Wednesday, January 18, 2006
We're going on three. It seems as if I have a lot to say today. Maybe it's because I said so little last night and I say so little in real life that, after a while, it catches up with me and I just CAN'T HOLD IT IN ANY LONGER!
There is a new
Strong Bad Email out. Something about Creeping, Rusty Meat. Even though I detest that style of noise, I still find SB's mocking of it to be more than enjoyable.
I had my hair in braids today. And, because my hair was still wet when I was doing it, when I took the braids out my hair was all crimpy. Nicole took some "smashing" pictures of my lovely locks. They're a real hoot. I even managed to chuckle. (This is your cue to 'Oo' and 'Ah.') All sarcasm aside, I may post the better of the three just for the heck of it in one of my future blogs. That's assuming Nicole emails them to me.
I've been thinking a lot the past few weeks or so about my eternal companion (that I have yet to find). Maybe it's due to the BYU, "Happy Valley," Let's-go-get-married attitude that I'm surrounded by but, honestly, I think it's all due to the fact that for almost two decades I have been completely and utterley alone with only one or two close friendships to break the silence. No, I don't want sympathy or pity. It's meaningless, rather, and my loneliness is naught but a consequence of choices. But, that's off topic. What I'm talking about is "THE LIST." I think everyone must have a list, even if it isn't written down yet. Mine grows increasingly by the month, but I also start to cross things off that I don't NEED anymore (needs change, too, you know). I have a book of randoms that I keep my list in (as well as other things that I come up with on the spot. Usually I end up writing in it shortly after TLE or a long bout of reading Eva Ibbotson or Dianna Wynne-Jones).
- I want to dance. I've never really danced before, but I admit. In the quiet of my bedroom late at night with my door locked, curtains closed, and no one there to see me I'll often waltz to a beautiful, flowing tune. None of this "swaying" stuff. That's not dancing. That's like... an up-beat hippy listening to "Kumbia My Lord" on crack. And I'm not that into hippies.
- Shopping. Every girl likes to shop for herself. It's true. I have yet to meet a female that doesn't like to spend money on things she likes. And, while I would LOVE it if my EC would be willing to humor me while I shop for myself and come with, I'd also love it if I could go shopping with him and for him. I'm weird like that. I'd even be OK if Walmart was the limit.
- Let me be myself. I mutter things under my breath to myself all the time. And I've got a running commentary going on in my head 24/7/365 (or 366, if it's a leap year). I'm also very sarcastic to myself, especially when I'm out of the house and see something that a)amuses me or b)I think is incredibly stupid. Few people understand this relationship I have with myself. Basically, I guess, I just need someone who can accept it. And maybe be amused by it. I've also got a lot of other little quirks. What can I say? I'm OCD. Even my doctor says I am. (Lots of people claim to have OCD tendencies. I can actually lay claim to BEING Obsessive Compulsive.) I almost always have to have the item in the very back that hasn't been touched all the time. My desk has to be arranged just so. If there is a mess, it needs to be organized. EVERYTHING needs to be organized. My clothes are generally sorted by style and then color. My shoes are sorted by style and color as well. If it's the last band-aide in the box, I won't use it. I'll save it. If something is crooked, I've got to put it straight. Pens belong on PAPER, not people. And so on and so forth. Not to mention my eating habits (besides the disorder- I'm hoping to overcome that one). I think I'm one of the pickiest eaters on the planet. I like fresh, raw peas, but not cooked ones. I hate potatoes but I love potatoe chips and I will cook a potatoe if I have to. Same goes with tomatoes. Don't like them. Like Ketchup. Don't like Spaghetti Sauce on my spaghetti, but I use it in lasagna. Don't like Pizza sauce. Period. So just let me be me.
- I like to walk. It's good exercise. Not to mention a good coping activity where you can meditate and just enjoy nature. I've found myself missing the mile long walk I had to take last year to and from campus. Now I've got 2 blocks and I'm there. That is just not long enough.
- Parents. Gotta love 'im. If my parents don't like the guy, the relationship is basically doomed from the start. No pressure, though. My parents have yet to disagree with me about people I associate with.
My list goes on and on with simple, common knowledge sort of things (like being a gentleman and opening doors, or trying to stay in shape, being a RM, worthy Priesthood holder, take me to the Temple, Loyal, Considerate, Understanding, providing for my spiritual, physical, as well as emotional needs, and being at least somewhat romantic), but I'd hate to bore you with all that.
I'm thinking of maybe minoring in English. I love to read. While photography would be my life if I could afford it (and if I knew whether or not I had the talent for it), reading is my passion. And writing. However, I've come to a new conclusion (which is turning into a daily sort of event). Here it is: I hate showing people what I write. Novels and publishing and becoming famous always come up in conversation.
"Are you going to try and get published someday?" my sister might ask me.
"No," I'll say.
"Why ever not?" someone else inquires. "You're good enough." (I beg to differ, but I don't argue that point. What I do is never quite perfect enough for me.)
"Because," I respond, "I don't want to be famous. I like the shadows too much. I feel safe in the shadows. The brightness of fame is too blinding, to sharp, has too much vulnerablity. I'd much rather marry someone famous than be famous myself. And even another's fame is a little iffy for me." And that's the end of that. While they never seem to understand ("Everyone likes their 15 minutes of glory!") they at least let me alone.
I need to get my photography portfolio together. I've got all the negatives picked out, I just need to get reprints and put them on slides. Don't know how to do the latter part, but I'll ask Bekah. maybe tomorrow during TLE. Deadline to apply into the program is next month, so time is getting short. Procrastination, I have realized, is a bad thing. It makes my life more stressful which has the inevitable result of me getting VERY SICK. I can't afford to be sick again this semester. It's funny. 3 years of highschool and I didn't miss a single day. Then Sr year I get two ear infections in one day and miss a full week. Ever since then I seem to struggle with going to class every day. Last week for obvious reasons, but the worst part is that usually I just don't feel like going to class. That was last YEAR, though. I did pretty well fall '05.
Wow. After midnight already! I suppose I'd better head to bed, then. I've had my mug of hot chocolate so there's nothing left but to take my nutritional suppliment (since I don't eat, you know), my luvox (because I've OCD and frequently get depressed as well as anxious), wash my face, brush my teeth, read my BOM, write in my journal, and sleep. Although, I may end up just printing this off on smaller sized paper and gluing it in. I've been known to do that before.
I enjoy thoughts, comments, and ideas, so if you would acquiesce to my request, I'd love it.
P.S. Did I mention that I like a good foot massage?
