am a girl who'll trust you and let you use her, but I am always looking out for the backstabbers. And if I am betrayed, I do retaliate because it's those people that I take the bulk of my frustration and anger with everything out on. What if I do all of these nice things for people, just to see if they will prove my cynicism right? I am my father's daughter. THEN. There are the times I let my guard down, and hope that this time will be the turn around for me, and I won't end up hating people in general. With my girls, I know I made the right decision with them. The jury is still out for others.
Juke Box Hero
I was thinking of making a list of lyrics from many different songs, choosing the ones that apply to my life currently the most. It might be a bored task, but it will be one thing for sure--and that's time consuming.
em
Anyone that doesn't think Foreigner was one of the best bands of the 70s and 80s, I will fight you. There is a short list of bands from the same period that I consider to be chock full of musical greatness: Journey, Boston, Styx, Queen, and Foreigner. Classic rock legends.
Head Games
I tend to touch on the subject of Alzheimer's quite a bit, because developing it is something that runs in my family. It's one of the main reasons I take so many pictures; I want to have some kind of proof that things happened, because I might not remember them. That's a painful thought. wow. I thought I had gotten out of my slump when I got some fantastic lightning shots two months ago, but since then my photographic creativity has slumped back into it's hole. When I take good pictures, and they receive praise or attention, I feel like I have some kind of purpose or skill. I seem to have run into a wall; I really lose that 'sight' when I am busy thinking about a million other problems. Shouldn't it be a release to take the pictures? A way of finding the simplicity and beauty I overlook in my daily routine...it used to be my joy. Hell, it's going to have it's purpose in my profession--I hope. Photographs are my real journal. Right now the pages are empty, boring and white.
Don't Stop Believin'
I've thought about this more than once, and and every so often it'll resurface in my mind and nag me--pretty much like everything else does. I've been in college for several years now, and have found what I believe to be that group people search to fit into. I was one of like 3 of my friends that went to a university that none of my closest friends chose to attend. It was rough being all alone in beginning, but it forced me to go out and meet new people, people that understand me. Yet, I've found that nothing compares to the comfort I feel when I am able to reunite with my older friends. Things just fit there. And a small something always hints that maybe--this college group, everyone aspires to one day find--maybe they are just filler friends for the real ones. That's probably not true. But events keep occurring that make me question the how genuine these people are. I sure hope I'm wrong.
Renegade
I know I'm good at taking the blame of myself, or bringing the right amount of attention to myself if I want it. I've never seen myself as a manipulative person, mainly because I can't take some things that people say to me and ignore them and use them to my advantage. I like to argue, I've never been a very good kiss ass or suck up (especially toward teachers in school), and I don't like games. I always think I have my argument and decisions planned out, having pondered all the possible outcomes and accusations that could come my way. Inevitably the one outcome I didn't think of will rear it's ugly head. Yes, I am a controlling person. I like plans, I like decisions, I like to be the one behind the wheel usually. But that's because I've had enough experience with people to know that if I don't make decisions and plans for myself, then nothing will ever happen. As a result I sometimes look like a bitch, and may get called one. And I guess that's what I mean by watching things dissolve and disappear if I reliquish my control, stand back and let the chips fall where they may--chaos will ensue and I will evaporate. dust in the wind. This is where I realize that I don't trust anyone. I put on this act that I am a girl who'll trust you and let you use her, but I am always looking out for the backstabbers. And if I am betrayed, I do retaliate because it's those people that I take the bulk of my frustration and anger with everything out on. What if I do all of these nice things for people, just to see if they will prove my cynicism right? I am my father's daughter. THEN. There are the times I let my guard down, and hope that this time will be the turn around for me, and I won't end up hating people in general. With my girls, I know I made the right decision with them. The jury is still out for others.
Juke Box Hero
I was thinking of making a list of lyrics from many different songs, choosing the ones that apply to my life currently the most. It might be a bored task, but it will be one thing for sure--and that's time consuming.
em
Monday, June 4, 2007
Calendar Girl
who's in love with the world
stay alive
It has been raining every single day here for over a week.
Now- my favorite movie is 'Singin' in the Rain'-- but this is getting ridiculous! Rain is one of those happenings that feels good like once or twice a month. It cools off a hot day, or gives the busy people a day to cuddle up in bed with a movie. When it rains every single day, combined with heavy winds, dark clouds, and humidity, it's just not enjoyable whatsoever. ENOUGH with the flooding! This just adds to my want to be back at school. Usually when it rains the lightning is exciting and the sun is usually shining again by the end of the storm. Oh, to be there!
June is wedding month! It's time for the rain to stop.
3 nice things about June:
I want to be a June bride
My first child will be named "Ruby June"
Summer.
Singled Out
Got to be some more change in my life...
The weekend flew by, and I feel like I am bursting at the seams with things to say here, but have no idea where to start.
We'll start with Disturbia. The beginning of that movie freaked me out like none other. I don't want to spoil it, but I'll just say-- dying in a tragic car accident, or being in one where someone dies and I live-- is my greatest fear. It's not the dying part that scares the hell out of me. It's the idea of dying slowly and painfully, or dealing with the loss of someone.
This weekend I bought a quilt for my bed in the apartment in the fall. We went to First Monday in Canton, and I rreeeeallly wanted a handmade quilt, but everything they were selling that was old and handmade had been damaged too badly, so I bought a new one from 'Quilt Land'. I am so excited about it! It's totally going to be what my entire room's decor is centered around. I have all these ideas and items I want to find and make for the room itself. Doing this gives me purpose, other than working and studying.
Do you think that if you don't touch anyone for a while, it starts to freak you out? Or when you have someone that you usually have some kind of contact with from day to day, and suddenly that touch that had become so regular for you is ripped away and you begin to miss it. I miss a lot of things this summer that I was taking for granted when I had them. And it's wearing me down.
There are days when nothing surrounding you can fully satisy your need to be active, and there are days when being locked in a pitch black empty room just laying there doing absolutely nothing seems to sound best.
I didn't have as much to say as I thought. Things are too mixed up to clearly get anything down now.
The weekend flew by, and I feel like I am bursting at the seams with things to say here, but have no idea where to start.
We'll start with Disturbia. The beginning of that movie freaked me out like none other. I don't want to spoil it, but I'll just say-- dying in a tragic car accident, or being in one where someone dies and I live-- is my greatest fear. It's not the dying part that scares the hell out of me. It's the idea of dying slowly and painfully, or dealing with the loss of someone.
This weekend I bought a quilt for my bed in the apartment in the fall. We went to First Monday in Canton, and I rreeeeallly wanted a handmade quilt, but everything they were selling that was old and handmade had been damaged too badly, so I bought a new one from 'Quilt Land'. I am so excited about it! It's totally going to be what my entire room's decor is centered around. I have all these ideas and items I want to find and make for the room itself. Doing this gives me purpose, other than working and studying.
Do you think that if you don't touch anyone for a while, it starts to freak you out? Or when you have someone that you usually have some kind of contact with from day to day, and suddenly that touch that had become so regular for you is ripped away and you begin to miss it. I miss a lot of things this summer that I was taking for granted when I had them. And it's wearing me down.
There are days when nothing surrounding you can fully satisy your need to be active, and there are days when being locked in a pitch black empty room just laying there doing absolutely nothing seems to sound best.
I didn't have as much to say as I thought. Things are too mixed up to clearly get anything down now.
Friday, June 1, 2007
Sweet Home Chicago
Chicago on my mind.
I want to go back to Chicago. Ever since my friends and I drove there and spent the week for Spring Break, I've had my mind set on ending up there one day.
The people there are SO kind; every single time we got on an elevator or needed help, the natives would strike up conversation or point us in the right direction. I've never met anyone in Dallas that is even half as kind--on the street anyway.
Right now, there are Cicadas in Chicago! They only emerge from the earth every 17 years and their sound can reach the pitch and decibel of your everyday lawn mower. LOUD! For 6 weeks the cicadas will mate, lay eggs, and then die. It just seems so summer.
It's a good 76 degrees in Chicago at this very moment. perfect.
Long Term Dream: Graduate from Tech, possibly attend graduate school in Chicago--OR: graduate, move to Austin, work for an ad-agency there, eventually move to Chicago, live and work there for several years, move back to Texas and raise a family.
But I wouldn't object to changes in that plan, that's for sure.
The BLUES BROTHERS loved it-- so do I.
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