Change of Scene!

No, really we've got to change the fucking set before the act is over...

I have a comfy corner! It's upstairs at Baine's, and since I spent all day Sunday huddled in it I now claim it as mine. I have the left end (with arm rest) of this ancient corduroy? couch, that when you sit on it sinks half a foot, creating a butt chasm. I then fold both legs over each other and rest my laptop on top. Unfortunately, I'm making due with a folding chair as my coffee table, but Generic White Coffee Mug doesn't mind. It also is set so far back in the room that only on closer inspection can you see me, tap taping away in my cute little elf shoes.

IMA MAKE PUMPKIN BREAD AND THIS IS NOT COPYING BECAUSE THERE'S EXTRA PUMPKIN IN THE FRIDGE FROM PUMPKIN PANCAKES THE OTHER DAY. THERE WILL BE NO NUTS IN PUMPKIN BREAD. YUCK.

So, also, I've been thinking about what I need in the case of a zombie apocolypse, and since I obviously have guns and ammunition I need to ensure my own safety from possibly faulty clothing.

There is no clothing at Urban Outfitters suitable for the zombie apocolypse.

Scenesters die first. People that call scene kids "scenesters" probably die first as well.

I think that from now on I'm going to buy hiking//running boots for my only footwear, because the first rule of the zombie apocolypse is CARDIO. And I really can't run in TOMS. Guess what happens to all the third world inhabitants that TOMS helps shod? THEY GET NOM NOMMED BY ZOM ZOMS. Sorry.

All houses with windows must go.

Where's the nearest CDC?

I'll need almost 200 gallons of gasoline.

And a pick axe.
ROAR.

Family Matters

Melodramatic Thanksgiving is now done.
We fried a turkey.
We killed a possum.
But, my family, is so disconnecte that we can not have a whole day together, with all of us in the same house without a mediator of a TV. We're all slaves to digital boxes. I mean, we can spend a day together, in the same house, but not without frequent outbursts of unpleasent adjectives. So if we ever became ship-wrecked like the Swiss Family Robinson, without modern technology, we would probably kill each other off. I don't know how this would ever change, except that my sister and I will probably move away from my parents, inciting a loss of mental stability as to why we didn't move back near my parents. The relationship I have with my sister, or lack of relationship will then downgrade from there, and so we'll end up in different parts of the country, with families that don't see their relatives. Just. like. now.

So, that's just what gets pushed into my brain on break. Happy holidays.

But in other news, my feet are violet. Violent violet. And really, really cold. Snuggling is now in order.

Seasonally Out of It

I habitually stare out the window during class.
The Autumn weather is going to be my Titanic. Because I can't stay inside to do school work when the most beautiful orange days are fading away. What about when it snows! I'll just have to be inside, and it will be constantly grey. Let me soak up the dirt, and the smell of tomatoes and watch the high cirrus blow across the mountains before its all covered in snow.
Snow... Ski season.

Can I handle the seasons of my life?

I had the urgency to blog because I couldn't focus on school.
Currently studying: Pieter Bruegel the Elder. Electric cars. Logarithms. mRNA. T.S. Elliot.

Currently obsessed with: Obsessions!

Ha.

I'm slowly loosing my sense of humor to my power of analyzing. Like, that area where I analyze something is expanding into the area where my tiny sense of humor is stored. It took it up! It encroached! R.I.P. sense of humor.

strA

And grab your glue gun
And grab you glitter
and grab your clay
'cause they be crafting everything up 'n here.

I feel like I have an underdeveloped sense of arts and crafts. So, when I was a kid I could just mash a bunch of little felty thiings on cardboard and I was assured no matter HOW MANY TIMES I ASKED, it looked perfect (and even then, I was such a fucking perfectionist) but now, now I have to TRY to make beautiful things. And I think about those poor souls in art school and go 'Where do they pull out this infinite amount of ability? Are their brains special? This is bananas!' And then I walk over and put a brick through their window. JK. They'd probably think its this void of a whole and keep it there for the effect when they pull out their 35 mm and start snapping pics evy'where. But I envy them boogers.

I'm stuck on college essays. Time isn't down to the wire yet, but,...yet.

If K--- drops a bomb in the woods, does anybody hear?

Before Sunrise

Daydream delusion
Limousine Eyelash
Oh, baby with your pretty face
Drop a tear in my wineglass
Look at those big eyes
See what you mean to me
Sweet cakes and milkshakes
Don’t you know me?
Don’t you know me by now?

I wish I could take credit for such a master stroke,

Aunt Jemima Puddle Duck

Here Comes the Sun Again

I hate this 'dark so quickly' jizz.
How am I supposed to run long and not get hit by cars?

I've got green tea, and I failed my Calc test and... I feel all warm on the inside.

And I meant to say, in yesterday's post--

Now that I have your attention,
let me lose it by talking about myself.

I backed out of writing a Gay Marriage (for) argument paper today.
In retrospective, I'm not sure why I would do that.
Most of the time I am directly inflammatory and though you're not supposed to approach these sort of essays with the kind of attitude that says 'hey, I'm going to be intentionally inflammatory of everyone's really backwards and conservative views', that's what I believed I would do with this. I would throw their stupid homophobia.

But, when she called on me, with my hand raised, I blurted out "I'd like to do my essay on electric cars, and I'm against them". This clearly wasn't what I had chosen to, and had made up my mind, to do. But that was what I spit out. And it got me thinking that if I can't even talk about this subject comfortably, or write a three page (three pages, for God's sake, a trifling amount) paper about it, then I am no better than the homophobics of my school. This saddens me, because I do support gay rights, and if I can't voice an opinion on it then does this make me a coward? Clearly, the electric car topic was weak sauce compared to this.

11:18

My Mechanical Toothbrush!

And other witty things that vibrate.

So now that I have your attention....
Come in for...
A Hot BOWL OF...
Soup

I'm trying to put more thoughts into blog form since it's creative/ thoughtful/ caring/ compassionate/ loving/ fondling/ getting/ a/ little/ handsy/ ach!

PUMPKIN PANCAKES and WOOL SOCKS are the only things I want in life.

If I had to give a self-description of myself I'd put in it that I'm the mounds of laundry I never do because I only think about myself and I drop the s-bomb in English.
But only when provoked.

When the cops ride behind me with their lights on I find that I get more butterflies in my chest then I whenever I talk to guys. Because, when guys are hitting on you, you're supposed to get all fluttery right?
Too bad cops are the only ones that have that effect on me.
This all sounds despicable...
if it weren't for the fact that I've had two close run ins in the last month

I believe it's true that we both hate and fear what we do not know.
Like, how I fear calculus.