People.

I hate them.

Okay, well, maybe "hate" is a strong word. I'm "bothered" by most people, I wish I could "forcefully ignore" more people, I wish everyone I "didn't like" would just disappear into a hole forever... but if that happened, honestly, we'd probably be missing most of the population of Mason Gross.. and that would clearly be such a tragedy.

This isn't a new thing for me, but I feel like I'm being aggravated quite a bit lately by people and their nonsense and their whining and their needs. I mean, c'mon already, do I really give the impression that I care? Really? Me?!

Apparently I need to lay it out -

Your. needs. are. not. my. concern. If you're not relevent to my future, not adorable, not an obsessive Merlin fan, not toting a plush toy, or not Kate Black, I. don't. care.

Really.

I don't.

Don't confuse my ability to play the game for actual concern and if you're reading this and questioning if I actually like you, I probably don't. The people I love know that I love them. End of story.

I really hope I've cleared up some of the confusion now.

Now, I'm going to go read some fanfiction, work on a hat, and maybe, just maybe, get some sleep.... but let's not get ahead of ourselves. Sleep is for people who don't go to theatre school... or have Merlin obsessions.

Reality check.

You know what I want?


I want the guy who runs around the kingdom saving everyone from mortal peril with no thought for his own life or the fact that he will receive no recognition for what he does.

I want the guy who loses his entire family because his stepmother decides to destroy them in a fit of rage and instead of allowing himself to become bitter and broken, devotes his life to helping complete strangers.

I want the guy who is so afraid he's going to hurt an already broken kingdom that he denies his birthright and goes on a seemingly doomed quest to save the world the only way he knows how.


I think it's obvious I've been immersing myself in a few too many fantasy stories... stories where men are real men - stories where men are heroes, unselfish and unflinching, capable of loving and appreciating those who love them in return. And while I suppose having a Merlin marathon right now isn't the best idea, I can't help myself. I really wish I lived in a world where men like that are everywhere. You know, men who care about you regardless of the fact that you're half a flying panther or being followed around by creepy bounty hunters.

Unfortunately, guys like that don't exist in abundance in real life like they do in fairy tales. The problem is, women think they do. Women like to think that every guy they meet is their Prince Charming in disguise, that they can somehow reform every douchebag they find drooling on themselves in a bar into the man of their dreams.. women are hopeful, optimistic and completely unrealistic morons. Truly, we are. Instead of running around thinking every guy with a handsome face or a good opening line has the potential to be our soul mate (if we can only save them from themselves and all those nasty habits they have, that is), what we all should be doing is trying to find men who are already worth it, who already deserve us, who are already heroes.

So ladies, get yourself a big bowl of popcorn and a glass of wine (not from a box.. self-respect is key in this scenario.) and pop in Lord of the Rings so that the next time you find yourself pining over some loser who is under the impression that it's a-okay to ignore you or drop off the face of the earth or chase after other women when you're clearly interested because you'll obviously always come back for more, you'll be able to say to yourself "Aragorn would never do this to me" and motivate yourself into going out and finding someone who isn't a complete shit.




And now I'll end this post with this gratuitous picture of Colin Morgan:

yum!

New Year?

Really?
But.. but what if I don't want a new one? I made such a downright mess of last year I had, I don't think I want the responsibility of having to deal with a whole new one! That's like giving a new car to a blind retard and expecting them not to run into a burm the second they change gears. Giving me a new year is such a bad idea. Seriously. SUCH a bad idea.


[Author's Note: I have no idea what to write as a second paragraph. I've tried writing about all of the good things that happened last year, but it got a little ridiculous and irritating. Then I thought "Hey, maybe I'll try outlining all of the things I have to look forward to this year!" but that got a little ridiculous and irritating too. So now you're stuck reading this author's note and wasting your time as I blather on about my writers block. Maybe it's not writers block though, maybe I just don't feel the need to pander to anyone or inundate the few readers I may have with long lists of things they probably don't care about (and that I don't really care to tell them). Maybe it's enough to say that last year kind of sucked, but there were some definite high-points that made it all worth it. Honestly, I don't know where I'd be if I didn't have my weekly adventures with Kate Black, my birthday wouldn't have been half as good if I didn't get to wander around the city and have a suprise sleepover with my Chino... really, honestly, there's nothing like knowing you have the most amazing friends in the world who are going to support you and love you no matter what you get yourself into. And considering how frequently I manage to get myself into some serious shenanigans, it's nice to know I'll always have backup, people to drink or cry with... someone to buy calico critters and chase baby owls with, someone to eat copious amounts of food with, someone to play Wii tennis and shop for funny hats with, someone to watch movies with that have hot, aging British actors in them..... Friends are the best and they make even the worst times worth it. Maybe this author's note wasn't so blather-y and useless after all. Maybe this post should have just been about friendship all along.]

What to do.

What do you do when everything turns out wrong, your car has made it very clear that it is only going to work when it feels like working and every muscle in your upper body is throbbing because you decided you were going to go on an uber-crazy crocheting kick the weekend before portfolio review?

You say "Fuck it, it's Christmas."

Seriously. This is the only time of year that phrase actually applies so use it, and use it often.

You push through the pain and finish your projects, you survive portfolio review (barely, most likely) and then you get wasted and celebrate the holidays with people you actually like (and who like you quite a bit as well.) Things aren't that bleak. Really. How can they be when you've got a giant tree sitting a few feet away from you and ornaments sprawled all over the floor? Men suck and I'm intolerable - big surprise there - but shelving all that until after the holidays is the best possible thing I can do because, by the time new years rolls around, I know for a fact none of it will mean a damn thing. I'll always be who I am - maybe someday I'll find someone who appreciates me and if not, there are tons of homeless cats I can adopt to fill that void. And I really love kittens so that's not a big sacrifice there. I mean, really people, how could you not love kittens?!? THEY'RE SO SQUISHABLE!
Anyway, I'm getting off topic here. The fact of the matter is, Christmas has this wonderful way of making everything better and I'm planning on taking full advantage of that fact. This week is going to be awesome. Stay tuned for updates.. and maybe even pictures of my finished projects.. if they don't get stolen out of New Theatre that is by whatever jackass thinks it's a-okay to wander off with other people's stuff while they're busy *gasp* doing work in the theatres. I hate people. Not kittens though. Definitely not kittens.

Oh so silly..

I am an idiot.
Seriously.
This day, this very moment in fact, proves it.

I'm sitting here, almost 1 in the morning, with curlers in my hair and goodies cooling in the kitchen wondering if I've done enough to be appealing. Seriously. Yeah. I'm an idiot. Even more so because honestly, at this point this entire situation has gone from making me feel incredibly special and pretty and interesting to making me feel like a worthless whore and I'm still cranking out baked goods. I still care. I'm still trying.

What the hell is wrong with me?
There aren't even words to describe this level of stupid.

I keep trying to rationalize the whole thing by saying that if this were just a physical thing, there are easier women than me to get that from so it must be something more! He must like me! Yeah! Sure. [cue sardonic look]

Perhaps some back story will provide the answer... December, in recent years, has had an incredibly odd effect on me.. I feel profoundly lonely. Absolutely, almost desperately, lonely and I try to fill that void by giving as much as I can and hoping that other people's happiness will just rub off on me eventually. Either that or I hover around the spiked punch. In both cases though, I'm trying to compensate for something I'm lacking.

Maybe that's what I'm doing here.
Or maybe I'm just hoping that one of these days I'll start to feel special and pretty and interesting again.
Or maybe I'll just never learn my lesson.

It's that kind of day.

Today was long.

Really really really long.

The sad thing is, I generally don't have a problem with Wednesdays, but today, for some reason, insisted on being problematic. It's like someone somewhere decided that today was going to suck and I was just going to have to hold on tight and wait for the ride to be over. And hold on I did - despite the fact that I forgot half of my life at home this morning and spent the rest of the day trying to make up for it. Also, people can be really creepy sometimes and that certainly didn't help things.

All in all, today calls for Harry Potter fanfiction and a really large mug of tea.



Also.. this picture is hilarious. Just sayin. [Insert joke Lucius Malfoy/pussy-cat joke here]

Mystery solved.

I always ask myself why it is that every guy that's interested in me treats me like shit. Today, though, I finally figured it out.

Answer: Because every nice guy that's interested in me, I treat like shit.

Oh yes.

It's classy.

And oh so attractive, I might add.

I wish I could provide some deep psychological insight into why I am the way I am, why I ruin every good thing, why I have some pathological need to hurt anyone who tries to get close to me. I wish I had a good excuse. I wish I hadn't become my Father circa 1999.

I could say I was scared to let anyone get close to me, but this isn't a Lifetime movie. I could say that I expect even the nice ones to be secretly trying to make a break for it and I've decided to hurt them before they hurt me, but I'm 20 years old and that's a revenge plot that sounds like it was hatched by a grade-schooler. I could say that I'm just unlovable, but I have people who love me very much and I don't spend my time constantly alienating them. I could stay all of those things... some of them may be true, but that doesn't make them okay.

Maybe romance just isn't my thing. Maybe I'll just say that. Maybe It's my destiny to bounce from shitty guy to shitty guy until I'm old and gray and left with nothing but my bitterness to keep me warm at night. I always thought I would be good at love. Looks like the answer to that is a resounding "no." I'm good at hurting people. I suppose everyone needs a talent.