Wrapping

Twitter stole my blogging career. We just need to accept this fact and move on. Also, if you don't use Twitter, use it. If you don't understand Twitter, you're doing it wrong. Feel free to follow anyone I follow, then you'll probably feel a little more confident with things.

I am taking two art history classes taught by the most fascinating professors. No, really. They are brilliant and I spend most of the class time drooling over their intelligence, wondering what it is like knowing so much information. And not just knowing the information, but having the knowledge just wrapping itself around their souls.

I want soul-wrapping knowledge.

Maybe even soul-rapping knowledge. I don't know how that would be, but I imagine it would be very gangster.

This week I made groundbreaking records of passivity and motivation-plummets. I'm not sure how to fix it, but I am sure donuts are in the solution someplace. I will keep you posted on the number of hours I spend lying on my bed, donutless, writhing in agony as I keep a fair distance from anything with a deadline.

Things that have made me happy today

making this playlist (compiled from my latest likes on pandora) (it's exactly 2 hours of music)

this photograph from my history of photography class:

knowing that 5/6 of my professors know my name

finding things to include on my Christmas list (including cotton candy perfume, lilac lip stain, and the Film Is Not Dead book by my favorite portrait photographer

Rumours

i have come to the conclusion that the following are inaccuracies:

taking the library route is free
hashtags are worth all the negative attention they get
you are only trendy if you rebel against trends
fun. is now a terrible band (complain about bruno mars, instead. or maroon 5.)
heels can only be worn by short women
art should only be made by the artistic
hot chocolate is only good in the winter
pumpkin is only good in the fall

Third Floor Living

I've been meaning to write this post ever since the beginning of the school year.

Things I love about my apartment / living on the third floor:

1. Paranoia-free open windows. Whenever I want. And it's finally warm enough to have my bedroom window open through the night. Earlier this year, it threw me off when I had to start closing my window because of the weather - my room is so quiet with it shut.

2. The view from my window. It's lovely. I can see the lake (which is just about three miles from my apartment), so I can enjoy the sunset just by turning my head.

3. The sunshine / shadows on my wall. I have a west-facing window, so I can track what season it is just by where the sun is shining on my wall or bed.

So maybe I don't "track" the seasons.

Either way;

4. The train. The train tracks are a hop, skip, a jump, and then some away from my apartment. Really close. So my apartment sways every time the train goes by. It's kind of soothing, in a weird way. Nostalgic without the memories.

5. Calves of steel. I haul myself and my art supplies up and down two flights of stairs about seventeen times a day [pair that with going to a school that has more stairs than the Empire State Building] and I'm pretty fit.

Actually I'm probably just normal, but I still like to think my life will be extended seven or so years from the exercise I get just by going home from school.

6. The potential to climb out my window via many sheets tied together.

Eavesdropping

I am in the computer lab filling out a passport application right now, for no reason other than just in case.

I like it when people travel in pairs. It makes life more interesting because people aren't as quiet in public when they are with a friend. Plus I can eavesdrop on their conversations and get a little taste of people I'll never see again. Or at least people I'll forget that I've met through listening to the things they say in the computer lab.

A few minutes ago two girls came in, one needing to print an assignment. They were both beautiful with their dark skin, smooth voices, and confidence in talking about whatever they wanted in the quiet, student-packed room. It bothers me because I've already forgotten plenty of what they said, but it was all lovely and inspiring. They both talked about studying the Bible. The girl printing a paper said that she was just going to start reading the Bible on the train to school; that it was really all she wanted to read. Her friend said, "I want it to be that when I talk, I talk like the Bible. So when people argue with me, I'll say, 'That's from the Bible. You're arguing with the Bible?'" She went on to say that one of her friends told her, "You know when you spend a lot of time with a person, you start to talk like them? If you spend a lot of time with God, you'll start to talk like Him." They talked more about the scriptures and the scripture mastery verses from The Book of Mormon, and how they wanted to study them. To absorb them, even into their vocabulary. Into their speech.

I just think that is so beautiful. I have grown to love the scriptures, and I try to read them every day. But I don't think I am nearly as open about them as those girls were. That whole conversation was just inspiring to me. They were so confident in their beliefs, and they didn't hide their love of the Bible or of the Book of Mormon. They just talked about what they thought about them without worrying about what people think.

What a lovely thing,
a person being confident and open about their beliefs.

Obsessions

1. Blogging. 

Believe it or not, I am totally in love with blogging. "Believe it or not" because maybe you're thinking, "You rarely post, citizen." To which I respond with, "You're right."
But really, as I've probably said an abundance of times,
I love reading people's blogs.
A lot.
I just love people. And lately I've actually been compiling a list of people in my brain. The list is called "People Whom I Admire". The best part of the list is that is says "whom" in it.

Someday I'll post about that list. I'm still compiling it.

Sneak Peek: A man named Howard from my Art Lectures class is on it. He introduces the speaker, and he's entertaining. Stay tuned for that one.

2. I honestly forgot the next thing I wanted on this list.

3. Film photography.
What is it about a picture that doesn't have pixels? Maybe looking at film photography is a break from the screen that seems to somehow constantly ween its way into my sight all the days that I am awake. I think that digital photography is beautiful in the sense that it is fresh, and film photography is beautiful because it is pure. It's almost overwhelming.

4. I think that #2 was supposed to be music.
That link is mainly a compiled playlist of my favorite Grooveshark playlists. And other songs that are just splendid. I feel like a broken record with this list, mostly. But really, music. It is what keeps me sane and what drives me insane when I realize my ears have been drowning in too much song. Then I keep listening.

5. Twitter.
I like it better than Facebook. Only because Facebook seems . . . I don't know the word. I guess I like reading about people's lives rather than looking at the memes people post just to see how many shares and likes they can get.

And Twitter is like writing quick blog posts when I'm at school and I don't have time to pull up my blog to rant about useless things.

The only problem with it is that people are trapped in other social networks and their friends don't use Twitter, so I tweet to like five people. Which is fine, I guess.

6. People.
As I said in #1, I have a mental list of people who are inspiring in some way or another. I like trying to understand why people do what they do, say what they say, and think what they think. And I like learning from those people, and applying what I learn from them to myself.

Or just trying to apply those things, at the very least.

Spectrum

When did it become acceptable for people to say that real women--beautiful women--are the curvy women, while skinny girls are referred to as ugly twigs and skeletons?

I find it a little unnerving that we can't just accept that women are women and beauty is beauty without bashing at least some portion of a useless spectrum.

Constancies

Things that seem to remain a Constant in my state of existence.


The poetry book from the library that travels with from my room and to my home-home. I always mean to return it, but I always forget.

The various school things I keep meaning to return in the mail, but keep ignoring them.

My memory fading in and out of dependability. I ought to get a planner, but I keep trying to talk myself into believing that my mind can remember all these things that I can count on forgetting.

Heart squelches from music, people, and otherwise.

Thursday: Theories, Thoughts, and Other Things

When my face has, what it seems to be, a normal, straight-mouth expression, apparently it looks like I am scowling. I have had people on multiple occasions say things to me like, "Smile!" and other ridiculous commands.

Maybe I was just born with a scowl. 

I mostly can't handle how scatterbrained I am, lately. (I am always scatterbrained, but lately it has become more of a problem.) It's getting completely out of hand, and forgetting supplies, assignments, and other various class-type things is not an experience I particularly enjoy. I should probably choose a major that solely depends on computer work or something that doesn't require me relying on my brain.

I have been so sniffly these last few days. I truly want to blame the smog, because I had cold-like symptoms the last time we experienced this array of dirty, disgusting particles floating around the air around here. This time my voice has had its struggles, and I've used a fair amount of tissues. Soup sessions should be in order here, soon.

In the hallways at school, I think the chairs lined against the walls should actually be turned around to face the walls. I don't really enjoy using the halls as my runway.

I hold the record on a number of accomplishments. To name a couple: Changing my phone number the most times out of everyone. Having to clean my room the most times out of everyone. The most often. It mostly just takes me a couple minutes to make a mess of things, and luckily it just takes me a few more minutes to clean it all up. It's just a little humorous to see the transition of my bedroom's state throughout the day.

I'm cutting my hair tomorrow. It's not a big deal, because I'm not going from long hair to a pixie cut, or anything. But it's been getting hard to fix, lately. So let's chop it off.

And that is all I wish to say at this time.

Bests

Some of the best feelings in the world:

Blasting music in the car after realizing the fade/balance settings were adjusted wrong.

Going to the first day of a ballet class in years.

Harmonizing your favorite songs.

Dancing.

Eating when your stomach is empty.

Feeling too warm from the sunshine in the dead of winter.

Obserfact

Fact: I forgot deodorant this morning.
Observation: The pioneers still got married.

Fact: My throat is feeling mildly swollen.
Observation: Maybe I should have knocked on wood all those times I said I have an immune system of steel.

Fact: I have another four hour test to look forward to this week. And a planar sculpture to turn in, and a poem to write, and five thousand assignments to complete in order to catch up on my online class.
Observation: It's okay because when my brain kicks me into the insane asylum, I won't have to worry about those things.

Fact: My phone is in my pocket. It was deactivated on Saturday.
Observation: There should be better reasons for going through withdrawals.

Fact: I woke up at 5:28 AM, exactly one hour before my alarm was set to go off. I panicked, thinking that it was time to wake up and that I hadn't set my alarm. So I lay in bed, making myself stay awake because the snooze button wasn't an option if my alarm hadn't been set.
Observation: I do a better job making myself stay awake when I'm supposed to be asleep than my alarm does at waking me up when I'm going to be late for class.

Fact: Sometimes in my head I yell at the top of my lungs because I realize that I can.
Observation: Yelling in your head probably doesn't have the same effect as yelling at the top of your lungs in the school library.

Not that I would know.

Trust [citation needed] Fund

It's like I'm being conditioned to trust nobody.

Doctors. Lawyers. Boys. CEOs. The human race.

It's not that I don't want to trust people. Because, more than anything, I want to. And a lot of the time, I do. And then I get flipped onto my back with the wind knocked square out of me.

Then I remember,
Oh, yeah. People lie. And I kind of hate it.

So I feel like there are two things I can do:

1. Trust, because trust is necessary, then pay the consequence.

B. Trust nobody, then pay the consequence.

IV. Be really cautious about whom I trust, 

and probably end up wrong anyway.

I'll be lying on the concrete if anyone needs me.

Like

I don't want to sound arrogant.

But I am sometimes led to believe that some people like me.

I mean, sometimes people don't. And I guess that's fine.

But when they do like me, sometimes I wonder why. But I think I may have found a few reasons.

1. I am accommodating to criminals.
2. I don't shoo males away when I'm working (or trying to look like I am working) and tell them I'm really not interested.
3. I'm a human punching bag (figuratively. Unless, of course, we're talking emotionally, mentally, and spiritually) for males who have had too much to drink and are locked out of their hotel rooms.
4. I eat the sushi guests offer me. Half the time.
5. I can fix the internet, the hot tub, and whatever other problems arise at the hotel.

Actually, ignore number five. That's a false statement.

Maybe that's why some people don't like me.

Contour

Sometimes life feels like a contour drawing.

Lines everywhere. You can't erase them. You can only tune them out by drawing a new line.

But those overwhelmed lines spill an identity onto the page.

The lines don't always make sense unless you're looking at the whole piece.

Even then, there's still that sense of obscurity present.

I am not blogging while I'm at work.
My mind does not continue to revert back to the idea of eating, change, foggy futures, butterfly tomorrows, and the same song reeling over and over my brain [tuning out the brief language nearing the end of the piece, all the while].

Spring Again

Two ill-hearted holidays right in a row. An excuse to maul people with pinches, and a poor justification for telling a lie.

Just interesting celebrations.

Either way. I love blossies.

And colors that remind me of memory-storybooks.

A Contrast

"I'm checking out," he states promptly.
I take the man's keys and ask the routine "Did you enjoy your stay?"
He is silent for a brisk moment. He responds with a jeer-draped and drawn out "Sure," eyes on the verge of rolling.




An older gentleman walks through the lobby with the luggage cart. We greet each other. He walks out the doors with the cart, and then returns a few minutes later.
"What's your favorite color?" he asks me.
I pause. "Yellow," I respond, only because I don't want to explain my love of diluted and rather specific color preferences; olive green, mustard yellow, antique pink, even coral.
"Yellow," he repeats. "That's not very common." He continues through the lobby. "I'll get you a piece."
I pause again. "What?"
He stops. "I'm a glass maker. Will you be here tomorrow?"
"Yes," I respond with question in my voice.
"Okay, I will bring you a piece."

Reason #429

Reason #429 why it's sad to grow up.

You can't go around telling people that you're engaged when you're not.

Because then people will think you're engaged.

Glaciers

It's weird how at one moment time can be at a perfectly glaciered standstill
And then at the next moment it's melting off a hot butter knife at, once again, a flurried pace.

4, 3, 2, 1

My throat will discontinue in its soreness. Before it amounts to anything severe.
I demand it.


I am a countdown type of person. I count down to everything in every way possible so as to partially understand the time process between now & later.

For instance,

"In one hour I will only have two hours of work left."

"Three weeks. Four Sundays. Nine work shifts. Give or take. Ish."

"In twenty-eight days, there will be four days until my birthday."

But apparently one cannot always count down to the arrival of envelope-encased messages. Unfortunately.

Nearly Falling

It feels like fall has melted into place this year. Rather than winter biting into summer, causing me to be ornery and bitter toward the current axis of the earth.

Some years I feel like fall never really exists. And then I dread winter, I hate winter, and I wish winter away.

This year, I've come to terms with the shifting seasons and tilting planet.

I am not promising a permanent complacency, but only declaring my lack of hatred toward the diminishing hours of sunlight each day. 

However, I am hoping my content attitude regarding the chilled air lasts for a few minutes longer.