Where's my head at? at? at?

life's what happens while you're making plans

Wed, 30 May 2012 12:31:49 -0400

nothing is going like it is supposed to today. does anyone ever work, or is productivity just a well-planned charade?

in other huey lewis & the news

Thu, 24 May 2012 08:37:57 -0400

LJ this is not, and it felt a bit weird mixing my more private thoughts with the multimedia sharing that Tumblr is so obviously set up for. So this journal will be relegated to random (private) thoughts and other quarter-life-crisis inaneries.

I’ve set up another journal to remind me of the things i’m grateful for and that inspire me and that i think in some way define me…generally more upbeat in tune

Even the journal names seem to reflect those differences.

puzzledu vs paisleypanache.tumblr.com

There you have it. My blog’s origin story. Now back to your regularly scheduled program.

ready, set, blend

Thu, 24 May 2012 08:29:33 -0400

I just put spinach, strawberries, banana, wheat germ, aloe vera juice, OJ, and a dash of honey in a blender.

and now i’m drinking it?!

to be followed by a light workout?! (jury is still out on that one)

*taps self on shoulder* who are you?

theaestate: there went my heart VIA

Wed, 23 May 2012 16:02:14 -0400

theaestate:

there went my heart

VIA

yourmothershouldknow: Marie Claire Rusia Abril 2012 Audrey...

Wed, 23 May 2012 08:04:17 -0400

yourmothershouldknow:

Marie Claire Rusia Abril 2012

Audrey Tatou por Shayne Laverdière. Estilismo de Lotta Volkova.

…..

Marie Claire Russia April 2012

Audrey Tatou by Shayne Laverdière. Styling by Lotta Volkova.

Triflin ass motherfuckers….ackin like they ain’t got...

Wed, 02 May 2012 10:27:06 -0400

Triflin ass motherfuckers….ackin like they ain’t got no home trainin…STOLE MY FUCKIN BIKE CHAIN (from under my nose, basically) A sad fact I discovered when I attempted to ride it and promptly went no-the-fuck-where (can you tell I’m upset). I was so proud to have finally fixed it too! City living, you will not rain on my parade (again)!

So the sketchy looking place (but apparently very reputable)...

Fri, 27 Apr 2012 18:18:40 -0400

So the sketchy looking place (but apparently very reputable) place on Parsons Ave no longer fixes bikes. *cue momentary pouting* I considered walking/riding it to a place on Long St before I was like fuck it, i got this shit…

And so I did. Armed with Chels’ screws and Mike’s tools, I got that fender re-attached. All this without chipping my very-recently painted nails. Took it on a test run and all seems hunky dory. *cue w00ts*

So this song seems appropriate given the circumstances. And yes I am listening to it as I type. And yes I’ve been on a TLC kick since Left Eye’s … death anniversary…is there a proper term for that?

Everything is coming up Milhouse!

It's the circle of life/& it moves us all/through despair & hope/through faith & love

Wed, 25 Apr 2012 15:31:51 -0400

April 25th, how did I ever not know how important you were before.

Ella Fitzgerald, anniversary of her birth

Lisa “Left Eye” Lopes, anniverarsy of her death (seems so much longer than 10 years ago)

Talkin’ bittersweet.

Danae and the Shower of Gold? Really? A painting commemorating...

Tue, 24 Apr 2012 10:01:28 -0400

Danae and the Shower of Gold? Really? A painting commemorating (what-I-presume-to-be) the first golden shower? I always knew Zeus was into that kinky shit.

#mythologicalfetishes, #18thcenturyporn

mesbeauxarts:

Adolf Ulrik Wertmüller. Danaë and the Shower of Gold. 1787.

Oil on canvas.

Nationalmuseum. Stockholm, Sweden.

Heh. hehheh. nevver: Post Apocalyptic Bart Simpson

Tue, 24 Apr 2012 02:06:24 -0400

Heh. hehheh.

nevver:

Post Apocalyptic Bart Simpson

put a smile on your face/make the world a better place

Tue, 24 Apr 2012 01:56:41 -0400

Grin and bear it.

I was hoping that by going off of my meds I’d feel less…emotionally constipated? That I’d feel like giving a damn again. Part of my me plan was to write in this thing 3x per week and yet I honestly feel as if I have nothing to say/nothing going on…even though I simultaneously feel as if my mind is overflowing. I get so annoyed when I ask students, “how was school/what’d you learn,” only to receive a “fine” or shrugged shoulders. Yet, am I not doing the same thing?

And sometimes I do feel like caring/trying, I guess. But then I’m just paralyzed by my self-defeating thoughts of inadequacy (sidenote: You care too muuuuch….Observe & Report, anyone? Anyone? Bueller?)

I really had no intention for this journal to be so angsty. I feel like I’m 18 with none of the added benefits of a supercharged metabolism.

Sigh, (later) today is a new day and all that cliched jazz.

status update

Fri, 20 Apr 2012 18:53:49 -0400

I just made some bomb-ass spaghetti with Italian sausage.

This after having tidied up the room, which now inexplicably smells of crayons….not that I’m complaining.

Keeping busy to keep sane. Now I understand why Serra cleaned when she was anxious/stressed/upset/pensive. Needless to say, her spot was immaculate.

I don't know why I'm scared/I've been here before/Every feeling, every word, I've imagined it all/You'll never know if you never try/to forget your past

Fri, 17 Feb 2012 18:01:00 -0500

… and simply be mine

So there’s this thing I do…

I worry endlessly, needlessly

I get lost in a brain that is clouded with the anxiety of swirling “what ifs…”

I play out every possibility in my head…verbal reactions, consequences, my response, etc.

I know I do it. I recognize it. But I still can’t stop it. And this shit goes waaay back…

My elementary school required every student in each grade to write a book to showcase at a parent-teacher night or some jazz like that. So, in 1st or 2nd grade, I wrote and illustrated a book with a pink construction paper cover entitled “The Little Worry Girl.” It’s the tale of a girl who worries she’ll miss the bus or being hurt by a paper airplane that could fly into her eye. I don’t think I was aware I was writing a fictionalized account of myself.

Also around that same age, I remember going to Busch Gardens with my mom and a cousin. It’s lunch time, and my mom leaves us alone to get napkins or something. Meanwhile Denise (cousin) and I feed some birds a few french fries. My mom comes back and asks what we are doing. ”Oh, just feeding the birds *doofy grin*” ”Didn’t you see that sign?” Not two feet away from us is a sign that requests park goers to not feed the birds or caged animals. I ask my mom why that is. She says that they don’t want the animals to get used to it and start taking guests’ food.

And that’s all it took for my imagination to run wild. I had nightmares about a family peacefully enjoying an overpriced, amusement park meal when suddenly, like Alfred Hitchcock’s Birds, birds swoop out of the sky violently pecking and grabbing food from their hands. After all, I had seen a goose attack/chase my mom, so that scenario seemed totally plausible to me. And that thought haunted me for years. In dreams or random, idle moments. I didn’t stop worrying about how I single-handedly (with the aid of a few fries) ruined the vacations of thousands of families until…oh, about 8th grade.

So, yea…

No matter what I’m actively doing or how confident I may seem, I’m plagued by thoughts of how and when things will go wrong…or how I’ll fuck things up. So I try my damndest and take the actions I (for some reason) believe will avert said, imagined catastrophe. Which gets…exhausting…living out everyone else’s lives for them in my head, as well as my parallel lives/alternate realities.

And that’s where the intoxicants come in. It’s the only thing that gives me any respite from myself. Blissfully unawares (dangerously unawares?). But then self-medicating in that way is a whole other bag of flaming shit on my front porch of self-awareness. Sigh.

I guess I’m afraid of disappointing people (myself included) because that opens the door for them to leave my life. Even those people who probably should leave my life and whose negative opinions I perversely cherish and internalize. Or those friendships that have naturally run their course, I can’t help but think…if only i’d tried harder or done this instead, maybe he/she would still be around.

I just want so badly to love someone and be loved…and for it to be lasting and enriching. And sometimes that desire clouds my better judgement.

My last counselor asked me if a friend disappointed or angered me through some (in the grand scheme of things) minor peccadillo, would I turn my back or would I forgive. Of course I said, “Forgive.” To which he responds, “Then why can’t you apply that same forgiveness to yourself? Why do you assume your friends won’t show you that same understanding and forgiveness that you’ve offered them?”

Shit. Didn’t have an answer for that. Still don’t. Heh, and I worry that I’ll never be in a place where I believe I’m worthy of my forgiveness and that of others. But I’m still fuckin trying.

I must become the lion hearted girl

Thu, 09 Feb 2012 13:53:00 -0500

I’m feeling…a lot right now.

And I’m trying to get some of that out instead of making a bee line for the bowl.

I’m so.fucking.frustrated. I feel like I can’t do anything because…ohh, how will that affect Z’s feelings if he knows I’m friends with that person/doing this thing/etc.

I feel like he’s still controlling my life.

Because I’m like 98% sure his sudden change to the plan today was because I changed my FB status to “single.”

(side note: Why is that ppl can “like” my changing to “single?” I guess it makes sense in FB logic, but in reality it just lets creepers from my elem/middle school that had crushes to come out of the woodwork. [except Chuckisimo])

Kinda like when we broke up the first time…and he called angry, demanding to know why I’d do such a thing. Uhh, because YOU said we were over. Well, idk, i didn’t mean it like thaaat.

So I changed it to “it’s complicated,” and it has been that way for the past…year and a half. And when his friends ask when we’d make it “FB official,” we’d offer blank stares and say ohh yea, we’re rarely on…guess we just forgot to change it *awkward chuckle* NEXT TOPIC!

He has been so snide, so mercurial, so caustic, showing that vindictiveness that became suuuch a turn-off …but I’m the selfish, awful person. You aren’t the first person in the world to go through a breakup!

I don’t think I’m emotionless for putting up a steely front…I’m just dealing with reality how it is and not how I imagine it being.

I feel I must interject here you’re getting carried away feeling sorry for yourself
With these revisions and gaps in history

Don’t you feed me lines about some idealistic future
Your heart won’t heal right if you keep tearing out the sutures

see? we are not breaking new ground here….

Tú me dices que este amor ha sido en vano ¡qué malo que dices eso!... pero ¡qué bueno que se acabó!

Sat, 28 Jan 2012 13:33:52 -0500

A cautionary tale, but at least it was X rated.

Quit your job. Buy a big knife. Do something!

I guess you could say I'm going organic

Sat, 28 Jan 2012 13:10:41 -0500

I was wrong to ever think a fake plant could replace a real, blooming, growing live house plant.

Especially in these dreary, winter months, the latter are far more comforting.

They're too happy...it can't last

Sat, 14 Jan 2012 14:43:15 -0500

Gut reaction to the engrossing Argentine film Carancho.

was it a wry remark formulated from years of having a hearty movie appetite OR

was it a serendipitous comment describing most types (but maybe not all?) of relationships?

“Irregardless.”

Yesterday afternoon about this time I was thinking that despite all the personal shit (ahhhh, le mot juste) I’m juggling, I’d consider myself fairly happy. When Z makes pained inquiries into my well-being, there is a subtext of you should also sound/be miserable.

But I’m not. I have no needs unmet nor any desire to complain about anything. That continues to be true

which is what made (late) last night that much weirder.

I had 1+ (read: enough) beers/drinks to be drunk, not blackout…I donnn’t thiiink?, last night prior to (borrowing a term from Lost…oh god, a small part of me just died) The Incident….soooo, yeahhh…

And I felt sooo crestfallen after cracking the gift-souvenir

Looking back I feel as if there were maybe threads of genuine concern(s) for both parties. Damn you intoxicants and your loosening of the tongue muscle! Because 2am attempts to even indirectly discuss feelings — being neither the time nor of sound mind — has been statistically proven 999 out of 1000 to end, at the very least awkwardly….worst case scenario, more like the star-crossed lovers OJ & Nicole.

Luckily last night fell squarely in the camp of the former. I think maybe we both overreacted…maybe because other times we (or I) underreacted? Blerg. Ultimately, it seems a reminder to me that playing house is fun but it’s time to woman up!…and by that I mean, get my spot back from Z.

So that I can give whatever this is enough space to grow. I don’t want to make the same mistakes from which I’m still cleaning up after. And I made promises to lots of people, myself included, that I would not go through that again. And He deserves better.

Sooo yeah, I had a nightmare that my hair was coming out in huge clumps. Any dream interpreters in this bitch?

Dragon enema bookends.

(m)omnipresent

Tue, 03 Jan 2012 16:00:00 -0500

God could not be everywhere, so he created mothers.

Now, I’m not big on religion (though I used to be…and I’m usually forced to go to church on major holidays, like Christmas), but my family is. Anywho, my mom had her big 5-0 a couple of years ago, and I — being the broke college student that I am/was — used what I had on hand…which wasn’t much. But I did have a picture of her holding me as a toddler. And writing has always been important to me, in part because of her efforts.

Long story short, I found the above quote, created a poem around it, slapped it in a triptych frame with the picture in the middle. I even (gasp!) skipped the printer and wrote it by hand (boy has my handwriting deteriorated). Then, I read it aloud at her surprise party surrounded by friends and fellow teachers. It’s not my taste, per se, but the ladies were tearing up so I guess I got the audience’s taste right…which is really all that matters. Without further adieu:

________________________________

A doctor can’t be everywhere

I guess God just plumb forgot

Fast and fried

Climbing too high

We do many things knowing we ought not

But a doctor can’t be everywhere

A lobbyist can’t be everywhere

Though Congress may disagree

Fights the good fight

Even if we’re not right

Especially interested just in me

Yet, a lobbyist can’t be everywhere

A teacher can’t be everywhere

To fill in our blank slates

Lessons hard learned

Merits well earned

Knowledge you cannot imitate

Oh, a teacher can’t be everywhere

A priest can’t be everywhere

But this may be quite preferred

Yet problems abound

While doubts surround

Just tell me where I’ve erred!

No, a priest can’t be everywhere

No, these people can’t be everywhere

Superhero powers were mistaken

Save just one

Work never done

Won’t let her child feel forsaken

Yes, mothers can be everywhere

Retail therapy

Sun, 01 Jan 2012 21:23:00 -0500

I brought in the new year with a rum and coke (well, dr. pepper), french fries (these will be the death of me), and buying shit. It’s the ~~American~~ Western way. I rationalized it by the NYE deals and I had a $10 credit I needed to spend anyway. Though I don’t think the pretty white ladies are included…what a rip…I just ran out, too.

Life is what happens while you're making plans

Sat, 31 Dec 2011 21:44:42 -0500

Good fucking riddance 2011…you couldn’t have ended any other way.