Oh, bother.

An open letter to a boy I'd very much like to date, but who, right now, is just plain pissing me off: 


You're a "sad panda," are you? Seriously?


Well, you know what would help with that? Talking to someone. Someone who really cares about what you feel and think and desperately wants to be there for you and help you NOT be sad. You DO realize that moping around and being sad on Facebook achieves two things: 1) It makes you look pitiful and 2) It makes me feel EXACTLY LIKE YOU'RE FEELING... except with some anger and active frustration mixed in. The only person making you a sad panda is YOU, because I sure as hell want to make you happy. I certainly cannot force you to be interested in me, but damn. You should be. It would sure solve a lot of our mutual problems. So give me a break and quit being an idiot. If you're going to persist in not being interested, the least you could do is man up a little and TELL ME you're not so I can quit wasting my energy being smitten with you. I feel like can't do any more than I already have: I drove a lot of hours to see you for not much time and support your endeavors AND give you presents... and I have heard nary a word from you since then. I think you are simply delightful and, frankly, pretty much everything I have ever been looking for, so QUIT BEING RIDICULOUS and whining about how no one cares about you and get with the frakking program. If there is something I should be doing that would make a difference, I really wish I knew what it was. I live to serve.



 -me






 
via

Direction

It's getting to the point in my life where I am feeling like I am supposed to be doing something else. This is approaching last 6 months in OKC proportions. I hated life so much during that time, and I could tell that it was unequivocally a direction from the universe to get out of there. As soon as I left, life was immediately better.




As much as I love equally, but differently, both jobs, this is getting to be too much of a pain to make them work together with each other. Maybe it's because I'm disorganized or frazzled or too busy or whatever, but it's too much for me. Ideally, I'd like a 20-25 hour a week office job that is the SAME. Every week. And then work at one of the other jobs to fill in the gaps (I know which one I'd pick, but I'd rather not say and somehow jinx myself).



Don't Get Married Without Me - Punch Brothers


This song sounds so cool to me. I keep listening to it over and over. Not really relevant, I just like it. Oh, and there's the opera, too. Oof. This is one of those moments where I am just waiting on a definitive statement from the universe as to which direction I am supposed to move. Because change is a'comin'. I can feel it....

I have enough friends.

Also this:




and by extension, this:

The Waiting Game

Welp, I haven't blogged in forever, but I feel like being a whiner. This thing is better than Twitter, because I feel like practically no one reads it. This way, I can be as self-indulgent as I want and I don't even care! Yippee!


So, I feel like I am perpetually waiting for something. I have felt like that for years, really. In a short term sense, I am always waiting on the next paycheck/holiday/gig/audition/whatever to happen. In broader terms, waiting for my potential recital in January. Waiting for May. Waiting to see what will happen in a few months. Maybe nothing. Maybe everything.



Lordy. Seriously, how cliché and rambly do I sound right now?! A lot. But that's what happens when you spend every day of your life waiting for the other shoe to drop. You just try desperately to be alright with this one shoe. To know that this shoe is pretty good, it's probably your favorite shoe you've ever had. And you hope that you get to keep it and that it will all be wonderful. The thing is, when that other shoe does drops (and it will... eventually), it could be awesome. It could even be the best thing ever. It could also be the most painful and horrible thing you've ever dealt with (which is saying something).

Waiting is horrible. But, as I have been doing my whole life, I'd rather just sit here with this singular shoe and not rock the boat. Because experience has taught me (on more than one occasion) that rocking the boat gets you nowhere but exactly where you don't want to be. Tenuously clinging to this one shoe is at least half hopeful. Once you get the other one (and it's almost always as bad as you had fervently hoped it wouldn't be), then you're stuck with it.


Total Schrödinger's cat.


This is the point in the waiting cycle that I just need to cram a LOT of stuff into every day so I don't think about that shoe so damn much. It's essentially impossible to do that, but I'm going to give it my best shot. I could use the money, anyhow.


With any luck, I'll get this job I interviewed for today. I haven't sold jewelry in a long time, but being in there today to interview, I actually missed it. All of the romance and love and gushiness that goes with jewelry is so good to get swept up in. More living vicariously through other people, but what are you gonna do? I am really hoping that I stayed in the jewelry selling business because I liked selling it and not for anything else.


A song for good measure:



Many the Miles - Sara Bareilles

Not Sleepy Thoughts

"I don't think people are meant to be by themselves. That's why if you actually find someone you care about, it's important to let go of the little things, even if you can't let go all the way. Because nothing sucks more than feeling all alone no matter how many people are around."

- Dr. John Dorian

I am quite accustomed to being a third wheel. I like to think that I'm not too awkward about it and that I handle it with an amount of grace most of the time. Here lately, though... it's reaching a breaking point. I know that I am beginning to sound like a desperate, crazy person, but for real. I love all of my friends, it's just that they're all IN LOVE with each other and I feel like a bigger and more hopeless disappointment to myself after each time we all hang out.

I think the thing that frustrates me so much about it is that I can't force it to happen any faster than it just will. "It" being meeting a dude I can stand to talk to for more than 30 seconds that doesn't find me repulsive. I've started to have these really disconcerting thoughts lately like, "Maybe I just never will meet anyone. Maybe I'll just be alone forever," and let me tell you what, that will put a damper on your day in a hurry. I have just never had that thought occur to me. I will get married. I will have kids. These haven't been optional life occurrences. But, again, I can't do it by myself and I suck so bad at the meet, chitchat, play the game part that my future is looking rather bleak at the moment. Anyway, just venting my thoughts to the internet again.

And more bad news: One of my very favorite websites drop.io is closing because Facebook bought them. I am incredibly sad about this and that also means that after December, you won't be able to hear or download the music on my blog. As it is, I can't upload anything new, either. Luckily, this was already on a different drop.



Ghosts - Laura Marling

Hopefully, I can find a suitable substitute. :(

An update and some whining

Ok, as the title suggests, this is going to be an update and then some whining. So here we go:


Update:

1) I moved to San Marcos, TX! This is wonderful on SO many levels. I LOVE it here. Here being Texas. I mean, I like San Marcos just fine, but after living in Oklahoma for three years, my self just needed to be back. It was so very time.

2) I have an amazing job here! I am a sales rep for decorative plumbing, which might sound familiar. It should, er... surely I've mentioned the plumbing thing.... anyway, my new Bosslady and her family are AMAZING and I just can't say enough nice things about them and all they are doing for me in this very new to me job.

Whining:

1) I am sunburned. Ouch. I never get sunburned!! Not because I am particularly immune to it; quite the contrary (I am almost certain that I was the whitest person at the river today). I just never go outside. So... yeah. That's not fun.

2) Remember my big bunch of changes? Well.... I have pretty much failed at all of them. I gained my 20 pounds back, I sleep in until just before I need to be awake and my nails aren't pretty anymore. About the only thing left of my fabulous eating habits from the beginning of the year is that I still just drink water. That is actually kind of nice, but to be back at the old weight AND just drinking water.... oy. I hate that there is always something. You know what I mean? Now that I'm back in Texas with a killer job that I am excited about and living on my own (which is wonderful), I am eating poorly, unmotivated to lose the weight because being skinny is hard and my starter in my car may be going out. When I was skinny and eating great and had plenty of money, my roommate hated me and I didn't want to be at my apartment ever and I had all the crazy school stress. Not to mention the varied states of singleness I've been floating through since January. And I haven't sung since... my recital? Wow. I guess not. And my paper, while mostly done, is not quite finished. That thing is seriously the bane of my existence. Any volunteers to write one more paragraph for me?

...Seriously, though. Email me.

Anyway, back to the fatness thing, last time that I got on track with this eating healthy deal, I was crazy. I planned every day in a crazygirl spiral notebook (down to what I would eat and when), went to bed REALLY early, woke up REALLY early, worked out every day... so I guess I'll get back to that. Like I said, I can't really say that I was any happier when I was skinnier. I was working my ass off to be that way and not really eating the food I like- the bad for me food. I guess in the same way that one sometimes falls away from the faith and starts lovin' the sinnin' lifestyle, I need to read my Bible and pray every day to get back on track. I want to lose 40 pounds. I lost 20. I was halfway there!!! I feel like I'm continuously about 5 or 6 months away from being as skinny as I want. Feasibly, I'd be in the shape I want just in time for Christmas only to start the vicious cycle all over again. Oh well, I guess that's just the way it always goes, huh? Time to work out and then go to sleep (after a little time with my crazygirl notebook, of course).


Also... saw this- Love it.



via

A Letter to Seester

Dear Seester,


I love you. You are my favorite sister, but seriously. I would really rather you not respond to my random inside joke text with a phone call telling me how you're out with all of the people I'd love to be out with but can't because I A) don't live in Wichita Falls anymore and B) don't have to extra fundage to go down there every weekend. I would also appreciate it if you would refrain from telling me the stories reinforcing how you're the dangerous, mysterious, and cool sister. I know you are. It's painful enough just being the boring, straight-laced, un-adventurous one, but you letting me know that the guy who has been my go-to crush on guy since fourth grade said that you're "super f*&^ing hot" was almost over the line of what I can reasonably handle. Even if it doesn't seem like it bothers me or matters, it does; on both counts. I'm not the cool one. I'm okay with it most of the time. I'd like it if you didn't rub it in...

*sigh*

-§

picture via

Worklife.

Ready to take a ride on my train of thought? Here we go!

Working on Project 1 ->
Look up something on the internet ->
Get distracted and work on Project 2 ->
Look up something else on the internet ->
Realize I'm being scattered ->
Wish I was better focused and think about that I need to get myself medicated for ADD ->
Remember that I don't have health insurance at my new job ->
Ponder life and how much it's going to cost versus what I will be making ->
Wonder if I'll have enough money to get medicated ->
Think about how cool/productive life would be if I WAS medicated (or at least the option) ->
Remember that I'm supposed to be working ->
Repeat from beginning.



So... that's life today.

Trapped.

Trapped here like rats! Small little rats with no hair and one leg! (Oh yeah. I went there.)


I am trapped. Pretty much every way a person can be trapped... well, without actually being trapped, I suppose. Ready for my, er... trappings?

My roommate hates me.
This is both okay and not okay. I have been where she is, and knowing this, there is nothing I can do to make her happy or make her hate me less. Everything I do, no matter how irrational, is going to drive her insane. Knowing this makes it slightly easier to live in my apartment. The biggest thing is that while I have felt that way before, I can't recall being rude or mean to whoever I felt that way about. It's unnecessary and petty, but I have no fight in me. Mainly because that's just not how I operate, but also just because I have been trying to alleviate stress on the situation for months and I am exhausted. She will never see or know or frankly, care, but I have done all I can do. It's time to part ways, and thankfully that will be soon.

This boyfriend thing.
I started this sentence 4 times because I don't know what to say about it. I like hanging out with the guy, I love his family and his friends and he is very good at being a boyfriend. I don't want to not have those things, but I really don't think I want to date him anymore. I know there is a relatively black and white solution, but I'm lame and he is so very good to me... I just... I have this fear that I am too picky. With each passing day/month/year (oy), I want to think that I'm waiting to not settle. Waiting so that I can have the best life I can have. Having not really found it yet, I am starting to get this gnawing feeling that I'm holding out for some Holy Grail that I will never actually find. And then I'll just be alone and not settling by myself, which isn't any good either. I don't want to settle, but I don't want to be alone forever, either, so where's that breaking point?

My apartment is a warzone.
Remember how my roommate hates me? Well, I don't like being at my apartment. It is such a hostile environment that I would rather be pretty much anywhere else. I'm probably going to put a bunch of potatoes (don't judge me; I eat them every day for lunch, anyhow) in my car and stay at one of my places of employment until bedtime. Then go home and go to sleep. I'll get my laundry and regular life stuff done on Saturdays when she's working, or possibly on Sundays when she's off and out with her friends. That baffles me... if she has friends (which she does), why doesn't she hang out at their place? I can't imagine she likes being at the apartment- but then again, I may just be projecting MY incredible sense of discomfort and hostility onto her and assuming she feels that, too. Anyway, I don't feel welcome in my own dang apartment. That is the point of this one.

I can't talk to anyone.
I know that's not totally true, but, again, who would I normally talk to about my roommate situation being awful and feeling like crap and not wanting to go home? Boyfriend. Or Twitter, or Facebook, but for various reasons, again, little Bloglette, you're basically my only refuge. Thank you, blog-o-whatever, for being here for me to spill my guts to when my head is pounding and I can't think of any other way to try to assuage the ache than to just talk about all the garbage that's bothering me.

Since roommate will move out in June sometime, I believe, hopefully my life will brighten then. I auditioned for Pensacola Opera this past weekend, and while it was a fun trip to get to see my friends, it was a not so good audition since I was still not firing on all vocal cylinders. If they're grading on potential, I might have a vague shot at getting in. I am not optimistic.


So, yeah. A good week....

I did hear this artist and I think I have a new favorite. Sort of in the vein of Hem, Alison Krauss and others. I am too lazy right now to link them.


I Wonder What is Keeping My True Love This Night - Kate Rusby

What makes a good friend

A friend of mine (who shall remain nameless, but I think you know who you are) once asked me how he could be a better friend. He was/is notorious for being a little flakey, so that was really the only thing I could think of to tell him: quit being so flakey. But I was thinking about it this morning, and I have revised my answer.

There is the sort of common sense, Golden Rule, "Do unto others" philosophy, but I would take it a step further. I'll use the friend I was talking about for my example. With this particular friend, I think I can safely say that he considers me a really good friend. Why? Because that's how I treat him. I don't think that at any point he could say he doubts whether I am his friend or not because the actions and words and what-have-you that are directed at him make him feel like he is important to me and that I care about his well-being. Now, how does he make himself a better friend? Treat ME the same way! That's all there is to it! The more instances that I question how much he values the friendship, the less I feel like I am important to him. Why would a person who feels like they're important to me treat me with an imbalance of priority? Well, there is a degree of selfishness to this, but there is also just laziness. Friendship, like any other relationship, requires effort. The more effort one puts into it, the more you'll get out of it. You'd think diminishing returns would have bitten me in the ass a long time ago, but eh. I try not to let someone else determine my level of contribution to any relationship. That's called being passive aggressive and it's unnecessary, not to mention reeeally annoying.



So..... in short, to be a better friend... be a better friend.


(This kind of turned into a giant bitchfest, and I didn't intend for it to do that. Oh well. I'm going to post it anyway. So there!)


Bah! And in searching for a picture to go with this, I am reminded of THIS bit of genius which, somewhat ironically, fits better than I'd usually admit.



BIRDIES!

Another pretty song and me whining about crap

Blargh.


I know I keep saying, "I'll start posting again, soon. I promise," and then vanish for weeks? I had my fingers crossed, I guess. Sorries. And there's nothing to report, really. There may be soon (with pictures and everything), but for right now, it's just time to get through the rest of the semester and find out about this stupid boy.



It's always a boy, isn't it?

ugh.

Corner - Allie Moss

One of those damn days

I feel SO whiney today. Everylittlething that happens is just irritating the CRAP out of me.

Example:

When I come into work, if there are messages on the phone, when you pick up the phone you hear *blip, blip, blip, blip* instead of the usual dial tone. There are never more than, like, 2 messages, but that *blip, blip* noise just makes me NUTS!

This is not world ending, it is just annoying. But it's also pretty much the only thing I actually DO at work: returning calls and fixing their little problems.

Ok, this needs a list-


How you can be certain that today sucks:

• Messages on the phone so there's that noise...



• The bandaid on my thumb keeps falling off. This is driving me crazy. (I gave myself what amounted to a mutant papercut... but I did it with a knife, so I guess that makes it a knife wound. Whatever. It was all for the rainbowcake.)



• I have no money to speak of, so I am checking my mailbox twice a day for my IRS refund check. Dad paid for my taxes to get filed, but my sister messed it up, so we had to file a correction or something, and it's taking FOREVER.



• The absence of the refund thing is seriously disappointing about twice a day, but it's almost as bad to have nothing in the mailbox at all, which is also usually the case.



• My fat pants fit. :'-(



• I have to sit at my work work (the office job) for the afternoon and then immediately go to Victoria's Secret (which is much harder work, actually) and stay until who knows when because since Semi-Annual Sale started yesterday, the place is going to be a wreck.



• There is no drinking water at work. I even brought a little snack. What did I bring? Salty chips. I forgot water, so no snack and I'm thirsty.



• Back to the no money thing, I have been subsisting on pasta for a while. On the surface, this looks like a great idea, as pasta is arguably my favorite food ever. This morning, I literally didn't want to eat pasta at all, ever. This is distressing.

Uugh. I have pictures to post of Rainbowcake (which was a great success, by the way), but I don't feel like it.

I am in such a funk!! I'm sorry, guys, but that's all I have for you today: a buttload of whining. This is one of those days that I want to just get through it, then go home and sit with the boy until I go to sleep (Won't get that either. That's a looong drive...)

Anyway, I'll give you a song that sounds like how my day feels. I didn't even look at the lyrics, I'm talking about the sound of it.



Everblue - Mandy Moore

I am not a scholar.

Clearly, as what I was deeming a "kickass" paper just got ripped to shreds and didn't even get a passing grade (Yeah, sad story- I'm going to talk to the prof tomorrow). In trying to figure out how I could possibly have so grossly misjudged my paper and its worthiness, I have sort of stumbled onto this truth:


I am not a scholar.


This is not really news to me, but it hasn't been so apparent (and annoying) until recently. Lots of my prof's comments on my not-so-"kickass" paper are things like "why?" and it's sort of been like that (though much less) before. Also, my presentation sort of went down that way, too, with everyone asking why things were like that or why they did it that way. Here's the thing... for me, personally, I don't care why most anything is anything else. Most of my beliefs about... well, most things (most, most, most) are that way. I don't feel the need to know why, why it is the way it is, where it came from, about.... anything. Basically, I'm of the opinion that if it works, it works and that's all I need to know. Honestly, the way my brain processes things is a lot of the problem with regard to this specific class. I simply do not approach the information in this class the way I'm supposed to, and I don't think I can, either. Not without hand holding and lots of help because, I have never been trained to think about anything like this and probably even less helpful for the purposes of this class, since I have no desire to be good at this, it's impossible for me to even try to figure it out. Call it lazy if you want. I can only view it as an intense waste of energy, as I just have a really hard time with it and it will be of little (if any) use to me in the future.

It's sort of like me and subtlety. My whole world is basically the opposite of subtle. So when, in art of any kind (music, film, visual art), the point, the part I'm supposed to "get," is subtle... count me out. If you tell me what the point is, I can go, "Oh, yeah. Cool," and I will understand it, but I will rarely, if EVER, get it on my own. That's just the way it is. I have accepted this and it doesn't bother me. I just know this about myself. This concept feels like this class, where when he explains it to me, I understand it and know why it was wrong, but I would NEVER have seen that initially, which is why I turned whatever assignment it was in at all. If I had known that it was terrible, why would I have turned it in, or generated it in the first place?

The moral of this story is that if I'd wanted to be a scholar, I would have gone to a different school. I want to be a performer, and that is something they teach here pretty effectively.

Sad paperclip here

This was kind of lengthy. Sorry. However...

I'm about to watch a movie with someone a timezone away, which always makes life feel better.

ACK!

I don't know what the deal is, but stuff that usually doesn't bother me is just going all OVER me today! I'm just feeling weirdly off kilter or something (yet, somehow Clive down there does make it a little more OK...)

Either way, I'm going to .... FRAK! I just remembered homework. And right when I wanted to listen to some opera (mood doesn't exactly strike me often).


I wish people weren't so "unreachable". They usually always make me feel better.


hahaha... but, seriously.

I AM an Opera Singer.

Opera singers sing.


If I had to describe myself in a word, it would probably be loud. I am one of the loudest people I know, as far as sheer volume of sound produced, and while I know that it is mostly just obnoxious, I choose to believe it is endearing on some level. And professionally, it's very useful. I have lived in 3 different apartment complexes and a duplex and have never had anyone say anything negative at all about me making a LOT of noise practicing or what have you.



Until about half an hour ago.


My neighbors next door (not upstairs, ironically) were actually knocking on the wall as if to say, "Hey! You in there singing. SHUT THE #@$% UP!"



It is not late. I am not bad. I will probably only sing for 15 or 20 minutes before I get bored. This is my house. This is what I do.





Please don't throw a rock though my window....... :'-(


Tallulah Carter in Hotel Casablanca







Two Cake themed titles in a row in honor of Cakefest 2009! Wooo!!

The Essentials

This could not be more amazing



Delicious Dinner: check
Easter Candy: check
Laptops: check
Cell Phones: check


Fabulous Girlfriends: double check



Did we get our papers written? Nope.
Does that matter?


not at all

For Kelly

Because I know you will love this so much:


They say, best men are moulded out of faults;
And, for the most, become much more the better
For being a little bad.

- William Shakespeare,
"Measure for Measure", Act 5, scene i