This is all Snipps' fault.

Wow. I haven't updated since March. I can barely even remember March! In all honesty, I probably wouldn't be updating now if Snipps' Tumblr post inspired by my dessert post hadn't inspired me to start writing again. Yeah, there was a lot of inspiration running around.


Some things have changed since the last time I posted, and, at the same time, not much has changed at all. I'm still watching Merlin, enjoying my metaphorical cupcake, and spending much too much time in the library looking at the folklore books (which they moved, by the way, to the dungeon. Because we couldn't just keep them where they were before. Oh no. The music majors had to have their fucking music on the middle level so now I have to sit in the fucking dungeon if I want to do research because those selfish pricks couldn't just be happy they even had a fucking section. Okay. I'm good now. As a side note, my cupcake is a music major. Go figure.).


Anyway, this summer was a long one. I started a Sir Leon appreciation Tumblr which I gave up after about 3 weeks because life got in the way. For those of you who don't know, which is pretty much everyone, my Grandmother was very ill this summer and my Mother and I spent most of our time dealing with that. She's allright now so no need to retroactively panic - in fact the doctors say she'll be 100% better by Christmas - but it was a very time consuming and stressful thing that took up most of my time and energy.


Also, and I know this is totally unrelated and not even remotely in the vein of what I was just talking about, but I seriously hate it when people eat in the library. A drink is fine, no need to dehydrate yourself, but do you seriously need a tuna sandwich right now? Seriously?! Right now?!? And do you need to chew like a cow? I don't need to hear you chew from across the room! It's gross! Your tuna is gross! I hope you choke! I've had a lot of sugar today.


Getting back to my life story though, this summer my time was divided between my Grandmother and my super-amazing cupcake, which is good, because I needed some normalcy in my life. Yeah, we had our ups and downs (what baked good hasn't had it's stale days?) but the important thing is that you find a way to work around funky colored frosting and crumby cake batter and you stick to it. I learned a lot this summer about myself and the kind of person I am in a crisis. There are things I wish I was better at, but overall, I think I'm not so bad to have around. It really, overall, comes down to this: Someone has to hold it together, to be the end of the line. If it's somebody else, try not to overwhelm them. If it's you, hold on tight and try to find a way to keep it together, because people are counting on you.


And now to end this post, I will add a picture of Sir Leon. The incredibly adorable knight of the round table played by Rupert Young, who I all too briefly dedicated a tumblr too. This one's for you, Leon.

No words.

I am so sick. No, really. Deathly ill. I really do think I might actually be dying. Slowly. While watching Merlin and trying not to drool every time I see Gwaine. (which is super difficult because he's super yummy.)
Anyway, this post really isn't supposed to be about Eoin Macken or Merlin or how excited I am that we're getting closer to meeting the knights of the round table. It's really supposed to be about how amazing my boyfriend is, but I don't think I can do that. Unfortunately, I've come to realize that the proper words don't exist in the English language in order to facilitate my gushing. Seriously. I'm at a loss. Sitting here writing sentence after sentence beginning with the words "I love" and ending with some amazing thing he does seems repetitive and completely and totally inadequate. Sometimes what you're feeling for someone transcends words.

All I have are feelings and looks and the ridiculously rowdy butterflies that seem to have permanently taken up residence in my chest. I know my skin tingles every time he touches it, and every time we go to an art museum and stare at the impressionist paintings or he listens as I ramble on about architecture and how much I hate rococo revival or he makes me dinner I want to cry because I'm not sure how I got to be this lucky. I know there is nothing more wonderful than being in his arms and I know that I turn into a puddle of mush when he smiles at me. I know these things, and I know how he feels about me, and I know how I feel about him. So, really, I guess I don't need to sit here and make a ridiculous list.

Back to Merlin I go.

Recap. (or what to do when one locates their cupcake.)

I'm going to start off this post by saying this is all a completely hypothetical situation. Naturally. This does not relate directly to my real life at all. Nope. Not a bit.

So there was Jell-o. Life was miserable and sad and no one wants to talk about it. It's a simple fact that one bad dessert has the propensity to bleed over into every other aspect of your life until you wake up one morning and realize you're sick of settling for something they only feed to dying people in hospitals.

Okay. Moving on.

Then there was an interim dessert that isn't even worth mentioning because you figured out rather quickly that while it was all yummy looking on the outside, it was actually made of Marzipan. Oh yes. Marzipan. Worst let down ever? I think so. Disgusting? Yes, that too.

Then there was the Pie/Cake dilemma. Oof. There are no words for this one. This is that moment when you realize you've been staring at the dessert case trying to make a decision for way too long and all of the free samples they gave you sucked. It's the first time in your life that you decide not to have any dessert at all because, well, ew. It's all super-gross.

Then you swear off desserts and tell everyone that it's such a good idea and that they should do it too because you've finally managed to piece together some self-respect and you feel amazing. Three cheers for no extra calories!

Then it happens. There's this cupcake and it magically appears out of nowhere and it's everything you've ever wanted. (I'm not making this up. Desserts do, in fact, magically appear sometimes. Granted, this is the first time it's ever happened to me.. wait.. I lost track of whether or not I'm speaking about real life or continuing with this thinly veiled metaphor... Never mind.) Anyway, this cupcake is perfect and sweet yet it also simultaneously makes you want to take your clothes off. (What? Desserts don't have that effect on you? Clearly there's something missing in your life.) And you're happy. No really, you are. You're disgustingly happy like a little girl who actually convinced someone to buy her a pony. And you giggle. A lot.

So what do you do now? Well, you try to carry on and not act like a complete lunatic all the time. You also find something else to talk about because there comes a time when even your best friend gets a little overwhelmed by your "THE ENTIRE WORLD IS MADE OF RAINBOWS NOW" philosophy... because it's overwhelming and, well, you're probably acting like a lunatic and wildly gesticulating.

So, in conclusion, life is good. You know, if this were a real scenario. And in that case it would still be about desserts. Not people. Nope.

Good Question.

I mean, do you? What's the next step after you realize you were super-happy for a month and one of the contributory factors to said happiness just wandered off and is probably never coming back? Do you really still have to run around thinking there's a time when everything is going to be perfect again or is okay to just push on? Does everything have to be part of some master plan that's going to lead to ultimate happiness or is it enough to just make it through sometimes?

I guess, logically (god, now I sound like Millheiser), life has to be a mixture of all of it - the pursuit, the surviving, and all the benal bits in between.

I know right now that I'm just surviving. It's what we Jedics do, we soldier on no matter the circumstances - whether it's a bruised lung or a broken heart. It stands to reason though that eventually I'll get back to the whole pursuing thing, maybe not with the person I'd like to be pursuing some ultimate goal of total happiness with, but it seems that isn't up to me any more. One can only be so reasonable, so understanding, so caring, and so supportive before it becomes the other person's job to just fucking believe you when you say everything short of "Hey, I still think you're wonderful. No matter what."
Because it's the truth.

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.

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.

Octopus.

I want one.

I mean, yes, I want a lot of animals, but I feel like an octopus would be especially fun to have despite the fact that I couldn't take it out of the water for fear it would go the way of the tiny water frogs of my youth (aka it would be dead and I would cry). But I could keep it in an awesomely cool tank and watch it wander in and out of glass bottles and hide underneath tons o' coral.

......and maybe poke at it occasionally.

Enough is enough.

I have just about had it with people and their ridiculous misconceptions about me, and, as such, I think it's high time we got some things straightened out. Is this going to be a tell-all expose about my life? Eh, no, probably not, I really don't have all day, but there really are some points that need to be touched on.

First of all, it's true, I've made more than my share of mistakes in the past few months and that's left me feeling a but vulnerable. I messed around with the wrong men, put off all of my work, and I'm pretty sure my liver is about to jump ship, but that doesn't mean I'm broken and/or otherwise incapable of carrying on. People make bad decisions all the time and then get on fine with the rest of their lives without the unsolicited advice of everyone they know. It's tough to be 20, especially when you make rash emotionally-driven decisions like I do, but I'll make it, I'll survive, and I'll use whatever coping mechanisms I can until I'm really feeling right again, regardless of whether or not they're popular. The overall message of this paragraph: It would be super if you could all back off. Okay? Thanks.

Secondly, I do some ridiculous things, yes, but that doesn't make me crazy. Passionate? Maybe. Fool-hardy? Possibly. Determined? Definitely. But not crazy. When I want something, I go after it, vigorously, and if I don't end up with it in the end... well, let's just say it's more than a little bit devastating. I was always taught that hard work and determination will get you what you want in this world - I've never had to cope with that not ringing true. I'm confused right now, and, I'll admit it, sad. However, I'll get over this too, I'm a big girl... it may just take me a bit longer. The overall message of this paragraph: I'm hurt right now, and even more confused about life than I normally am, but that doesn't mean I want your advice or your sympathy. You can all back off when it comes to this too. Okay? Thanks.

Lastly, I drink. I drink when I'm rendering, I drink when I'm watching football, I drink on holidays, and I drink with my friends. Do I have a drinking "problem?" No. Do I give a shit if you think I do? No. Also, when I drink, I have a tendency to post things on Facebook and text people. Are those practices wreckless and immature? Probably. Again, do I give a shit if you think I'm wreckless or immature? No. I make my own decisions, right or wrong, and then I live with them. The overall message of this paragraph: If you want to judge what I do, that's okay, but don't think I care about your opinion on any of my actions. Again, backing off is probably the best plan. Okay? Thanks.

So, what have we all learned here today? Well, I think the moral of this tyrade is you all really don't know me or my life and therefore your advice is both completely baseless and unhelpful. It would be amazing if you could stop proffering it like I'm some scared kid who needs their hand held and their life straightened out. While I do generally like holding hands, it seems inappropriate in these particular circumstances. Seriously, it does.

Movie Endings.

"So... what happened next?"
"What do you mean? Nothing happened. That's the end of the story."
"What?! It can't be! Something had to have happened! You opened up, you practically wrote a book for Christ's sake! You can't tell me 'that's the end of the story' because I don't believe you."
"I'm sorry. I may lie about a lot of things, but that really was the end."
"Oh. I'm... well, I'm sorry."

Looking back on this conversation as I'm sitting on my couch eating donuts and watching Bridget Jones' Diary, I can understand why she was so disappointed. At the time, I wanted to punch her in the face- how dare she exacerbate my embarrassment by not instantly comprehending the fact that my expression of feelings meant nothing! Now, though, I totally get it. She was looking for John Cusack outside my window with a boom box or Colin Firth at my front door holding a new diary and completely in love with me despite the fact that I'm a total loon. She made the fatal mistake, as I often seem to, of mistaking real life for the movies. In movies, John Bender turns out to have a heart of gold and Bridget Jones gets a man. In real life, Bender is just a pot-smoking tool and Ms. Jones is doomed to a lonely life filled with binge drinking and daytime television because despite her clever, charming personality, no man wants to date an uncoordinated nut (trust me). In real life, our heroes and heroines end up lonely. Reality renders the the people we root for as just people, not being helped along by the gentle nudge of a writer but completely on their own, dangling in a sea of emotional confusion and making the best decisions they can without having someone who already knows the ending of their story pen their every word.

Thus, it's hard to live in real life. Here there are no movie studios pressuring the director for a happy ending, no "chance meetings" on street corners that allow the characters to work out their differences, no quirky, meddling friends who are determined to get our hero and heroine to realize they've been meant for each other all along. In real life, we're alone and constantly stumbling through one situation and then straight into another; there are no pauses or montages where we get to reflect, no clear-as-day flashbacks to help us remember how we felt about something, we don't get a musical number to help us understand our seemingly incomprehensible feelings, and when something is particularly tough, no one is going to cue the apperance of some random old person who just happens to have an anecdote that completely relates to our problems.

Real life is all about figuring out incredibly difficult things on your own, which means, logically, you're going to fuck a lot of things up.. and, unfortunately, no one is going to step in to guarantee you get a second chance.

The rest of the conversation went as follows, in case you're curious:
"Do you think you'll ever hear from him again?"
"Probably not. I'm clearly insane and I'm a huge pain in the ass, no one would subject themselves to that."
"But there's still hope."
"I guess, I don't know."
"C'mon, hunny, there's always hope."

Clearly someone has seen too many John Hughes movies.



Also..

So true.

Honesty.

Yeah, I know what you're thinking.. "Honesty really isn't your thing, hunny. You should probably stick to what you know, like lying and cheating and sarcastic comments. Oh, and while you're at it, go buy some more rediculous hats and break some more hearts because you're good at those things too."

Shockingly enough, though, I'm much better at honestly than I think anyone would give me credit for. Seriously - it's almost at much fun as lying. I spent last night going through my contacts and texting all of the people I loved and missed and all of the ones I've been wanting to punch in the face but haven't for fear of getting too carried away and/or getting arrested. My shining achievement though, if I do say so myself, was my midnight note which was chock full of both honesty and my token rambling. Today, I feel pretty damn amazing. Honesty really might be the best policy... although strawberry cake with oodles of frosting certainly helps.

I really don't know where to go from here, hell, I don't even know why I typed that, because frankly, I'm not sure I have to "go" anywhere. Imma just sit right here and reap the benefits of being honest. Yup. That sounds like a plan. Oooo.. and I'm also going to work on some Christmas presents. And eat more cake. And continue to wear this hat despite the fact that I'm inside.

This is going to be a good weekend... and life is definitely looking up.

When all the desserts in the case turn out to be rotten...

...you soldier on.



No, really, you do. You realize that someday you're going to meet someone who is going to run toward you, not away from you. You also come to terms with the fact that you've spent the last few days feeling like a crazy person because you care too much about people to just let things stand and not pursue something you're passionate about.



Oh well.



A rotten dessert is a rotten dessert - there's nothing you can do about it. Everything can't be saved.



Also.... if I was a dessert.....
Evidently this is just a bit too sweet and overwhelming (emphasis on "overwhelming") for most.

Definitions and Facts.

bravado: [bruh-vah-doh]
–noun
1. a. A blustering swaggering conduct.
b. A pretense of bravery.
2. The quality or state of being foolhardy.

arrogance: [ar-uh-guhns]
–noun
1. an attitude of superiority manifested in an overbearing manner or in presumptuous claims or assumptions.


If anyone asked me what two things I hate the most in a man, it would be bravado and arrogance..... for the sheer fact that I bring enough of it to the table for the both of us. Everything I say and do is coated in layers upon layers of pretentious nonsense, and it's nearly impossible to get an answer out of me that has some real emotional depth connected to it.... most especially when I've made a conscious decision to be as evasive as possible.

Basically, I'm an impossible woman.

It's impossible to tell what I want, what I'm thinking, or how I'm feeling. Even asking me a direct question doesn't work because I'll still find some way to turn my answer into a sarcastic quip.

Given all this though - And I know this is going to come as a shock. Brace yourselves - I do, in fact, have feelings. As much as I love to tell people that my heart is a frozen block of ice, in truth, it's rather squishy and quite vulnerable. It stands to reason that someone with a puffy, delicate heart would use whatever defense they have to keep from being hurt. It also stands to reason that those defenses are not ones that are easily breached.

It's because of all of this that men generally find me kind of frosty and unattractive. And when I say "kind of," I mean "completely"... If the White Witch and Frosty the Snowman had a love child, that would be me. When given the choice between me and someone easier (i.e. anyone else ever), I'm not going to be anyone's first choice. I'm much too much work, I'm way too mean, and it's going to take some time for there to be any payoff. The only things I love are ridiculous - like unicorns and plushies and cute baby animals and cupcake-scented candles and anything with glitter - and the only things I like to do went out of fashion 30 years ago. To sum it up, you'd have to be insane to want to be with me... insane and extremely persistent because it takes a hell of a lot to get me to actually be honest and not coat everything I say in dripping sarcasm.

And I can assure you, no man is that persistent. Not for me at least.
Which is why, I suppose, I was gifted with such amazing friends.. someone has to love all this crazy... and I'm okay with that.





Because this post has been particularly self-serving, I'm leaving you with this adorable, gratuitious picture of Roly Poly Snowman soft toy by FantasticToys. Eveything in this shop is super cute.. and this snowman is sort of how I imagine I would look if I was a frozen ball of ice... oh wait...

Rambling Man.

"So give me to the Rambling Man, let it always be known that I was who I am.."


We have no heat.
Here I am camped out on my living room floor with a cup of hot tea sewing buttons on a shirt-jacket I made last year (I realized only this morning that I forgot to sew on a button.. or two... yes, I do want people to pay me to do this. Wondeful, isn't it?). I can't really feel my fingers, but it's marvelous. This is how I always envision fall... bitter cold but still full of possibilities.

Speaking of possibilities, I just purchased these glasses off of Etsy..

Aren't they just fantastic? VerboseNYC had them and I simply couldn't resist. As an added bonus, they have my reading perscription already in them which means they're ready to wear. Hopefully I'll actually remember to wear them..... I'm absolutely terrible when it comes to wearing my glasses. I should actually be wearing them right now but that would require me to get up..... which obviously isn't happening.

Honestly, my mind is so scattered right now. I just finished sewing on my buttons, I have my motivational Perry the Platypus plushie next to me (which sadly, does not motivate me to do my drafting homework, but, hey, nothing's perfect), but my brain can't seem to focus on anything for more than a few seconds. Maybe it's the excessive amounts of Mountain Dew I drank today or the fact that I'm going to the Doctors tonight so they can finally tell me what the hell is wrong with my body/uterus. It might even be that I finally decided that Pie really was the best choice all along or that some people can't seem to understand that I'm never going to pull my punches, no matter how many "meaningful" talks they try to have with me. Who knows. I'm going to go eat some french fries and try not to be too nervous or think about Pie too much or purchase any more awesome/rediculous things off of the internet.

Well, I did only say I'd try..... I'm not making any promises here.

Yeah. Sure.

"Wow, Nicole, you've really improved..."

I'm about to let you in on a little secret...
I haven't actually improved.

According to Websters Dictionary, the definition of improvement is as follows: To enhance in value or quality : make better. Basically, you become better in comparison to where you were before.
Unfortunately, if you were actually at what people are referring to as your "improved state" the entire time.....
Well, let me give you a (purely hypothetical) example:
Say you go to art school. You come back from summer vacation only to realize that the quality of the work you had produced the year before meant nothing and everyone was still treating you like a complete imbecile (despite the fact that you got the only "A" in a class about design, full of designers, of which you are not one). So there you are, feeling more than slightly put off when suddenly someone with zero talent gets rewarded with a huge project for no other reason than they happen to kiss a lot of ass.
And you thought you were mad before.
At this point, why try? You're not sure you even want to be there and someone with the drawing skills of a house plant is being treated like they're the second coming of Edith Head. What the hell is the point of trying, really?
So you don't. You slack off, all your projects look like a 1st grader did them with a crayon (although they're still better than some people's projects..), and no one treats you any differently because, apparently, they expected this from you all along. Then, one day, you wake up and realize that you're getting calls to do outside jobs based on -GASP- the quality of your work and you're also kind of a genius. So what do you do now? Well, you just start doing projects at your normal level of excellence and everyone thinks you're "learning so much" in your classes that you couldn't help but improve! Now you look like the Comeback Kid, everyone is going on about how great it is that you can finally draw a human form that doesn't look like a gingerbread man, and telling you that you're really going to go far. Ha. Ha ha. If only they knew....

It's good to be me.

[As a side note, the best part about this whole thing is that I'm still "improving".... and some people clearly never will.]