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.

Really? Well, yes, actually.

Let's sum up today, shall we? I was forced to drink French Vanilla coffee this morning due to the lack of regular coffee in the whole of the DCC (It was vile. No amount of sugar or cream could save it. It was the worst $1.75 I've ever spent. I wanted to cry.). I went to On the Border with Kate Black, and then to Dunkin Donuts (where I got real coffee. It was glorious.), and then to the dollar store where I spent inordinate amounts of money on various Christmas wrapping papers, package toppers, and presents. Yay!
So, at this point in the story, things aren't looking too bad, right? I was thinking that too. I was going to check today off as a good one and be thoroughly pleased.... until I realized that, once again, I had been food poisoned. There goes Thursday.
Although, on the bright side, Luna always does adorable things when I'm not feeling well. She's currently asleep on my feet (keeping them incredibly warm, I might add) and snoring quite contentedly... and people wonder why I like her more than them. Go figure.

Since I'm pretty much stuck here due the aforementioned sleeping kitty/feet situation (unless I need to puke - then all bets are off), lets chat about secrets. I love them. I also love sharing them. Yeah, I know that makes no sense, but bear with me - I'm about to share some shit! Fun, right?! Okay, well, I'm excited....
Here are some things about me in list form because I really really really love lists. It's a problem.
- I believe in magic.. and I'm pretty sure God is a chick. Don't agree with me? That's cool. To each his own. But don't try to convert me to anything, I'll get really cranky and bitter and I'll probably storm off to keep myself from hurling insults at you. And please, try to remember, a Bible given as a not-so-subtle Christmas present will not be appreciated. Trust me.

- I read the wedding section of the paper every week for two reasons. 1. I love making fun people's ridiculous wedding pictures. 2. Honestly, I find marriage to be the most frightening prospect ever. It's really the only thing I'm afraid of and I give people who are willing to take the plunge all the credit in the world. Dedicating yourself to one person and trusting them to not compeltely screw you over, to me, is one of the bravest things you can do.

- I have an obsession with large, furry hats. While I'm sure this doesn't come as a shock to most people, I do need to confess that I find men in large, furry hats incredibly sexy. I stop and stare at men in large, furry hats - blatently stare. Add a moustache and you'd be hard-pressed to keep me from following the guy home. I'm also a sucker for nice hair or a great ass or a great sense of humor, but I feel like that's a discussion best saved for a personal ad.

- I have a weakness for expensive chocolate and Crumbs cupcakes. Go to Saks Fifth Avenue, go to the dessert bar, and take a look at the chocolate there. Oh. My. God. Yes, there is one that has champagne in it. Yes, it's devine. Yes, I'm obsessed with it. Now, go to Crumbs and look at every single thing they have there. Yes, it's all amazing. Yes, their frosting is the best ever. Yes, I'm obsessed with them too.

- Boston Legal is my favorite show of all time. I want to marry Alan Shore. I want Denny Crane to be my best friend. I want to have drinks with Jeffery Coho. I want Betty White to sell me pastries after she murders someone. I love it. It's funny and human and smart and clever and pure perfection. It's the show I watch when I have a bad day, when I have a good day, when I need to get work done, when I don't want to do any work... I think you get the picture.

- I tell people all the time that I'm going to run away and buy a farm.. but I'm really not kidding. I love animals. If I could move to the middle of nowhere and raise Alpaca and spin yarn and make hats, I totally would. As long as I had a hunky guy with me to kill all the bugs and keep me warm at night.... but mostly to kill all the bugs.

- I still sleep with stuffed animals at night because I can't sleep if I don't have something to cuddle with. I have a cuddling problem. If there's nothing for me to hold on to at night, I'll spend the entire time I'm supposed to be sleeping unconsiciously moving about the bed looking for something to squish and dreaming that I've been abandoned or that I'm being chased by monsters. Just as a side-note, I also tend to be a cover-hog. And a pillow hog. And sometimes I flail. I probably shouldn't be allowed to share a bed with anyone.

- I either eat nothing or I eat way too much. Some days, I'm not hungry at all, and others, I'm craving a steak so badly that when I finally get one, I rip it apart like an animal. It all depends on my mood. Most days, though, I just eat frosting and drink some Mountain Dew and life is good. Really though, never get between me and a steak. I like it rare, I like it bloody, and I don't like anyone fucking with it.


Wow, that was a lot of sharing.
P.S. I love Kawaii Not.