alone and together

I've been in search of my perfect black tank top. It left me suddenly after my trip to LACMA and I thought surly I'd gone crazy since it went missing the day after I'd worn it. That got me thinking about the cat shirt that had also gone missing months before. Classic black and white tee with a cat wearing a top hat=coolest t-shirt ever & a great loss. So, for months I'd go the extra mile, spending a little more time digging through our several hampers to try and uncover the mystery of these missing shirts. I vividly remember the last times I wore both of them, i just couldn't remember their disappearance...or kidnapping. Anyway, today was officially branded a good day when  I uncovered both shirts. Tucked behind the washer in a damp heap, they kept each other company. The cat had gone missing so the tank top went to find him, getting lost himself. Poor dear. They didn't belong there, but there they were together, just keeping company. My lost shirts. I decided that they are in love and I will wear them tomorrow (layers ladies, layers!) in honor of said love. Perhaps you think I'm mad, but if you read a little deeper, perhaps there is more to the story of my lost shirts. Today's theme song.

Word of the Day

I enjoy simplicity. I see it everywhere now that I'm busier than a honey bee on tour with its band mates. I enjoy the simple act of sitting to rest my sore legs, a cup of hot tea to comfort me, or patting my large dog on the head. I still long for adventurous days, but i meet new people every single day and greet the usuals, so that part of the void has been filled. I also enjoy purposely sitting cute guys in the booth right across from the hostess counter (I can't help it, I have the power!) It's the little things that count right? Everyday is technically the same, but not really. Same job, new people, new stories=enjoyable. That is today's word: Enjoy Would you like another example? EX. I enjoy listening to music (currently "Stranger Things"- LN) every single day of my life. OR If you wanna cut that down: I enjoy____________ every single day of my life. Good'day everyone. Hello.

Blue Frosting and Chicken Soup

I fell on the kitchen floor last night from paralysis due to laughter. That's pretty much the only medical condition I ever want to suffer from....ever. We made messy cakes and F'd up my buddy's kitchen, made faces on cupcakes, and ate from a mountain of nachos. My breath still smelled like skittles this morning (I brushed the night before) and I ate a good portion of pie crust for dinner. There was blue frosting stains on my face, fingers, and clothes. Being blue never felt so good. (see what I did there?)
Bright and early work days. I hum myself through them while...gossiping with my fellow hostesses. ( I am a listener of gossip, not a participator...just as bad.) I like work, it makes me feel like an adult. I have to pay for mind boggling things, and I miss out on fun stuff, but I'm sparing my mom unnecessary expenses,PLUS there's this cute hippy waitor who comes in. ;) People pay with one-hundred dollar bills like the earth is going to crash and burn tomorrow and they need to get rid of their large bills. I also met a man named "Chin" today, he works at Pizza Hut and of all things ordered chicken soup. Imagine that. I'm a grateful girl ;) Happy Memorial Day weekend! Be safe my loves.

when a stranger compliments

Today there was a man who looked a little down-and-out outside of a restaurant. As I walked passed him I felt as if he were looking at me and made an effort not to make eye contact. Toting my to-go food on my arm, I got the same feeling, only this time he stopped me:

"Excuse me"

"yeah?"

"I'm on my lunch break and I wanted to tell you that you look really pretty today"

"aww thank you (nervously)"

"Yeah, I would ask you on a date, but I'm sure you have a boyfriend."

"Uhm (panics a bit to try and think of something) yeahh...I do actually" (I don't) 

He nodded respectfully, dismissing me, and I walked back to my car. Wanna know something funny? That guy pretty much made my day. Sure, he was a little dirty, and looked like maybe he enjoyed his substances every afternoon, but he was nice to a complete stranger for no reason. Guys never say things like that out of the blue to me. EVER. I judged him way too quickly: He was dirty, slouchy, and sitting alone, but cleaned up I'm sure he'd be a looker. My thought process as I walked by: Ah, shit. Look straight, look straight ahead, look straight. Regardless of his appearance or situation, he was nice and I was way more flattered than freaked out. Not to say that you should strut passed odd-balls with the hope of gaining self-reassurance, but don't write them off as threats or not worth your simple eye contact. Thanks Guy, really, you made me feel good...and I lied...I don't have a boyfriend, please don't take offense.

thanks

I thought it was fine, same ol' story that never comes as a surprise, but hits just as hard. I didn't care, and I've accepted that some things just don't work out as dandy as hoped for, but he was at the top of the world and asked the wrong girl. 

I already wrote a song that I'm actually quite proud of, so I guess I can thank him for that. It's not about how awesome he is and what a lost soul I am for not being "his". It's called "Pretender", go ahead and do what you will with that title. ;) 

Here's the thing: She's pretty, but stands like Barbie and talks like a pre-programmed Susie Talks A Lot. She has big boobs and a model-esque  body, so I hope he gets just what he wants from her. Would you guys mind if I blamed the crying on PMS? I don't feel like crediting him anymore. Thanks for the music. 

Thank God

I am thankful for the "just right" amount of ingredients I found in the cupboards for comfort cookies. When at first i didn't find butter, I panicked, but then resorted to shortening and the addition of oatmeal. If I hadn't found all that I needed, I would have surely sunken into my learning-to-drive-stick-shift-in-my-new-beautiful-sparkly-car-that-soon-made-me-realize-that-i-may-never-get-the-hang-of-it-and-will-have-to-let-my-car-collect-dust-in-the-garage misery. Thank God for homemade cookies, really, thank God.
My mom took me out into a relatively quiet business park for my training. Right away, I drove into a dead-end and had to reverse, which is like 10X harder with manual transmission. However! Pretty soon I was zippin' around the parking lot until my mom said some very nerve-wracking words: "Alright, now take it into the street" Oh, shiite Muslim. I lurched onto the open road and shifted to the wrong gears, lurched, and stalled. Clicking the key, I restarted and lurched forward, sending us screeching up the hill as my mom nervously instructed me to shift gears. Then, there was this one stop sign. One very evil stop sign. Every single time I stopped at this red demon, I couldn't get myself back into driving mode. EVERY TIME. I stalled and lurched and had to restart. I was sent spiraling as someone pulled up behind me and watched the embarrassing sight that was me trying to kick my ass into gear.
I cried. I freaking cried. I cried until I was sobbing. I begged the car to please just grow some wings and fly away home. I cursed the car and threatened her with a trade-in. A TRADE-IN! (Sorry, "Coo". that's her name..kinda) So my mom sternly yelled at me to "Stop crying! I can't believe you're crying right now!" and I cried harder because, naturally, that's what you're supposed to do when someone is telling you to stop. Girl thing? Anyways, I adamantly told her that I was finished and to switch seats with me and take this hunk-a metal home. She made me try five more times and I still didn't get it, thus, creating the awkward, quiet, and angry drive home. So again, thank God for cookies, just, thank God.

Your Dose:

Life is what you make it. It is not hereditary, genetic, or inbred. It is your own beautiful mass that should be shaped and guided by its sole owner.

red

I await the arrival of my red getaway car. Sunday will bring long hours of work, a home-cooked meal, and my first car. The butterflies in my stomach are out of control, and I love it. This will be the car that will be with me throughout my college years, it will take me to different cities and bring me joys and frustrations. My little pre-owned buddy. Oh, the places we'll go.

Big Alice

You've seen Alice in Wonderland right? Well, if you haven't, you probably are lacking in some serious life lessons...ie...don't smoke pipe with a giant caterpillar. Anyways, you know that part where Alice tastes the little mushroom candy things in that tiny jar?  The girl shoots up and her head hits the ceiling...etc...etc.. I feel like Alice in that part. I'm getting too big for my surroundings, rather, they're getting too small. I'm not saying I'm  too good for all that I have, I'm saying that I have the need to break through the roof and reach my potential. Graduation is in like 36 days or something, I'm getting  a car this week, and come August I'll be in college. Phew.
My older sister makes me feel like an adult. I feel so much more aware and responsible, I feel like my mom expects more from me. I feel like you're probably tired of reading about what I feel like.SO, short story short: My life is busting through my pockets. Everything I kept in my back pockets is ripping at the seams and I don't think this has ever happened in my family before. I feel like my mom and my siblings settled, and it's just not in me to carry on the tradition of settling. I want to live my own life with my own mistakes, adventures, circle of people, epiphanies, choices, creations, woes, wonders, and whimsy. If I were Alice, I would have never taken the small pill, I would have just let myself mingle with the tree tops.

Also, if you want to see what I "fancy", go here

interview with a crazy person

Sometimes, when I regress to childhood, I conduct interviews with myself. I'm a musician on tour in Europe and people are loving it. This, of course, is a three-man band  consisting of my brother, sister, and myself. We haven't produced any whole songs, but we've given ourselves a name: "Tarred, Feathered, & Stoned." Anyways, an interviewer asks how I'm taking in all the success of our European tour and what life on the bus is like. My answers are modest as I reveal that all of our success is credited to our fans. Is this getting weird yet? The interviewer inquires about how life must be changing for the three of us:  a high school graduate, ex-marine/ father of one, and a graphic designer. I tell him it's a dream come true and that the three of us are just enjoying being heard finally (because it's been such a long road to success) I also mention that we're very proud of the album and that it's a collaborative process in crafting the lyrics and melodies. So, i assume that this lunacy has revealed my unconscious desire to be a musician...like in a band. lunacy. Our tour dates for the states will be revealed soon.

Sweet Working World

This girl is a working girl now! She has a job at a 24/7 cafe where she will work and sacrifice playtime to save money for that special city that  she keeps insanely, and without introductions, close to her heart. I am officially your typical college student story (waitress who works her way through college and though it is a pain at times she finally reaches her goal, packs her bags, and moves to an unknown city where she eventually becomes successful and falls in love) ;) or at least I hope that's the case. Bon Voyage lazy days! Hellloooooo working girl!

Old Barn

She went back to a place she'd thought little of to see if she'd matured any. A large dusty building filled with trinkets of every era greeted her with creaky floorboards and quiet rooms. She wandered, her fingertips grazing the delicate glass figurines and a pair of 1850's Victorian shoes as she took in the musky air with renewed curiosity. Everything had belonged to someone else, but somehow ended up here. It used to be a garage back when cars were clunky and identical, but now it entertained endless years of priceless artifacts. She wondered who the serious people in the tarnished black and white photos were and why they seemed so sad, she flicked a key on an old typewriter while mulling over the people who could have possibly done the same thing one hundred years ago. This place was no longer a boring, old, dusty, waste of time, it was a haven for the lost things.
The sun made her squint her eyes as the fresh air sent goosebumps up her arms. A farmers market sat nestled between the barn and a parking lot, fresh flowers blooming out of plastic buckets. Vendors piled their fresh produce high on their tables, reaching out free samples to those passing by. Red cherries, aromatic strawberries, glistening blueberries, and brilliant summer squash tickled her senses as she stopped to chat with a Grecian selling varieties of humus and pita. Perusing the fresh selections, she toted a bag of fresh strawberries on one arm and held a can of soda in the other hand, the sun gently streaming down on everything. As she walked down the remaining isles, back to her car, she realized that the simplicity of her day had been previously under appreciated and so she made it her goal to move closer to the places that offered simplicity in colorful heaps and antiquity on wooden shelves.

"cosmic love"

Today I sat alone and didn't give a shit. Literally could have cared less. I was early for a test due to my mom's inability to schedule things in an organized manner (love you mom), and I sat down listening to Florence Welch kick ass with her mystical vocals, and just didn't care. Flashback: about a year ago (probably less) in this exact situation I would have nervously fumbled for my phone sending text messages to myself and pretending to have some long-ass conversation with some imaginary person JUST TO LOOK LIKE I WASN'T LONELY. I laugh. But today, I sat until my space was swarmed with lunch goers who found me to be an intrusive oddity to their luncheon spot. I moved to a wall and stared at my feet until suddenly there were people I knew around me. I had no idea they were even there. I'm somewhat convinced that I sucked myself into my own brain for a good half an hour and thought of absolutely nothing...like a brain recharge or something. Anyways, point is that I'm not that desperate-to-prove-people-know-me-and-i-have-friends-and-i'm-not-lonely girl anymore! Three cheers!! I'm probably on some path to independence which I should have dragged my ass onto long ago, but now that I'm about to graduate, I guess I'm just completely unamused by strangers' opinions of me. Listen up, go sit by yourself somewhere in public. Seriously, just go sit if you're somewhat like me and are realizing that sitting alone is almost breaking a social norm. It's "normal" to be in a pack or with a pal all the time, and when we're not, we feel really super awkward (I do!!!!) and then when you're reunited with your big bad friends, you feel indestructible. Go let your brain recharge and breathbreathbreathbreathbreathbreath/ lovelovelovelovelovelovelovelove yourself.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^                                          Recharge  ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

teen vogue and a novel

I'd like to be an author and I'd also like to live within the great wide world of fashion. I'd like to dress a model/actor for a photo shoot, but I'd also like to write a profound and meaningful story about a young woman in the roaring twenties. I picture myself in front of a rack full of fabulous pieces of a designer's collection waiting for me to sculpt the perfect spring outfit for Emily Blunt's appearance on Vogue. I picture myself pacing in my cold apartment with a tape recorder telling myself a story with papers littering the floor with my desperately scrawled handwriting trying to collect itself into a novel.
What do I do? I'm going to school for journalism which will contribute...in some form to either profession. I could start by writing fashion pieces on the rise of 70's inspired fashion, or I could write short stories for magazines and local newspapers. *sigh* so many possibilities. I almost drool at the thought of interning for Teen Vogue and working my way up until I'm the one dressing everyone else. Maybe I'll write novels on the side...but what to do. I've ignorantly condemned fashion school due to the probably stuck-up people who attend, but then I realize that those people are everywhere and that I am a moron. I can't sew for my life, though, my mom is a master seamstress, so perhaps it will come naturally..or perhaps not. There are things I need to learn, but I'm thinking that the world of fashion calls loudest and that I shall welcome it with a grand "HEY THERE"
So perhaps someday when you are reading a copy of Teen Vogue and you see....Emma Stone, or Kristen Stewart, or Michelle Williams, or Dakota Fanning on the cover...their outfits that command attention will be pieced together by yours truly...someday .

"it's better to help people than garden gnomes"

"Vous au moins vous ne serez jamais un légume : même les artichauts ont un coeur."-Amelie
Today my heart is in France amongst foreign strangers in a small cafe on a drizzling day. Bonjour.

TiMeEmItTiMeEmItTiME

I've fallen in love with the idea of life. This isn't a new theme to my blog, but I've been in a bit of a slum, unsure of what to write, so I post relevant bits of music instead. Everything feels okay at the moment, like I've just woken up from a deep and comfortable sleep.timetimetimetimetimetimetimetimetimetimetime...it's wizzing past me and everything I do is a fleeting glimpse of the future. When I spend time away from the house just to drive up the freeway, complain, laugh, run around, confess, play, be loud, i hold it all to the highest degree. It's already May and there's no time to not live. We haven't anymore time. One morning I'm going to open my eyes and realize that it will be my last morning waking up for the same reason.
We have reasons for everything and I'm starting to embrace the reasons for loving the people I do instead of pushing them away and bringing myself back to the inner corners of my mind. I am lonely, and I've got people to be lonely with. My friends never let me be lonely alone. We are the queens of the lonely people and there's no group I'd rather belong to. We're running with time.

It's a War

"Heartbreak Warfare" by John Mayor. - It's always appropriate. I hold it close. 

Meet My New Friends

Go get'em boys.