i'm a nutcase

Hi.

I have a strange urge to speak to someone right now, but there is no one I really feel like calling. I've been on the phone too much today, begging for donations from businesses at my internship, talking to family members about nonsense, apologizing to friends for drunken behavior, the usual. My point is, if I were treating this blawg like a phone call, these are the things I would say.

-LYKE OMG HI! itz bin sOoOo long sinz i've tawlked 2 u!! ..paha, but seriously..
- I got too drunk last night, unintentionally. Beer, apparently, will continue to get the better of me despite my efforts against it. Oh well, it was fun, from what I recall.
- I'm really sad about the construction workers dying on 21st street. I hope the lesson learned is that buildings should never be that tall, until humans learn to fly.
- When I was eating an apple earlier today the first bite I took formed a perfect C. It was beautiful, but I finished the apple anyway
- Summer is restoring my soul. I mean this much less deep than it sounds. I just feel good, and it isn't just because I'm intoxicated more regularly. I've always wondered how to tell the difference between experiencing true happiness and superficial or circumstantial, happiness. It's really hard sometimes, maybe just for me, but I think recently it's gotten a little easier to figure out. It isn't that I'm happier, because I'm usually pretty happy, I mean, domino's is a flourishing business, Hanson will continue to make beautiful melodic music and I have really funny friends. I think it's that I feel more joy, which yes all of you thesaurus natzis, is different. I sound like an idiot girl probably, but, this might be the joy talking, I don't care. I'm so pleased to be where I am right now, and I honestly wouldn't change a thing. That's true happiness I think. This turned strangely reflective.

Sorry didn't mean to talk your ear off! What's that? ..I didn't know you had a parakeet. No, No, I understand, You have to go walk it..it's cool. We'll talk soon.

freaked out?

So. It isn't generally my style to write in this blog regularly. I like to keep the public wanting more, not dissimilar to the way Chik-fil-A is closed on Sundays or the way Patrick Swayze only made a cameo in Dirty Dancing 2. However, I can't stop wanting to ramble aimlessly in this silly text box, and I'm kind of in a 'do what I want' phase currently..so I put two and two together.

Today I spent my afternoon swimming amongst Austin's finest at Deep Eddy Pool, surrounded by babies, toddlers, and whatever other classifications of children there might be. While doing so, hanging with the peeps, I remembered something. It's not profound or life changing, more of a simple, comforting thought. I remembered just how damn young I am. I don't have a baby. I don't drive a mini-van. I don't have a full-time job. I don't have a mortgage. Hell, I haven't even acquired a taste for red wine. I'm obviously a child. Needless to say, it was the best feeling I've had in awhile. Sure I have friends who are graduating, getting married, and becoming people..but as a 21 year old, I've only lived 1/4 of my life. 1/4! So, despite the never ending anxiety, decision-making and adult situations..I'm a child in a world of adults. This post needs to end now because I'm going to go get drunk with some more peeps. In true youthful fashion..

paint with all the colors of the wind

I'm blogging. I'm blogging and I should be sleeping. Here I sit, typing at a cross-roads. Caught somewhere between the burden I have for fulfilling my responsibility as an esteemed blogist (I'm much too unique to refer to myself as a 'blogger') and my commitment to providing excellent, alert, customer service at Gregory at 6am. It's just so hard being me.

Sarcasm is sometimes difficult to detect through non-verbal advanced mediums.. like, blogs, so, I'll help you out. It's not really hard being me. In fact, aside from the pressure I face daily concerning my unsurpassed humor, it's easy. For the past four days I've been living in an unbelievable fantasy world of birthdays, sun, dollar beer and hilarity. It has been picturesque. If I could paint a giant painting that reminded me of what the last four days has entailed, there would be the following:

1. A wise, homeless saint who reminded me just why it is important to "not talk about it, just be about it."
2. A stomach, sunburned only around the bellybutton.
3. A beer can, with no label..just a dollar sign, and a 1 next to it..like so: $1
4. A strawberry.. the new shot glass for hip, youthful, scenesters to take shots of rum and whipped cream out of.
5. The single word HA.

So I think you get my point. Sometimes you just need to sit down and figure out what in your life you would paint a mural of. It really puts things in perspective.

In closing, This is one of my more profound posts. Re-read it if you feel you've missed something. Over and out.

sleepless in seattle

Alright ALRIGHT, I know what you're thinking. No, I'm not in Seattle. Rain on my parade if you must and subsequently ruin my adorable movie reference. The point is, I can't sleep. In true Tom Hanks fashion I sit on my bed, wide awake, listening to an obscure radio host speak the truths of my life and hypnotize me as he/she coddles me with his/her optimism, ultimately resulting in aiding my father's search for true love, ending with a timely reunion atop the Eiffel Tower. It's going to be a busy night.

In other news, no I'm not delusional. I know my life does not mirror the Sleepless in Seattle plot line...yet. I'm just a bit on the thoughtful side, not to say I'm doing nice things for people, more that I'm full of thoughts. Some good, some not so good, some absolutely ridiculous. Here's a sampling. Good thought: This weekend is going to be really great. An assortment of 21st birthday celebrations to attend, lost of boozin' and boatin' AND I'm only working on Sunday. Bad thought: What am I going to do this summer. Yes, I'm taking classes, working, babysitting, interning..but what am I going to DO? Hopefully things. Ridiculous thought: I should get another hamster.

ONE

It was one of those days. A day started with purpose. A morning full of genuine positivity for whatever lies ahead. With the night ending dismally abrupt with said positivity replaced with unpleasant reality crashing (an ironic line, you'll soon understand) all around.

You can see I'm being dramatic. But I have a right you see, for without drama everyday life becomes dull. A mindless exchange of pleasantries laced with practiced motions so familiar you don't even realize their existence. (More drama, needless, but fun.)

I got in a wreck today. My first. I'm fine. The other driver was fine. Everyone's fine. Except my poor, pathetic, nearly geriatric, 10-year-old car. A companion since I was 15 (I shouldn't say loyal, seeing as to how it has often left me stationary in my time of need..), my Jetta has been through it all. Blown out tires, catalytic converter catastrophes, a smashed windshield via pumpkin, rear ending my sister's car, stalling in the middle of roads, and now..it's current injury. Body damage from a car driving at approximately 30 miles an hour and t-boning me in the middle of an intersection. No need for details, it was my fault. Let's just say babies truly will be the death of me.

It just sucks. No one likes getting yelled at and being chastised to tears in the middle of a neighborhood, juxtaposed to a smashed car. (I never said drama was kind..) The point is, yes there is always a point, I find it so interesting that on days I VOW to be positive, days I SWEAR not to be anxious, I am so quickly tested. So suddenly asked to demonstrate my commitment to my arbitrary promise. Needless to say, I failed. I forgot for just a moment (by that I mean until just now..) that my life is charmed. Good thing I am remembering it now. Whew! That was a close one.

It's not that I think anyone truly cares to read the things I have to say, it's that if, on the off chance that there is a person who fits the above description, I can't bare to withhold my brilliance from them. So you're welcome ghost-readers.

In addition, I can't help that it's just what I do. I'm always secretly impressed with people who keep journals and daily diaries with no intention of sharing them. I find when I write things for only myself to read they are painfully cynical and much too self-involved to do any good. But when I write things on obscure Web sites that hold only a small possibility of readership, my ramblings are usually a bit cheerier, and who doesn't need more cheer? Exactly.

I have something to say. It isn't funny or ironic or entertaining in the slightest, so quit yer' readin' now if yer' bored.

What I have to say gives testament to a principle of the world I oft' forget. A simple reminder that I am cursed with the blessing of eternal good fortune. Stop rolling your eyes, trust me, I'm just as big of a believer in the 'jinx' as the next person, but this is bigger than a case of accidental simultaneous speak. It's my fate. In my life, everything just works out. Not immediately, not in the blink of an eye or the twitch of a magical nose (Bewitched reference. you're welcome). It isn't about timeliness or evading suffering. I'm a HUGE believer in the proverbial sentiment, time heals all, and I detest individuals with trial-free, picturesque lifestyles. My point is, the difficulties, the seemingly impossible experiences,the difficult classes and projects, the ridiculous nonsense..always, forgive the repetition, works out.

Case and point: I lost my, very expensive, Jetta car key in January. I was pretty sure I lost it at a bar downtown, but I never had the desire to check, what were the chances it was there? Minuscule. To be blunt, there are episodes of Rock of Love that I have cared more about than this occurrence. I had a spare, (not electronic) and I sucked it up and used this key for the past 4 months. Last night, downtown, I went into the bar, walked up to the bartender told him what my key looked like and in zero time, he handed it to me. Boo ya.

ttttypical.

yes, i've officially made this blog an excuse to post things i have to write in class. so yes. this essay was in response to the prompt, "My biggest fear in the world is.." enjoy the ridiculousy.

I usually dote on the idea that I am not scared of anything. I love nothing more than the window seat on an airplane. I see nothing wrong with humans and cockroaches coexisting. And I live for shark week on the Discovery channel. I obtained my black belt in Tae Kwan Do at the ripe age of 12, so I have pretty much always had a sense of reassurance in terms of my ability to protect myself from a majority of the dangerous perils of life. However, due to the thought provoking nature of this assignment and generally not having anything else to trouble myself with, I came to realize that I am scared of something. A fear so appalling that even as I think about it now, I shudder at the thought.

I am scared of the word typical. To clarify, this is not a simple case of onomatophobia, an irrational fear of certain words and sounds. It runs much deeper.
I guess I could start with the phonetics. Think about other words that end in ICAL: cubical, cynical, tyrannical, stoical, not exactly an exhaustive list, but I think you get my point. Words that end in –ical, are critical (sorry, last one). Without giving it another thought, I can say that aside from its spelling, I am horribly terrified of the very essence of what ‘typical’ stands for. More specifically, I’m scared of myself, being typical.

Whether it is in relationships, my outward appearance or during a conversation, I live in constant avoidance of things that are negatively connotated as typical. I cannot surrender to acting needy, I refuse to purchase Sperry’s and I avoid small talk whatever the cost.

It is an irrational fear, as most are, and even as I think about it further, images of bear attacks, thoughts of accidents that render me paralyzed and the overarching inevitability of death, don’t faze me in the least. It is the present. It is today. It is the notion that I could squander the infinite creative potential that is inherent in each new day I am given by being content with the status quo.

There is comfort in the familiar, convenience in the simple and practicality in the ordinary, but what about the beauty in imperfection, the excitement of the unknown and the inspiration of the original? It isn’t that I find fault with those embracing normalcy, it’s that from my perspective, the very thought of living a life that’s anything but my very own is maddening.

In kindergarten during the week spent learning about individuality, the fun fact that no two people’s fingerprints were the same really blew my mind. Everyone is unique. No two people are exactly alike. Those are just words, until you can prove it.