I’m leaning towards purchasing it. It matches me somehow. It’s that damned “bamboo lamp feeling” all over again. Lol
I’m leaning towards purchasing it. It matches me somehow. It’s that damned “bamboo lamp feeling” all over again. Lol
Current drama: 1% of anything.
Impressions: I’d have probably flipped the main character over my shoulder by episode 2.
I don’t react well to people grabbing me by the arm and forcing me to do things (or go places) when I don’t want to. “Senno ecto gammat Motherfucker!”
The main male character does this to the main female character and, I swear, I would have gone from a teensy bit stubborn to total mule monster the moment he attempted to “make me” go where I didn’t want to go.
Oh, and I’d have blown a fuse if he’d attempted (as he did in the drama) to tell me not to talk to any males I knew just because he said so…HAH! I say, HAH! “I will be friends with whomever I want buddy! Go soak your head!” (Probably explains why I am single).
The theme of the program is that he’s a rude and disliked person sooo..I guess I’ll wait and see how he changes his attitude. (Meanwhile, I’ll be the one mumbling dire threats under my breath)
Breakfast: An Italian Sub and Sun chips actually. (My day isn’t like anyone else’s due to working 3rd shift)
Television: Watched the final Level Up, watched a few episodes of 1%. They sure kiss a lot.
Notebook plotting: I tabbed the hell out of my notebook. I now have physical evidence that I have a learning obsession. Yay! Doesn’t everyone have 5 different things they are learning/ working on at the same time? Just me? Oh.
I really need to go to sleep now. Why are days sooo short?
I bought a few random items for my new apartment. Ice cube trays, white metal shelf riser inserts for in my cupboards, a fabric pill case which I will use for jewelry instead of daily pills, a ruler (for my blackwork wall decor project), and a set of notebook page tabs (for the scheduling of different learning/ decorating/ activities, I am planning). See? Random
I also treated Shay to KFC. With only 2 weeks left I felt like treating her. My miscellaneous apartment purchases are slowly, but surely, adding up, which is good, seeing as I have a finite amount of money available.
Carrying those suckers up the stairs is gonna be a bitch.
Today marks an anniversary of sorts. August 14th, 2010. 9 years. I’ve been wearing my silver worry-ring for 9 years now. The promise still holds.
The story about it can be found here: Sacred Promises
I got off work at 7 am. I haven’t slept yet. Instead I:
Laid on the couch and played Sims 4 for a whole 20 min, got bored and shut my computer down.
I downloaded 300 Blackwork filler patterns and converted two of them into graph form. I am obsessed with Blackwork Embroidery.
After that, I:
Watched 3 episodes of K drama Level Up and groused about the CEO woman character and how much I hate her. I may have cursed a few (1000) times about the concept of one-sided love and blaming someone for not loving you when you should value yourself enough to accept the truth you already know..or something, something. (Finally takes a breath)
I can’t help it..that character is the exact opposite of a Capricorn in every conceivable way. She annoys me. She literally ordered the main male character not to meet with the main female character outside work, like she was his wife. The whole thing (ordering a man who isn’t in the slightest bit interested in her around like he owed her something) triggered me like a bad rash.
Then, I had a 4 cheese pizza and watched Noah Wylie as The Librarian.
Total sloth afternoon.
I’m pretty pleased with myself.
Now I think I’ll go to sleep.
There are only 16 days left.
I may vomit.
The stress is starting to get to me. I check my budget and then recheck it. Then, I calculate my bills and recalculate my bills. I have to rely on myself soon and I’m not gonna lie, it scares the spit out of me. How did I do this with a roommate again?
My nails no longer exist. I’m not sleeping well and I keep creating scenarios in my head that effectively scare the spit out of me.
I find myself waking at 2 am in tears yelling “I haven’t even bought pans yet! I’m going to frickin starve to death!”
How the hell did I forget how to be on my own?
I grew up a poor kid in Ohio. Growing up it was acceptable to be the second thing, being the first was like painting a very large sign on your back with the words “Kick the freeloader” on it.
The only thing I had a lot of, was mouth. I was the most sarcastic, beat-someone’s-ass, put-em-in-their-place kid out there. I talked a lot to hide that I was shy. I acted tough, to hide that I was lonely. I read voraciously, to disappear from other people. People who managed to find ways to control everything I did, even though their ideas of what I should do were worse than my own.
I became strong and separated all my feelings from sight, so I could breathe, and people still managed to find ways to hurt me through that armor. Soo..I made better armor, still me in there though.
Saying the words “free lunch”, as a child in school, hurt like tacks in my mouth. I’d have to say it to the cashier every. single. day. I didn’t need the added struggle of being poor since I was already strange. Strange dreams, strange mannerisms, strange viewpoints. Nevertheless, the fates probably didn’t pause very long before letting me have it between both eyes.
You might think I said all the above to make you feel somewhat sorry for me, but you’d be wrong. I’m telling it straight because I never have before. I usually pretty up my childhood to help other people feel better about it. That’s what I grew up really good at doing.
It didn’t do anyone any good to admit the truth. My family excelled at lying to themselves. Because telling the truth made things harder, I grew up lying about my own heart. Love is like that sometimes. Even if they don’t love you right, you love them for loving you the best they could, even if it was the wrong way.
All those struggles made me into a person who knows how to start from the bottom. We restarted soo many times that starting from the bottom doesn’t scare me. At 45, I know just where every piece of me goes, I’ve started over that many times.
That’s enough honesty for one night, I think. I guess I’m saying all this because those bits are finally healing. I just need to say my truths out loud now, so they can float away like petals in the wind.
Maybe speaking the words I’m not supposed to say, will become the life I want to live now.
The words certainly can’t hurt me now, I’ve already paid for them all.
The first and only time I let my sister at me with a curling iron. Lol
You would think with 2 days off I’d feel pretty good. Instead, I feel kinda meh. I turned my fan on full blast trying to shake the blah away.
It kinda worked..somewhat.
The photos made me smile. Taking selfies is weird. Still, I feel better.
I have a poem on here (somewhere) with the words
“Wearing twisted up undies, and a frown.”
That’s honestly mood right now.
I’m really flippin tired, a wee bit frustrated, and just a tad listless.
Current Drama: Beauty Inside (Ep.11)
Current Book: The Overstory
Current Countdown: 19 days.
Current drink: Chai with French Vanilla creamer and Ice cubes
Current meal: A Somewhat overdone and reheated hamburger with mozzarella.
Current clothes: T-top (black) Yoga pants (Brown)
Current plans: Going back to bed.
I have decided that if I do learn another language the one I learn will probably be Korean.
I worry about honorifics and how I might totally screw that up but, it would definitely be the language most worth my effort.
Now I just need to actually buy a program to teach me.
How do you know when you’ve read a good book?
When the words on the page disappear and instead, before your very eyes, is an image, and idea, a feeling, that manifests and pulls you forward. Your brain forgets that it is the reader and becomes part of the story, the adventure, the discovery.
Each moment enters you and blooms forth parts of yourself you have been hiding. You feel fear, love, laughter, joy and deep sorrow. You drop into a vast pool of memories that aren’t your own. When you hit the last page, it’s like coming up for air, waking up, emerging from somewhere else, not here.
Regardless of the way the book may have ended (in happiness or tears) you still feel grief at your very core. Because, it’s ended. It’s ended and even if you read the very next book in the series (if you are lucky enough), you cannot relive that first book. That wondrous experience has ended and you will miss it.
Even as you cling reverently to each moment experienced with what has now become part of your own waking dreams, you cannot do anything but wistfully envy those who have not yet begun the journey.
A good book doesn’t just tell you a story, it becomes part of yours.
Where would I be if not for Scout who lectured me? George Wallace who enlightened me? Harry who befriended me? Samwise who touched me? Jo who lead me deeper into my own rich convictions? Where would I be without Auryn symbols, Cheshire cats, and wardrobes that lead to other worlds?
Who would I be without the worlds that shaped my character?
A good book is one that changes everything you once thought you were, into the everything you will one day become.
Why do we never acknowledge the quiet thoughts we have on random days? I think everyone has them, but not many actually comment about them.
I hope everyone has them, or else I am the strangest person ever made (not that I’m not, but I am talking about thoughts here and not mismatching socks purposely).
The thing is, thoughts center me. I think they center everyone, but I haven’t really enquired. Like today, for example, I noticed someone read my “Weary Brow” poem. I wondered if they had guessed who it was about and blushed briefly, as I like and hate people seeing into my thoughts. I wondered what they made of it. If they thought my thoughts cheesy or overly sentimental. I am, arguably, both in equal measure, but I wondered if they had chosen a sentiment one way or the other.
I then went downstairs and turned on my laptop. Carrying all my things downstairs each time I use them is annoying, but I have come to see it as an adventure to the kitchen, my arms overloaded with a computer, mouse, cell, charger- cord and box of tea. A slightly strange adventure, but then again, aren’t they all?
I pulled some Chicken Alfredo out of the fridge and smiled because I know my sister, Shay, put it in a container knowing I wouldn’t make it past 6 pm for dinner before I fell asleep. I contemplated the awareness that I eat dinner when everyone else is eating breakfast. Then, my thoughts drifted to Korea and I smiled again. They eat food for breakfast we American’s wouldn’t consider breakfast and they don’t seem to mind either. American’s don’t really eat healthy in the morning anyway. My current obsession is with actor Lee Dong Wook, he’s got a soft warmth that I find endearing and intriguing. I have been having a love-fest for Korea itself, for much longer. I like how quirky, respectful, humorous, and romantic they are as people. I love cultures and theirs is endlessly surprising.
Now, I am sitting here with some Peach Cranberry juice on ice and my laptop. I’m just sitting here, thinking about that single person I imagine I am typing to (I always imagine just one person, it helps me not to freak out imagining people reading my work) I wonder if they are having an ok day. I wonder if they are worried about anything I can help with. I wonder if they know how I strangely connect with my readers. I check my stats and preen when I see what they liked or read. I read what they read and wonder about them. Yesterday, I told Shay I am my own biggest fan. I read my own work over and over again, contemplating it, critiquing it, and often ranting about spelling mistakes. I chastise myself for the mistakes, especially if I missed them for a long period of time.
These are my quiet thoughts this morning. This is what I am like. I feel oddly satisfied with sharing my inner thoughts. Perhaps I was just a bit lonely.
When there are too many words to say, holding someone’s hand says all of them.
My brain just did something incredibly weird. I read the first two pages of The Overstory by Richard Powers, and had to stop. I had to stop because my brain made this infinitesimal little sound, a sound that was suspiciously like the word Sqwee! Softly, quietly, like a prayer. My brain has never done that before but, whatever was happening, it was powerfully joyful.
My brain keeps running from one quote to another unable to stop. There is just too much depth and beauty in each sentence.
You see, I could write a bible of the quotes in my life. They aren’t just quotes to me. They are secrets. I don’t pass by quotes easily. In fact, I savor them, I ponder them, I delve into them for hours that feel like days.
I already have a brain that loves to follow thoughts along their meandering paths until they end. I’ve had some thoughts that lasted for days, worrying family members for my silence and lack of movement. Soo, just imagine, a book where my brain is unable to go further than 2 pages before loudly, exuberantly, yelling that it needs to stop and assimilate every damned thing it just read.
“The tree is saying things in words before words”
“It says: Sun and water are questions endlessly worth answering.”
“It says: A good answer must be reinvented many times, from scratch.”
“It says: Each piece of earth needs a new way to grip it. There are more ways to branch than any cedar pencil will ever find. A thing can travel everywhere, just by holding still.”
This is just one paragragh and already..ALREADY, these thoughts will take me an entire week to contemplate. The joy is in knowing that an entire week of thinking is, for me, no hardship. Rather, it is like a gift.
I think I better prepare myself to be in it for the long haul. I borrowed it from the library, but I think I’m gonna need more time than that. I’m going to need to buy the book.
If you need me I’ll be contemplating a tree transcending from a place of words before words. Should only take me a few days-ish.
Ps. You know all about me and trees right? (At the very bottom of my sidebar is a search option..type in “tree” and see what you can discover about the inner workings of my brain.)
Have you ever had a day where you worked really hard, but someone didn’t notice or misunderstood and felt the need to criticize?
I think everyone has days like that. Days where you wonder to yourself “Why am I working soo hard?” “Nobody cares! Why kill myself doing the same things with all my effort like I’m dying?”
Days when you see others doing less or not caring if things are done well. “So what?” You hear them mutter “It’s not even a good job and I don’t get paid well. I’ll just get another job”
I hear these thoughts too but, I cannot ever give in to them. I have thought about it during those low days. “Why am I like this?” “Why do I work hard when nobody notices?” But, I can’t be them. I can’t do what they do. I often asked myself why I am soo different.
Even when I am misunderstood. Even when I am critcized or treated unfairly. Even when I am not recognized for my efforts. I cannot stop just doing my best. Completing my work well. Sometimes, even completing other people’s work well. Why?
Because, I am B. When I look in the mirror I am B. When I cry, when I rage, when I sleep. I am B. The pride in my name. The pride in knowing that I gave my best efforts. That even in failure I lived up to the promise of myself. My trust in myself to be a me I am proud see in my mirror.
Those who love me. Those who look to me. Those who see me, and know my value. For them, I am this person.
I don’t work for other people. I work for me. I work hard so that I can look into my mirror and know that I was Bex, until the end. I will live with no regrets. I won’t leave a legacy of money or prestige…I might not even be remembered by most..but, those who love me. Those people. Those people will smile. Like my favorite person says “When we die, the ones we love will miss us.” They won’t just miss us, they will also be proud of us. They will know who we truly were every single day, with pride. Pride in knowing our name.
So, let us, you and I, leave a legacy of pride in our name. Can we?
I kinda chuckled when I translated this back into English. Good luck my lovely Koreans, it’s quite difficult to recognize what I actually wrote. Lol