At Some Point

Allow me to expound on my last post.

Sometimes I feel like I have all these people inside of me, all these different people with different dreams. They are all within the context of who I am at the core- an artist, a dreamer, a lover- but different manifestations the many facets of my personality. I suppose this is common. I think everyone is conflicted from time to time with contrary desires. That's why some people change majors twenty two times in the first year of college. Anyway, I thought of an idea recently to break up my life into 2 year sections where I do something different every 2 years. Or maybe not 2 years, maybe it'll just vary depending on what the thing is, but anyway, give all these people their time.

(the problem with this and the reason I probly won't actually do this is that music is pretty much #1 and that will always be there. But I think all of this as something that would go alongside.. or something.. whatever it's just fantasy..)

Here are a few:

AT SOME POINT in my life I'd like to go to a small town somewhere, buy or rent a little old house and maybe work in a cafe or something for a little money, and just make art all the time. it would be a little art haven. I could paint, decorate, sew, have a garden, sing, dance, make furniture, play piano, learn guitar. anything. i don't know why but i've been thinking about this one for a while. It'd be right off the edge of town and I would ride my bike everywhere. And I have to admit that in this one, I see myself married. I don't think it would be as fun alone. But think about it, just me and him, doing nothing. til we get restless then we leave. I'll be surrounded by flowers and air and wear cotton dresses and make soup from the vegetables in my garden. We'll listen to records and we won't have a TV. Life will be like summer- lazy, warm and slow.



AT SOME POINT in my life I'd like to live in New York City. At least for a little bit. This is the part where everything will be fast-paced and modern. I'll wear heels and embrace technology. I imagine myself having a cool job for some sort of designer or something. A New York young professional. A starbucks regular. Life will be like fall- wear a sweater and don't blink or you'll miss it.

At some point in my life #1

I will live in a Yurt in Colorado.

When He walks on water

Yesterday morning I went to church. The pastor spoke on Matthew 14 something, where Jesus walks on water. What a crazy and beautiful story. I thought it was a nice sermon. I nodded at all of his points and prayed for understanding and application. Consider the story for a moment. Jesus commands His disciples to get into the boat without Him, knowing that a storm awaits them. In the midst of that storm He walks 3 miles on water to meet them. Then Peter opens his big mouth and ends up walking out to meet Him. It says that when they got back into the boat, the storm was calm and they worshipped Him. Now, why would you ask for application of this story and expect anything less than earth-shaking? This did not occur to me this morning.

I spent the rest of the day with friends "watching" the football games, eating too much food, and laughing. I recognized mid-fun how blessed I am with the people in my life. I was particularly glad to see my friend, Andrew, and not just because he is the star of the rest of this post. I really truly remember being so glad that he was there. I haven't gotten to see him much lately.

Later that evening, the last few of us decided to go back to Andrew's house (where my brother and his brother live as well) and (planned to) watch South Park. We parted with a "see you there" but in fact, the next time I saw him was on the side of the road, staring into a ditch at the underbelly of his cadillac. I was baffled at the contrary states of the car and himself but he admitted the only thing hurt was his pride. Seems there was a moment of spinning and then he was upside down. He put the car in park, unbuckled and crawled out. Of course, the car had no such luck of coming out unscathed and staring down at it, we knew it would be an evening of tow-trucks, police reports and insurance company hold music. We didn't care. We knew what we had escaped and how differently the evening might be going if. We didn't talk about the "if"s or "could"s but the silence said it. I tried to keep my dramatic self at bay but I wasn't going to pretend. I hugged Andrew for a while and then let him tend to his upside-down car predicament.

Driving home (eyes glued on the road, hands at 10 and 2 of course), I began to give credit where I knew it was due.

"Thank you, God. Thank you. Thank you."

I let my mind settle into a state of gratitude for this and all the other times, whether known to me or not, that He has kept my family and people I love safe. I felt the weight of all the thanks I owed him and began to cry. Alone in a silent car, I felt open. I felt exposed and honest. I began to talk to God in a way that I haven't in a while. I said I was sorry for hurting Him and I didn't understand why he spared me hurt. Even saved me from it. He said it was because He loves me. I asked what I needed to do and He said, "Know that I love you." By definition, it is hard to know that someone loves you with an incomprehesible love but I felt a level of it and I asked Him to wrap me in it and for the 30 minute drive I sat in it. And I thanked Him for it. I sang and He listened.

When Jesus walked on water, the disciples were afraid. At His command their fear ceased with the storm and "those who were in the boat worshiped him, saying, 'Truly you are the Son of God.'" (Matthew 14:33)

Sometimes He whispers. Sometimes He walks on water. Maybe I wasn't hearing the whispering, but I saw this. Truly He is the Son of God.

Jake and Amir

This is ridiculous. I almost couldn't answer the phone cause i was laughing. Watch more here


Movie Debate from Amir on Vimeo.

This sh*t is bananas

I had a dream last night that my friend Travis was a bear-wrestler and that the owner of the restaurant I work at came over to my house and he liked my decorating and he was nice (if you knew him that would be funny), and then I was trying to talk about Ted's bananas to some other friends (one was Jonathan Aboites but I can't remember who else- and I'll fill you in on the banana thing in just a moment) but they didn't get it and there was something else weird I dreamt last night, what was it.... I can't remember, maybe it'll come to me later..

Anyway, bananas. If I'm holding a bunch of bananas, 5 to be exact, and I ask 2 people how many things I'm holding and one says ONE bunch of bananas and the other says FIVE bananas, then who is right? they can't both be right.. right? because 5 is not the same as 1, and I can't be holding 5 things and 1 thing.

Neighbor Ted was trying out some material on my sister and I last night for the Philosophy class he teaches at Vanderbilt. I gave him the thumbs up cause he sure got me thinking.

This initial banana situation didn't really get me going. I thought, you could do that with anything, I really don't see what the point is. Am I six body parts or one person? Is the child holding 25 crayons or 1 box of crayons. Both, depending on how you look at it. You can break down anything and talk about this. So I tried to turn it into a math equation.
1 bunch/5 bananas= 1 thing/X
If you are turning the noun "bunch" to the noun "thing" then you can't turn the noun "banana" to the noun "thing" because bunch does not equal banana. SO when Ted went straight to the statement "One thing is not the same as five things" perhaps he skipped a step. It's like if you are writing a story and using pronouns.

Ted went to the store. He bought some apples. Jim never goes to the store. He hates apples. Why did "he" buy apples if "he" hates them. Is that not a contradiction? No, because we know that the pronoun first refers to Ted because of the placement of it and then it refers to Jim because it follows the sentence talking about Jim.

So maybe using the word "thing" is similar. You could even make it more obvious. I own one car. I own 25 pairs of shoes. I own one thing. I own 25 things. But 25 is not equal to one. See?

However, I'm not a philosophy scholar so let's go with the implications of what Ted was talking about. If the possibility for this kind of seeming contradiction exists then doesn't that open the door for relative truth? That 2 people can believe two things that compete and both are correct?

Let's move on from that to the real mind-f*ck of last night. Ted tells us the story of Theseus's Boat. Here's my summary of Ted's version. Theseus sails out on a ship made of oak. Throughout his voyage he has to replace some of the wood planks and he uses teak wood. By the end of his journey, when he sails back in, he has, one by one, replaced all the old wood with new teak planks and tossed out all of the oak so that not one piece of the old wood remains. Is it the same boat?

Now, let's add to that. Along his journey a scavenger has been collecting all the oak planks and builts a boat with them that is identical to Theseus's. The scavenger sails in and docks his boat next to Theseus's. Did Theseus dock the same boat that he left with? Did the scavenger dock the boat that Theseus left in? Think of it like this- the boat that Theseus sails out in, made of oak, is A, the boat he sails IN in, made of teak, is B and the boat that the scavenger builts, made of the pieces of oak tossed out, is C. It is obvious that B does not equal C. But does A=B or does A=C? Of course many smart people have dicussed and pondered this and come up with theories and answers to this question and others about identity and persistence such as "whether one can step into the same river twice precisely because it continually undergoes changes". Read this: http://faculty.washington.edu/smcohen/320/theseus.html

This is somewhat of a response to this video:


Tyra Banks ‘shocked’ by teen sex crisis

Feeling shocked, saddened, overwhelmed or angry would not be an uncommon response to watching the news these days. It seems our emotions are the big red target of the media. They stir and move us with stories of sad children and lost puppies. They paste exotic-looking babies accross our screens, staring at us through large tear-filled "Precious Moments" eyes. We find ourselves racing to the store or the phone or to our checkbooks, or whatever the man holding the baby tells us to do, and we buy it or we sell it or we give it. Only then can we continue reading People Magazine guilt-free. Of course I'm half kidding. I do believe it's important for us all to be extracted from our bubbles and exposed to the very real suffering that is taking place outside of them. But there is a fine line- I'm getting way off track. All this was to say that out of all the bids for my tears today, this one wins. Maybe it's because I've been there; I've been a teenage girl, that is, and I know what it's like to have sexuality handed to you and not know what to do with it. I am thankful and recognize that I was lucky to have had the parents and friends that I had, though, and that in my church-going circle it was cooler to "save it". I think what it saved me was a lot of confusion and maybe even an STD or two. Anyway, I sympathize with the girls and it breaks my heart to see them searching for love and acceptance in this way. And that is what it is. Apparently Tyra and I share a passion. More power to her. My thoughts can't be helped from going in this direction however: In a recent post I talked about my own personal self-esteem issues and I'm not sure if I mentioned this, maybe I did, but I believe a large part of the struggle for me as of late has been spurred by a newfound obsession with America's Next Top Model. I wonder if other girls watching the show have had a similar reaction. Looking in the mirror, not appearing 5'10" and 125 and then experiencing dissatisfacation. Regardless of the encouraging voices that echo still from parents, friends, or maybe a loving man that made you feel like a supermodel or better yet, made you feel like you didn't need to look like one- regardless, you don't approve of the reflection and swear of sugar right then and there. I imagine I am not alone in this. I do consider myself a very self-assured, confident and strong women, which is why one day instead of vowing to deny chocolate, I told myself I'd be taking a break from ANTM. It has proved to be a good decision. Please understand, I don't believe there is anything wrong with the show. I still like it a lot and intend to catch up on what I've missed eventually but I will make sure and only have it in small doses. Just a personal decision to protect myself because apparently I can't quite handle it. That being said, and not to judge Tyra, I wonder how someone with such a passion for young girls' self esteem can be in an industry that promotes such unrealistic standards of beauty. You can reference my previous post for a discussion on the thin line between fashion as such and fashion as art. Consider this: If someone dedicates their life to rehabing alcoholics and spreading awareness about the dangers of alcohol and alcohol addiciton and this subject is their "passion", I would think that maybe they would stay away from alcohol even responsibly and in moderation as, if nothing else, an example. I would think that they would stay as far away from the line of hypocracy as possible so that no fingers would be pointed at them and their efforts would yeild spot-less results. If that is a stretch at least we can all agree that you would certainly not find them simultaneously in a beer commercial. Maybe that is not a fair parallel to draw. But I'd say that she is toeing the line a bit. She's certainly not miles from it. On the other hand, I love the way she treats the girls on the show and that a plus size model won last year. I love that when it come down to a bottom two in which less skill and more heart is pitted against a supermodel with a bad attitude, Tyra reveals her heart. I have no doubt that in the lives of the individual participants, Tyra is a positive voice. Is that enough, though, to mask the fact that for the "average", the non-model, on their road to a solid positive self image, the fashion industry is often a large stumbling block? Honestly, I'm undecided on this one. I could say no, that's an unexcusable contradiction, but what is the solution. Is Tyra Banks supposed to shun the industry that she was born from? Deny the people that have grown her and nurtured her into the woman that she is? Or was she wrong to ever be a part of it. I will go ahead and speak an opinion here and say no. She was given a set of gifts and talents that have gotten her to where she is- which is a point in which she has the authority and resources to speak positively into the lives of young girls. If I cannot provide a solution or at least an example of what would be a better situation then I'm not going to make accusations. I could discuss this forever and play all parts so to try and come to somewhat of a conclusion, I'd say that I believe that fashion is fun and it's a beautiful art form that can be distorted in both its delivery and perception. I support the efforts that Tyra is making to equip our youth and their parents with resources to understand and manage immature sexuality. Our sex-drenched media will not be parting any time soon, so I believe it's time for parents to aggressively reclaim the responsibility for the impressionable minds of their children.

One last thought for the day...

whaa?

With as much time as I have...

I should start one of those blogs where the writing is actually focused and about something and people read it. Cause I would have enough time to keep up with it, seeing as this is my 3rd post of the day and it's 3:00. But... nah.

So, I brought my music binder to work today to type up some of my lyrics and get things a little more organized for my sister and I as we work on things. I have tons of random little pieces of songs and bits of lyrics and poems and stuff in there and so I thought I might put some up. Some of it I read and think, wow, can you be any more dramatic? But oh well, what's life without a little melodrama huh? And more importantly, whats a song without it :)

Here's one bit:

So many lasts are known only in memory
So many firsts are not believed
And moments uncovered midst one of these
Leave scrambling souls with moments thieved

And another:

There must be a golden place
Just beyond the shock of pain and before comfort
Where remnants of disgust are breathed into power
And we find a change

Another still:

Mines, arranged in the shape of every step I take
I can't look away, because I'm so afraid
There's no one around, just shadows on the ground

Or is it that've not taken the time
To follow a shadow upward and find
Mouths and hands and hearts like mine
Poor and dirty and hungry and blind

More? ok:

Someone told me that was life, now they tell me it's this
And it's getting hard to find the real
Someone said "This is truth" then they said, "Well, give or take"
Give or take?
Can someone please speak with authority to me?
I will believe.

Don't you understand that I can't be right, if what you say is true
So, for once in your life, will you stand up and let me see all of you
Can someone please speak with authority to me?
I will believe.

Just one more:

I would let the trees tell me who I can and cannot be
before I would hear it from you
I'd have the stars let me know where I can and cannot go
before I would hear it from you
I think you and your misery maybe want some company

Siesta

I just got back from lunch and am feeling in need of a post-lunch nap. This got me wondering what it would be like if we had siesta in the US. My first reaction is that that would be awesome. But then my American-ness thinks that if we're gonna shorten the work day let's just leave earlier you know? Most days I see if I can just skip lunch and leave early or come in late. I usually bring my lunch cause I can't afford to eat out so I go to the kitchen and it takes me like 15 minutes to eat and then I sit there and try to think of what else I could do to fill up the next 45 minutes. And I'm not allowed to get overtime so I try to save errands to run or something. But i really wish I could've just come to work 45 minutes late! Anyway, on the other hand, it would do us all good I think to take things a little slower and to allow our day to play out and be long and full instead of rushing everything, "saving" time, and waiting til we want to cash it in for some R and R. Which surely never comes. We should take tasks one at a time, deal with the morning, take a moment to SIT and nourish our bodies with real food, allow it to digest, empty our minds and possibly even rest, then we open our eyes and only at that point do we consider the next set of tasks that the afternoon has for us. And when the sun sets in the sky we send our worries of the day with it and rest our hearts in contentment and our bodies in our beds to prepare for the next set tasks that tomorrow will bring.
Well, ideally, I suppose..

balls or no balls

Here's what ended up happening:

You can see it's not short. But I did color it. I decided not to make 2 drastic changes in one day. The color is actually slightly more red and not quite as dark as it appears in this picture. Anyway, I really like it.

It was a beautiful day yesterday so the sis and I took some pics outiside. I was reminded how much I want a digital camera. I love the camera I used for these because the pics come out with so much character and its not an Adobe filter. But it's just expensive to use film. Anyway, here are some faves:



































Ok that was more than a few...
There were a couple other good ones that I wanted to put up but couldn't get them turned.. Not sure how I got that first one to work and now the other ones aren't. Oh well..

If I Were A Boy

Today is a really weird day. And, unfortunately, not in a good way. I'm on my period, hung over, suffering from what I'm fairly positive at this point is a broken rib, and nursing the stiched up hole in my back from a biopsy. I've taken 4 advil but my headache persists. I am drinking a cup of tea right now to see if some caffiene would do my body good. I also did not sleep very well last night so that's been ailing me as well. I took a quick nap in my car during lunch and woke up what felt about half a second after I shut my eyes, groggy like a toddler. I surveyed my grey surroundings, remembered, and sunk into a somewhat dillusional and depressed state of mind. One of those moods where I feel like I'm in a different dimension than everyone else. Where things are a bit foggy like I'm viewing it all through an old window. What a perfect storm. What a shitty day. But Beyonce helped when I got back to my desk by having made this video- http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BVTyLqkez6A I'm not sure why that made me feel any better.. I just like it.

In case you were wondering green tea and starburst is not as bad of a combination as you would think.

Well, I guess I just have an hour left here.. Then it's off to job #2. Fridays are my long days.

I've been collecting pictures that inspire me for the "sister project". We still don't have a name for it yet.. Although, i probably wouldn't put it up here since I'm making an effort to keep this anonymous.. Here are some pics I've saved. These are things that ispire me in some way in regards to our promo shots/style/image/album cover and all that stuff.

Music

It's starting to itch bad. I NEED to be playing music. And NOT sitting here answering the phone. It's starting to burn. I'm surrounded by people who's livelyhood is singing/playing/writing/producing and I feel a very physical need to be a part of it. Like being hungry or thirsty. I went to see a friend's brother's band play last night and they were one of the most creative and quality groups I've seen in a while. My ears could hear that they were good, my eyes were pleased, and there were times that I felt like I was floating-the music high, but the thing that makes me certain that they were an amazing band is that they fueled my fire and as they played I was inspired with ideas and drive to push in the direction of creative sustanance. Mere and I worked a lot yesterday on music and I have a gig in about a month that I'd like to "debut" some of our stuff. My step-dad is gonna play drums/percussion for us for that show and then I was hoping I could get a guitar and bass player (i know a few) and have a band.. I think it'd be pretty rad. The music I've been writing lately really needs more. It's exciting. The closer I get, the more I can taste it, and I need it, and I work harder, and feel it more and then push harder still.

In other news, I'm slightly hung over, which sucks, cause I didn't think I drank THAT much last night... just a couple glasses of wine and a couple beers. but... I've got a little headache and I'm pretty exhausted.. I think I'm gonna do another alcohol break. Just for a bit, cut out the calories, extra monies and well, the hangovers... Although I have a whole box of wine at home.. So maybe I'll limit myself to one glass of that only a day. Ok, it's in writing so I have to now. How about a time frame? ok, um, we'll start with 2 weeks.

I've got my hair appointment tomorrow morning. so.. we'll see if I have the balls or not. I'm pretty much not deciding until I get there :)

Guess that's all for now, I'm listening to Allison Krauss, she's great.

i thank You God for most this amazing

i thank You God for most this amazing
day:for the leaping greenly spirits of trees
and a blue true dream of sky;and for everything
which is natural which is infinite which is yes

(i who have died am alive again today,
and this is the sun's birthday;this is the birth
day of life and love and wings:and of the gay
great happening illimitably earth)

how should tasting touching hearing seeing
breathing any-lifted from the no
of all nothing-human merely being
doubt unimaginable You?

(now the ears of my ears awake and
now the eyes of my eyes are opened)

e.e. cummings

Gliding Box of Death

"I can't believe morning came so quickly.." says my fellow traveller. We're on our way up to the 4th floor. Two strangers, trapped in a mirrored box. We cling to our separate corners like the floor is going to fall out. My eyes follow a door, floor, wall, ceiling pattern interrupted only momentarily to present the chubby blonde woman in business casual with as much of a smile and as my morning-fuzzy brain could create. A distant smile that probably came out looking like the face a toddler makes when they are.. well, putting their diaper to use. Now, the silence in that box is excruciating enough but when a pointless morning comment is released into it, it becomes unbearably toxic. I mean come on, really? you can't believe morning came so soon? what the hell does that even mean? it comes right about the same time every day.. Anyway, regardless of the content of whats been said, you're only option is to ignore it and run the risk of being crushed to death by its expanding presence as it balloons and reaches for all sides and corners of the tight space or you can neutralize it with a counter-comment. Feeling less than brave, I chose, "It always does.." And that was that. Floor 3.. Floor 4.. Thank God. And this is the point in which I tell myself, never again.. it's healthier to take stairs anyway.. you need some exercise. One previous elevator ride that induced this vow was one in which a very large sweaty man, staring relentlessly at the ascending floor numbers and dabbing at his forehead with a hankerchief, assured himself, outloud, that there's "just one more day" (it was a friday morning). Um, awkward. You poor man, are you really that miserable? I mean, maybe I don't know what I'm talking about but that doesn't seem like a socially acceptable elevator comment. Maybe if delivered with a wink and a smile, ok, but you have to understand that, in this moment, I felt true pannick to get out of that soul-sucking, sweaty-man-box or become like the poor fellow in Fight Club, nestled between man-boobs, urging him to "just let it out". So, to avoid having a "moment" with Bob I denied my natural response: "um.. dude? you ok?", held my breath and just left his comment lingering in the air, polluting and growing the uncomfortable silence. I bolted off the elevator and took the stairs for the next week. As I started to get lazy again, I began reintroducing the gliding people-carrier into my life. The silence, the comments, the eyes glued upwards, and my daily vow of stair-loyalty.. just routine. Topics of elevator interest include and are quite limited to: the weather, thank god it's friday, how many more hours in the day, how many more days in the week, the weather or a quick "hi how are you" as long as it's not presented as an actual question. Personally I prefer the silence. So, if you're ever in the elevator with me, please, just don't bother.

Strike a Pose

Sometimes I think I am too obsessed with how I look. This is embarassing to say because it seems so much cooler to not care. I try and tell myself I don't care what people think. And a lot of the time I don't. And in actuality I think my desire to be beautiful comes much more from an artistic standpoint than one of being concerned about my image. If that makes any sense.. What I mean is: I love fashion and art and style and beauty. I am an artist. While I do have a problem with the unrealistic physical standards projected onto women by the fashion industry (and let's not leave out the others responsible- Barbie, etc..), as an artist, I get it. The way the clothes drape across the boney silhouettes or flutter as if hung from 10 ft. poles. It's art, it's fashion. I love it. Because of this I often find myself dissatisfied with certain "curves" on my absolutely healthy and average, if not small, frame. You see, it's not because i want to wear a middrift top and show the world my six-pack, but rather achieve the look of skinny pants with a drapey top, or wear a retro dress that has a tapered waist, or pull off short hair, long hair, big hair. It's about versatility. Why do you think models look the way they do for the job they have? Their job is to sell clothes and they have to be a certain size to be able to make any and all designers' clothes look good and pull of any and all styles. This size just happens to be quite small. So, my point is that as a clothes and fashion lover, and since I dont have a professional model on hand to play dress up with, getting dressed in the morning is more to me than "what's the weather like?", it's expression and it's art. I've always been this way. I think I started dressing myself when I was 5.. Anyway, this is all fine and good but some flags have been popping up lately as I have noticed a shift in the depth of my concern. This "art" has become slightly more consuming and at times worrying and maybe even unhealthy. The difference is in moments when I look at myself in the mirror or in pictures and it doesn't look straight out of Vogue and that actually upsets me. THIS is wrong. Again, this is all embarrassing to admit but I feel like it is important for me to begin being honest with myself about it and since no one really reads this, it'll do.
My church is leading a womens' Bible Study on tuesdays (which I can't go to cause I work) called "No Other Gods". I wish I could go because that is what needs to be emphasized to me right now. Art is one thing and dissatisfation with myself, as a human child of God created in His image, is another. Here's where I get stuck though. Saying I'm beautiful because God thinks I am is about as helpful as my mother telling me I'm special. Thanks but I know you tell all your children that. And all mothers tell their children that and God tells all His children that. So we're all beautiful and special. Wow I feel so much better, don't you? See, I can tell myself all day what I "should" think and feel but I am just being very honest right now about the reality of my thoughts and feelings. And it is helping me to get this all out right now.. especially since i'm pretty sure no one reads this.. So, as I work this out, I think I see that there is a thin line between wanting the appearance of your body to participate in the art and expecting to look like Giselle. I consciously make decisions to sacrifice certain things for the sake of living a full life. You're not going to find me sitting at home in front of the mirror measuring my fat index while sipping ceyenne pepper and lemon; I'll be with my friends drinking beer. I may even have some greasy bar food if I am so inclined. I will also not be leaving early to get my beauty rest. Nope, if there are memories to be made, I'm in for the long haul. Also, a trait of mine since childhood. Therefor, in the morning, I will not be judging the dark circles under my eyes or the love handles that interrupt my attempt at a Vogue-worthy look. I will double up on concealer, pull on some Spanx and be thankful that I have such a full and happy life and amazing friends. And on certain days of the month.. I may just take down my mirror.

And The Winner Is...

Kate Lanphear

I won't pretend I haven't gotten this urge before but you know, I really think I might do it this time.. hmm... I need to find a really good hairstylist though cause I generally just have a friend do it.. sad I know. They are at least in hair school.. But I think I may actually pay for this one.. Maybe I could donate my hair too. That gives you an idea of how big of a deal this would be, my hair's pretty long. It'd be a fun change. And I would brighten up the red too. I'm gonna do it!
this is why i don't tell anyone about this blog, because i am fully aware that this would be boring to pretty much everyone. except maybe my mom..

Secret's out, i'm a girl

sooo.... I'm having a want-to-cut-off-all-my-hair moment..

(i realize this is my 4th post of the day, i'm sorry, i just have a very boring job.)

anyway, back to chopping off my hair, which i probably wont do, here are (more than) a couple ideas:
This is Sia, her music rocks too. I can't decide if this would look good on me though, but i think its adorable..

I think this one is my favorite:

Pretty sure if you look like this any hair cut looks good one you..

I seem to gravitate towards the blondes.. hey there's an idea.. maybe i'll go platinum! :)

nice.


Now.. for color? Let's be honest for a minute, i'm not gonna chop off my hair. BUT, i do want to liven up the color a bit so...
this maybe?

Weddings

What is the protocol on missing a friend's wedding? A good friend of mine is getting married this weekend in a different state and I just CANNOT afford to be there... We have been pretty close friends in the past but I don't see much of her anymore-because i now live in a different state. I've been procrastinating terribly dealing with telling her that i can't make it and now the wedding's this weekend! And last time I saw her she asked if I was going to be there and I said I'd try and she just looked at me sternly and like she was still waiting for my answer. Nervously, I revised it, "yes, I'll be there." "Great! I'm so glad." Um, hello? not made outa money here... So anyway, here I am, having given a verbal, though forced, RSVP, days away from the Love Fest and debating my options for my money as well as my friend. I'm sure she has many other things so worry about though than whether I am coming so I have that on my side.. Here are what I consider my options: Call her today and apologize or just send a wedding gift with a card.. eh? I dont know...

Here's the other wedding situation: Another friend, of a similar stature- friends for a long time, don't really see her anymore, is getting married on New Year's Eve and wants me to not only come but sing.. That's all fine and great and the good thing is that i really need to try and see my dad at some point over the holidays so that would work out but New Year's Eve?? man.. I've got people here to kiss you know? I'm sorry but that's just not my ideal way to ring in 2009- watching other people be in love. woo. BUT on the other hand, if I stay here I'll probably have to work so it'd be pretty anti-climactic anyway.. Anyway, I need to just accept the fact that I'll probably be spending my New Year's Eve with strangers and just hope for an open bar. and maybe a cute single boy who I'll never see again.. i'm sorry did i type that out loud? bad girl. But really, it could turn out to be a great New Years.. maaayybe i should try to get someone to come with me to Austin for it, that could be fun.. I can think of a couple possibilities... Ok, well after thinking all this out loud I think I realize what i need to do. Ooh and i could buy a new dress! Ok this won't be that bad afterall.

Box Wine

Judge if you must, but I think it's brilliant. 3 liters of wine for $10 and it doesn't taste like crap. And no air gets in at all so it lasts longer. I like to have a glass every now and then and it's perfect for that. So there. That is how I feel about box wine. In favor.

On the way to work I was listening to Radiohead and now I am listening to Feist, The Reminder, and both have satisfied me sufficiantly and enriched my day. I really like Feist's previous album, Let It Die, and I thought "1,2,3,4" was a cool song when it came out but i hadn't listened to the whole album. Apparently someone uploaded it to the computer i'm on at work, so now I shall see what it's all about. So far so good. I'm really feelin the song "My Moon, My Man".

I'm not going to talk about the election.

Well, i'll just say one thing, thank God it's over cause my head was about to explode from bullshit overload.

So, I think I need to rename this blog "The Sylvia Chronicles" cause pretty sure thats all i talk about now.. I promise I'm not usually like this, I'm not a freaky pet owner. Although my sister and I joke that i am a "cat mom".. Generally, she just does her thing and i do mine and sometimes we cuddle.. But now that she's gone it really sucks! Anyway, here's the story i was prefacing: Yesterday morning I get an email saying that someone found a grey cat downtown and he sent a picture and it looked almost exactly like Sylvie. I was so excited, but there were a few things that didn't completely fit with his description. And it would have been pretty far for her to travel in just a week.. But I went to see. And was disappointed. And am now back to clueless and guilty.

Still no Sylvie :(

No sign of her yet.. my cat, Sylvia, that is. She's been missing for a week today. I feel pretty hopeless about this whole thing even though people tell me "oh my cat was gone for 6 weeks and then came back", but why the hell would she want to do that and where is she?? I also have to admit to feeling a little guilty too. Because i think i don't have the time to really look for her, and i haven't completely halted my life for the search. I think I'm also avoiding grief. I'd really like to find her but if I'm not going to I really just want some closure. Is this silly? I know she's just a cat but you know you really get used to those little creatures and the silly little things they do to drive you crazy or make you smile.... Like how she would sleep til i woke up and then get up with me.. and she would sleep under the covers with her head out like a person.. and her meow, oh my goodness, annoying as hell... we always said she was a model kitty cause she was so petite and truley a pretty cat with beautiful green eyes and she always had this very alouf look on her face.

Well, to change the subject. Some crazy shit happened to follow up the Sally and Annie story. So crazy that even though this is an annonymous blog i'm still not gonna talk about it. I'll sumarize by saying large amounts of alcohol and some damaged relationships. How very unfortunate...

I'm only at work for 7 more minutes so my last comment will be that this was one great Halloween. I thought of a last minute costume and it was a HUGE hit. It was hilarious.. And my friend threw an amazing party and even though i had to get there very late because of work there were still a lot of people there and it was a freaking blast.. And there were some of the most politically incorrect costumes i've ever seen, we had mexicans, a jew, Jesus, some Arab guy...

ok, time's up.