“Art washes away from the soul the dust of everyday life.” -Pablo Picasso

I love art. I grew up with an artist as a mother. She made watercolors and oil paintings and carved her own stamps to make floorcloths and sold things at art fairs. Later, as I got older, she bought a few kilns and made tiles. She actually tiled my grandparent's entire kitchen--It's beautiful. Here's a table she made:

 I wish the color was better in this photo, but alas. You'd think having such a talented mother, doodling and drawing and art would come naturally to me.

But that is not the case.

I can't draw worth crap. I inherited almost nothing. The problem is, I'm so visual that it would make sense because when I write, I picture scenes like they're from films--which in turn makes my writing a little heavy-handed and describing actions, expressions, and movements--but that's beside the point. I CAN'T DRAW. I can't even doodle well. I'm always trying to think of things to doodle in class because I'd get tired of writing, but when I failed or got tired of making swirls and stars, I'd go back to writing. That was my doodling. But back in the day, doodling wasn't art. I was taught art is in museums and on canvas, but never on the street or the margins of notebooks.

Until I discovered Banksy. Freshman year at IU at Urban Outfitters, I found a compilation of Banksy street art in a book. I was floored. I was hooked. I think growing up helped too--seeing more of the world and growing up so that you see it differently, you realize art is all around you, in books, in streets, on skin, in hair, on jewelry, in museums, in yards, in my mother's studio-it's all art, created by someone to cause an emotion, whether it's happiness or sadness or one of annoyance because those street kids fucked up the parking garage walls again. I'm trying to get better at art and because I can't create 3-dimensional objects with shading and perspective, even if I logically understand it in my head, I searched for what the world of artistic  doodlers were doing and found this article today:

"42 great examples of doodle art"
(http://www.creativebloq.com/illustration/doodle-art-912775) from creativebloq.com

So interesting! And again, I find myself wishing I could draw. For now though, I'm content at appreciating and doing my own little copies as practice until I can doodle as well as the masters.



If you want to see more Banksy, here:

"BANKSY WAS HERE: The invisible man of graffiti art."
BY LAUREN COLLINS MAY 14, 2007
http://www.newyorker.com/reporting/2007/05/14/070514fa_fact_collins

http://www.banksyny.com/

http://banksystreetart.tumblr.com/

Movie poster of the day:

STOKED, to say the least.

Song of the day: "Flaws" by Bastille. Here's a gorgeous acoustic version.

Weather of the Day: SHIT. Indiana November approaches.

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Sometimes I get really disheartened...but I'll never quit.

I found an article: "How to Create a YA Phenomenon, in Nine Easy Steps" by Amanda Dobbins.
(http://www.vulture.com/2013/10/how-to-create-a-teen-phenomenon.html?mid=twitter_vulture) I read YA because I write YA. Sue me. Then go read your dull, "classic" novel and get back to me about how incredibly not fun it was.

I've been writing my whole life. People say that all the time and I've said that before on this very blog. But when I say I write all the time, I mean constantly, consistently, my stories are tickling the back of my brain, shattering my focus, interrupting other things. Last night, I had a thought and and I'm always worried I'll forget these grand, majestic, intelligent thoughts and so I shouted out of the shower to my boyfriend down the hall--but of course he didn't hear me. Normal people would carry on with their warm shower, telling themselves they'd remember, and if they forgot, it apparently wasn't important, or maybe go so far as to repeat it to themselves...

I'm not normal people, apparently.

I jumped out of the shower, dripping wet, face wash beads still gritty on my palm, wrapped a towel around myself, and ran out into the FREEZING COLD APARTMENT. I had not expected the apartment to be SO DAMN COLD. But there I was, shivering and jumping up and down in the doorway to the living room, our patio door blinds slit open to the night--I'm sure there were students walking out there or at the very least, our Asian neighbors out for smoke breaks. But I stood there and I made sure he jotted down my idea on a piece of paper before darting back into my haven of warmth. I'm pretty sure he was still laughing when I returned in my PJs.

Sometimes I get really disheartened. I think, "oh, I'll never be like those published authors, I'll never finish a book, no one wants to read this shit." But "this shit" consists of 100s of pages I've written, that I've put time and attention into. It can't be for nothing, it just can't. I've been writing since before I can remember. My mother helped me make entries for contests as young as kindergarten. I won awards in fourth grade and by seventh grade, I'd handwritten a 100-page book--granted there was no plot, no nothing, but it was there. I've never stopped. I filled up the backs of my notebooks in and out of class, I stayed in when my friends invited me out to write--and watch Buffy the Vampire Slayer in the evenings. I'm sure my teachers of high school, if they ever remember me, they'll remember that I sat and I wrote and I didn't pay attention. I have most of those notebooks still, sitting in crates like my own personal library on my own personal history. I just wish I'd been more organized about my creative sprees because nothing is organized.

I keep writing because I could never stop. That's never been an option. It's not just a hobby, it's something present in my everyday life, whenever I'm not doing what I'm supposed to be doing--and often during that too--I'm thinking about writing. It's this feeling that bubbles beneath the surface, of creation and imagination and a hint of magic--the feeling I get when I read Harry Potter or Narnia novels, and any of the other books that first inspired me. I just hope it's not all for nothing. I hope I finish something. And I hope it's good. I hope I can be proud of it. I hope others like it. And if they don't, I hope I like it enough not to care.

And I tell myself there's no rush, but I see all these authors who are young writing for young people getting published and getting movie deals... I want to be that! And so do thousands of other people. Here comes the disheartening feeling, lashing through my good vibes. Great. Awesome. Moving on.

The best I can do is keep going--ending will turn up and the pieces will fill in, and someday, I'll have what they call a complete-looking novel.

Band of the Day: Bastille (I'm obsessed)

Tweet of the Day: Banter, banter. Love napnapnaps!

Book I can't have yet of the Day: Allegiant!! I want to read it soooo bad. Alas.

Book I finished of the Day: Brom's The Child Thief

It was so good--a dark, twisted, a dark, twisted, gory, mythological, f-word-heavy retelling of Peter Pan with fantastical art, beats from legend and myth, and plenty of shocking moments due to gore+children+zombie pirates+cursing... I recommend, though it's long and my interest wavered in the middle part. But I liked it.

Quote(s) of the Day: 

“If you don't learn to laugh at life it'll surely kill you, that I know.” ― Brom, The Child Thief

“Don't let them win. Don't let them beat you. Don't let them steal your magic.” ― Brom, The Child Thief

“And Peter laughed, and when he did, all the Devils grinned, because Peter's laugh was a most contagious thing.” ― Brom, The Child Thief (The Devils are the Lost Boys, and this line is repeated throughout, that his laugh was a most contagious thing. I love it.)

To learn more: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/6308379-the-child-thief

Have a stupendous day!

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Part of where I'm going, is knowing where I'm coming from...

I'm not generally a lonely person. I get lonely, as most humans do, but I'm not lonely. I however, do enjoy my alone time. I moved in with my boyfriend Bogey (obviously not his real name guys...though that would be funny), and figuring out how to go form long distance (an hour away from each other, not bad) to sharing most of our entire days together was certainly an adjustment I had to go through. Bogey is in med school, so his activities include studying and TV and being social. He doesn't read like I do (not that he doesn't enjoy it), he doesn't write or spend time doing crafts for hours like I can (though he is pretty crafty when he puts his mind to it). It was hard. I can entertain myself for LITERALLY hours, writing, readings, messing around with old notebooks and journals, the Internet, obviously, Tumblr, making playlists, crafting and collage-ing... But he's just not like that as much. I would feel bad when he was looking for something to do meanwhile I had too much to do. He would of course tell me it was stupid to feel bad that he was short on hobbies, but I honestly did! And of course, during the first few months, we spent every minute together, like we were catching up on time form the last two years when he's lived in Bloomington when we weren't at work or school. I went through a crisis realizing that I wasn't writing anymore--that sort of relates to how time- and energy-consuming my internship was over the summer--but I didn't know how to find balance.

But now I have.

 I think the two biggest key components for me were 1. Getting a job I liked that didn't drain my soul of the energy to create and thrive and 2. Getting comfortable enough with living with another human being. I had to realize that Bogey wasn't going anywhere, we are both in this apartment and it's going to stay that way, us together, and getting comfortable enough to say, "no, Bogues. I am going to go over here and cut shit out of magazines and collage for a bit while listening to the entire Phildel Youtube playlist because that's what I do and that's what I want to do now." When you move in with someone, you have to unveil all those quirks about yourself. It's like the early stages of a relationship again, like when you both admitted you're normal human beings with flatulence after you eat Mexican food. He knows I collage--I used to collage the walls of my room with magazine cutouts--but he hadn't seen the scrapbooks I've filled. He knows I write and fill up notebooks, but he hadn't really seen inside the two crates of notebooks I've been carting around for years and he hadn't been there when I woke up in the middle of the night with an idea and gone stumbling around in the dark for a bit of paper and a pen (I've written an idea on my hand before in the dark so I wouldn't forget it. Then I slept on my hand. Bet you know how that ended.)

Either way, moving in with a significant other is a HUGE step. I come from a fairly old-fashioned family and when Bogey asked me, I thought of my grandma and what she would think. Luckily I have a beautiful, amazing older cousin who took the dive first. (Thank you cousin!) But it's not about what others think, if they say you should or shouldn't, ultimately, like everything else, moving in is something you have to decide with yourself. And we do it to see (hopefully) if that significant other might be a forever person. It makes you re-evaluate what is private and what isn't. And it's just another step closer to adulthood. Lately, every new thing that happens makes me think of my parents, and sometimes even my grandparents--they were kids once too, they went through this too, they very well might have felt exactly like me. I find that fascinating. I've always been interested in my roots. Maybe it's because I feel like if I know where I came from, I can know where I'm going. (Yes, that is a Gavin DeGraw song quote. Guess what the new title is changing to from: "Alone together--Living with someone, but making room for ME time." That sounded like an awful self-help book anyways.)

I'm happy with my life. And I'm happy with my life with Bogey. Sometimes it's just a good idea to take the dive and see what happens--unless it's off a bridge, even if your friends are doing it too.

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I GOT STYLE, letmetellyouwhat, and other thoughts on grown-up fashion

My goodness. This also sums up my life SO well. It's so good to know that though we are all entering into this sort of quarter-life crisis where, for the first time, we don't quite get the younger generation, the Internet understands and brings us all together. "29 Underrated Things About Being in your Twenties." (http://www.buzzfeed.com/jessicamisener/29-underrated-things-about-being-in-your-late-twenties) This article relates to my last few posts and today, I want to address another change I've noticed in my life.

My style.

This morning, while getting dressed, I had to make a decision: Do I dress like an "adult" that my co-workers would approve of, meaning dressing safe, or so I go all out--dress, tights, little wild-colored belt, heels... because today, I'm leading a meeting on my own and I, though I am ashamed to admit it, what to be taken seriously.

Who'd have ever thought?

I think my sense of style has actually, surprisingly taken off since starting my adult job. I have to where business casual, meaning dressing nice. I was never one to wear yoga pants to class honestly--mostly because of the jobs I held and amount of time I spent on campus at any one time (like all day most times) and the fact that I don't have a car, so I biked and walked to school. Year round. Man. I don't miss that for one second! I know, I know, save the environment, you should be biking to work because you live downtown and it's just on the other side of downtown... but it's Indiana, it's cold, it rains when it's cold, and you know what, I've been car-less since 2008. It's my turn to drive, people!

It's just funny how your style can change. We hung out with the skater kids in middle school. I wore Vans and Etnies even though I didn't skate--and Jesus I still miss those Etnies. It was like a pillow around my feet all day erryday. Then I moved to Chucks. My main group of friends in high school were not like me at all. They loved rap, for starters. I hated rap. But I listened to it to fit in. They didn't read, they liked to party a lot, they didn't get my staying in and writing... we were just different. But lack of other people for a long time kept me with them. When I met Amanders in 9th grade, we had some rocky moments, but she is my best friends still today (another thing the article/list mentions is how you weed out the hanger-on-ers to find your true friends). Amanders (not her real name, guys, come on) rocked chucks, mismatched socks, and wore basically whateverthefuck she wanted. She was the total opposite of me and everything I wanted to be. She would always pick out outfits that were daring and crazy, but I'd be too scared to wear them.

That's changed now, of course

I have my own style. But what leaves a part of me a little sad is that I've left the chucks behind for flats and heels and cute boots. My ripped flared jeans for khakis. I wear dresses and tights, and in high school, you couldn't catch me dead in a dress unless I was at a dance or something. There are no Crayola colored streaks in my hair, my lip ring has been gone since 2011, and I coordinate my jewelry.

The inner 16-year-old in me can't decide if she's impressed or disgusted.

I am a bit backwards in that I want tattoos now when I haven't even remotely, not the slightest inkling of a wish, wanted tattoos for the first 23 years of my life. Now I do. I always get into tihngs later than my peers. Sigh.

So now I pass my forgotten chucks, left in the hallways unworn for weeks with a sigh of sadness and nostalgia, slide my feet into my newest flats, put on my tailored blazer, and head to work. It's funny because my mother would approve. And I'm still struggling to accept that that is okay. I think that I'm afraid of when I have children and them looking at me and calling my skinny jeans "mom jeans" or making fun of my v-necks or my chucks or some other random article of clothing I can't let go of. I guess I hope to stay a fashionable mom.I think fashion has changed a lot since our parents were our age--so many more things are acceptable and "in." In fact, mom jeans in certain circles ARE in. I guess I'll just try to remember that any time I start worrying if my clothes are cool enough, remember their opinions don't matter because they'r emy kids, pull on my skinnies and chucks and 80s-style Raybans carry on, telling them they just don't know what's cool.

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My quarter-life crisis explained by this amazing article:

      Whilst perusing the Interwebs, I found this article on hellogiggles.com: "Hey 90s Kid, You're Old: Coping with the new Generation Gap." Holy crap this is just what I need!
http://hellogiggles.com/hey-90s-kids-youre-old-coping-with-the-new-generation-gap by TARYN PARRISH
      Because on one hand, I graduated college a little later than usual, making me one of the oldest in my friend group. I also have a lot of friends a little older--I graduated in 2007 from high school and many of them graduated in '06 and '05. So I'm used to being slightly older and slightly younger. Obviously we can all relate to the same things--that's why we're friends. We like and hate similar things. But entering the workforce, all I hear is YOU'RE SO YOUNG and OMG DO YOU EVEN KNOW WHAT A FLOPPY DISC IS? No, seriously, I was asked that at my internship over the summer by a girl only 2 years older than me. And I would like to respond with YES, I DO. I IN FACT STILL OWN SOME. BOOYAH. But seriously! People will point out how young you are every two minutes if they're 5 or more years older than you, meanwhile you are starting to realize you are getting old. I'm going through a crisis AND YOU AREN'T HELPING. Of course I take it as a compliment at first. Until you mention it every time I timestamp something with, "Oh, I was 16 when that CD came out" or "Yeah, I wasn't allowed to watch that movie when it came out because I was too young" or "my first CD was 98 Degrees."
      But the people I'm around, including a 16-year-old brother, are often a generation behind me, whether the internet defines kids born in the mid-to late-90s as millenials or not (they aren't, if you're calling late 80s-early 90s millenials). I can't relate to my brother any more than he can relate to me. Thank god, at least he's watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer on his own. I can't describe how I'm feeling, but it's uncomfortable. I'm too young for one generation and too old for another. So maybe I'll just stick to my friends. At least they understand me when I say Hocus Pocus scared me as a kid and know all the words to "I'll Make a Man out of You" from Mulan.

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I'm becoming my mother

Shit. Right? That's my first reaction. There's that cliche in existence that we all become our parents eventually, whether we want to or not. Of course, our teenage selves shake our fists at such a notion. "I'll never be my parents" I always said--of course, one of them is a selfish, abusive alcoholic so I've steered clear of that fate.
But my mother? I already look like her--dark hair, dark eyes, and other hints here and there, though we've determined I inherited my father's straightass nose. I already sound like her too, sometimes I laugh and it's my mother's voice coming from my mouth, not my own.
And please, don't misunderstand me. I love my mother. When she needs to vent, though I hate it, I will sit on the phone with her for hours and let her vent at me. I have wiped my mother's tears, held her hand through hardships, given her money when she was between teaching paychecks, just like she's done for me. My mother is one of the strongest women that I know. She has done all she can to keep us together through the shit storm that is my father.
But... I don't want to be her. I also fear if she ever sees this. The last thing I'd ever want to do is break my mother's heart. But I don't want to be her. Don't we all dive into life trying to escape our parent's mistakes? Promising to fix them, to be better because of them. Sometimes it doesn't happen--like with my younger brother now. But I don't want to marry someone who treats me like my father treated her (check that one off, because it would never happen, though I did date someone like my father and got pretty wrecked during the exit and blah blah I'm a better person now because of it blah). I don't want to hate some many things about my body as it ages. I don't want to raise children to turn out like my brothers have--disrespectful, self-conscious, selfish, rude, disobedient, self-harming... These things are not all her fault. Of course they aren't. My mother had loved us more than we'll ever know--and a lot of it is my father, of course, and his influence.
This got super serious and dark pretty fast, let's lighten up.
I also have a mother who had worn turtlenecks her whole life. I know, I know, they're back in. But the cotton ones reminds me of elementary school, ones with little Christmas trees on them or something. They always made me feel like I was choking. And then, of course, the 2000s came along and they were SO not in. It's certainly a generational thing.
My mother had always risen early, enjoyed way too many cups of coffee, etc. I used to think HOW DO YOU DRINK SO MUCH COFFEE?? (I still do, sometimes). And until this year, I did not enjoy rising early. I did not enjoy getting up before 8 am. Back as a freshmen in college, I didn't get up before 11 am. Jesus Christ I almost just had a heart attack looking at that. I've been at work since 7 am and it's not even 11 yet!
Basically, I look as my mom, I hear her commanding "mom-voice" I look at her clothes, her analogies she makes, the things she enjoys, how little time she has to herself with a 16-year-old kid still living with her at 52 and I can see it all coming on. I enjoy cooking as my evening activity. I like when my boyfriend and I match when we go to weddings. I RUN. I like my coffee in the morning and getting up early doesn't bother me in the slightest. I wear clothes my mother approves of. I no longer dream about dying my hair bright crayola-crayon colors. I admonish my younger brother and he actually sort of listens! Now, I still hate turtlenecks and I still rock out to Blink 182, Simple Plan, and Linkin Park when they're on the radio, remembering my punk-ier days, but it's in the past. I'm never getting that stuff back. And I think it's kind of STAGGERING, this realization that I'm becoming like my mother, an adult in my own right. We cut my hair last week and it even resembles my mother's now.
These thoughts make me want tattoos and to dye my hair and crazy color still, because I certainly have a streak of rebellion. And I hope it never leaves. I love my mother. But I will try and accept this growing older thing, accept the wrinkles and sagging skin and I will marry a good person she can be proud of. All I really want is to make her proud, in the end. And you know, it's from her I get my strength, it really is. So maybe turning into my mother wouldn't be such a bad thing.
As long as I don't have to wear turtlenecks.

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Here we go again

This was supposed to be a thing I did, an account of my experiences looking for jobs after graduating college. I failed. But I have a job! It's an 18-month contract at Lilly, a pharmaceutical company. I'm a new contract technical writer for them, meaning I was hired by an outside company and will be paid by them for my work here--work study on a larger scale, basically. And though the work is boring, the hours, the people, and the food are amazing.

So I got lucky. I know a lot of my friends are struggling to find permanent positions, I know a lot of them worked hard to get their positions--I got lucky in the fact that a recruiter found my resume online and contacted me with this job and I got it, easy peasy. I know people are happy for me, which is cool, because I've had a lot of trough breaks over the years, and I know that I went back to an event for the lit mag I ran to see how the new staff is doing and the faculty adviser/former professor of mine told me he basically expected me to still be jobless. That'll happen, I guess. If you're an asshole.

Point being--wait, there is no point. I'M A MOTHERFUCKING WORKING WOMAN NOW BITCHES. And now that I have a set schedule and internet access and a cool computer with me at all time, I will be blogging. And if I don't, I will get in trouble with myself. Like no Otis Spunkmeyer cookies for a week or something (and if you think that's not good enough, you obviously haven't had one of their cookies fresh and hot). These are topics I will be covering:

• Life
• how my life is changing
• the quarter life crisis I'm currently in
• why it's sad I don't have a smart phone yet
• friends
• family
• advice
• shit I like (movies, books music, TV, coffee, more!)
• and all those good things.

So. If you're reading this, I promise to come back. And be more entertaining. I've been up since 6. give me a break.

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From the desk of... not the intern's desk bc THE COMPUTER's BEEN BROKEN FOR DAYS

Hey. So. You know when life throws you curve balls? Like right in your face? I live in a moderately sized city--Indianapolis, IN is the 13th largest city in the US after Jacksonville, FL and before San Francisco, CA (information courtesy of Wikipedia). Go us. Either way, it's a 30 minute drive from downtown to the suburbs before you factor in traffic during rush hours. I live downtown right next to the IUPUI campus (that's two-university campus right there. Indiana University and Purdue University, mortal enemies at best, decided to team up and create tons of campuses. The only PU majors are in the sciences and mathematics, everything else is IU). We live there because it's near the main IU Med School campus where Bogey attends. I got an internship 45 minutes away and drive to and from every day--which sucks--but what sucks more is when the med school tells Bogey his next rotation's location 3 days before it starts and the location is 86th St. at a hospital located there. I'm at 96th St. Doesn't sound like a problem? Just wait. We have 1 car, Bogey's car which I use to get to my 8-5 job. This surgery rotation's hours are going to be basically anytime ever-- 6 am to 3 pm to 4 pm to 9 pm to midnight... he has on call days etc. His friend went through the ringer at another hospital during his surgery rotation. So we had 3 days to figure out how to get me to my work with set hours so he could use the car. I think we might instead just wing it for 4 weeks.

Fun.

But I'll do it. Because I love him. It's an adventure right? It's all an adventure.

I probably won't be saying that if I have to drive him to the hospital at 5 am, but there it is.

Photo of the Day:

"Not now Aunt Em... I'll get the eggs, don't worry!"

Book of the Day: 

I'm obsessed with Cassandra Clare's novels. When the first ones came out, The Mortal Instruments (it's first installment City of Bones will be out in theaters in August!!!!) I blew through them, but not as fast as I read The Infernal Devices, which are a prequel to the present day TMI. Instead, TID's novels are set in Victorian London, with werewolves and vampires and warlocks and shadowhunters, part human part angel fighters of evil. Clare weaves this underground world of magical creatures and good and evil through the gritty present day NYC (in TMI) and dirty, historical London so beautifully that alone hurts my heart. And then the characters and heartbreak and the unrequited love... well, fuck. I finished this last night, tears in my eyes and made my bf, who has no idea really what the books are about, hug me for 5 minutes straight. He was a good sport about it thanks god.

Group who rocks of the day: Pentatonix

Aren't they cute? Here are my two favorite videos found today:

"The Wizard of Ahhhs" By Pentatonix and Todrick Hall (both have Youtubes btw, and you should check them out!)

"The Evolution of Music" by Pentatonix. This one is just fun. :)

They also have a Radioactive by Imagine Dragons cover with Lindsay Sterling, the cutest dancing violinist I ever did see and it's amazing.

Quote of the Day:

And with that thought, I'll be leaving to get back to actual work I'm supposed to be paid for.
:)

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July 12, 2013: From the borrowed desk of intern extraordinaire...

Video and Song of the day:

Phildel "Storm Song" --Utterly beautiful and haunting... a little bit of Enya's haunting and magical melodies, a little bit of Ingrid Michaelson's singer/songwriter cuteness, a little bit of awesome. Just gorgeous. Artist of the Day: Bruno Walpoth  (http://www.walpoth.com/) Just awesome.

Most Money I've spent of the Day: 159$ on Holiday World tickets. Bullshit. Except I'm hoping they're worth it because this place has these:

I'm just sad to have parted with so much paycheck the same day I got it.

WOOHOO!

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Of the days...

I would like to start doing this:

Song  & Video of the Day: Ed Sheeran "Give Me Love":

I can't stop listening to it! And it's a GORGEOUS video featuring Isabel Lucas (actress).

Picture of the Day:

Because I would like to be there now. Simple as that.

Quote of the Day:

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This is how you Adult...

Growing up, you look at your parents and they're ADULT. They're GROWNUP. But how did they get that way? My mom would tell me she had he first beer at 16 and she went to frat parties in college, but here she is, getting up at 6 am to enjoy her coffee and eat breakfast, day after day after day, sending us off to school and wearing heels. And my father, he WAS a frat boy, for a time. But when I was little, he wore suits and had a beer belly and meetings... how did they get to where they were?

I think as a kid, and a teenager, you have this perception that adults have everything figured out because they take care of you and they know things you don't. But the truth is, they're often making it up as they go along. I would freak out at the idea of having a child when I was younger--18, 19-- knowing I didn't have the know-how yet to do that. The thing is, I won't until it's happening. Which is how you learn to manage money and buy a house and pay bills. Everyone figures it out as they go along, but growing up, that's something I could never have comprehended or guessed at.

And I'm sure my mother had this realization, and maybe even my grandmother or grandfather. But this is mine. This is it. My closet is changing from t-shirts and jeans and chucks to flats and heels and slacks and khakis and dressy tops. My boyfriend's side is morphing from tie-dye tees and ironic Woot t-shirts to dress shirts and ties and polos. Our alarms go off before 8 a.m. I use a tank of gas a week to get to work when I have been riding a bike or a bus or my own two feet for 5 years. I am able to watch 1, maybe 2 hour-long episodes of TV a night. Not of my shows, mind you, but ones both Bogey and I are watching because that's the only time we have to hang out. Due to evening time constraints, I also only get to read for about an hour a night, a book I would probably read in one sitting because I'm so into it. I haven't even found time to go in my study room and write. I used to spend hours sitting in front of my computer, on tumblr, then youtube, doing whatever I wanted, then writing. But there's no time to dillydally. If I want to write, I can't wait for the inspiration, I have to schedule it in and just do it. But I haven't. Inside, I feel like my creative energy, my storylines and ideas are bottled up, fizzing under the surface like raw energy, just waiting to be used but I can't bring myself to find the time. I think I'm so attached to my old life still, the time and the non-structure of it, that I can't bring myself to give up TV or reading or any one thing, but it's my writing that is getting hurt worst because I come home and that would be the ideal time to write--6 p.m. or so, but instead, Bogey's there and I want to see him, so we flop on the couch and watch TV and soon, it's 8 p.m. and I'm not feeling it anymore. I don't know how to make it work. I'm changing and how I function in every day life is changing and I feel like I'm trying to grasp at grains of sand that are slipping through my fingers because I'm not sure I'm ready to live this way. This rigid schedule and zero time for anything and this eating healthy business and the 8-5 job with morning traffic commute and I just feel like I'm spiraling sometimes!!!

And I do spiral. All I've been able to focus on this week is how much I hate the commute. How much I'm starting to dislike my job. How much I'm not writing, which I then internalize and start being angry at myself. I'm afraid this unhappiness is going to spread. The thing is, this place might hire me full time at the end of the internship in August. With that, comes PTO and possibly benefits. I'd be stupid not to take it. But what if I start hating my life? What if I never find time to WRITE?? Writing is my life, my being, my breathing and thinking, all day all the time, my brain is always imagining parts of a story. It's what makes me feel alive.

When I get too focused on something I'm unhappy about, I fail to see the big picture. My life will not always be like this. This will not be my career. And someday, I'll get to the point where I'm at a job I love, because I know myself and I know I won't stop until that's true. I will find time to write because if I don't, I'll die or explode and I'm not willing for that to happen. I'm only 24. My life is just beginning. I repeat these things and try not to think that the author of Divergent is 24 too, that Emma Stone is a year younger than me, that my good friend LP is in LA making clothing lines and being in music videos and modeling. I just need to focus on me. I know better than anyone that everyone has a different timeline in their paths of life.

So. I'm becoming an adult. I still squeal about Disney movies and cry to Doctor Who, and eat popsicles, but I also I wear slacks to work and drink 2 cups of coffee a day, and work 8-5 and I don't even have time to color my hair, let alone read a magazine for fun. But I am functioning. And life will get better.

Today I will go home. And I will either run with my bf and then shower and eat and then write, or I will go write and then do the following activities. But I will write. And if I can do that, just for an hour even, I will have succeeded for the day.

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Surviving...

Obviously, keeping up with this did not happen as beautifully as I had envisioned. Since I've been away I have

1. Started my new job at a billion-dollar company, a real estate agency, where I create things in the marketing department for brokers, etc.
2. Moved in with my boyfriend.
3. Created a real home-type space with painted walls, hung art, plants, and the smell of cooking every night.
4. Experienced one of the coldest June/Julys ever. I mean, it was 68 degrees this morning in Indianapolis.Last year, we had a fireworks ban at this time last year because it was so hot and dry.
5. Attempted to figure out how to find time to do stuff. Bogey's 3rd year consists of M-Sat rotations at various hospitals in different specialities. He could go anywhere from 4 pm to 9 pm. Sometimes earlier, sometimes later. I work 8-5 with a 30-45 minute drive through rush hour traffic. I get home at 6 and want to accomplish eating, hanging with the bf, cooking, working out, reading, writing, cleaning, and hopefully watching an episode of TV. Oh and showering is important too, especially if I managed to work out--BUT I CAN'T FIGURE IT OUT. For instance, today, instead of working out, we ate dinner bc I got home late bc I went to Target. After that, we just watched Copper bc why not? it's already 8pm. Then shower, then an episode of Doctor Who, and then Bogey goes to bed at 10 or earlier bc rounds start at 6 (or earlier). I haven't been writing. I used to write every day multiple times a day, in different stories. My creativity is screaming.
6. Went to Ireland for 10 days with Bogey's family. IT WAS AWESOME. I want to the UK when I was 14 for 21 days, but it was a whirlwind and I was young. This was amazing and I was incredibly lucky to get to go.

All of these things I wish to write more about because they have been adventures in themselves. But what prompted me to stop feeling guilty about not writing on here and start again is today, I had a moment.

Now, I have these sometimes--it's when I just kinda become a shitty person (my words). I am selfish and I can't control my anger. I fly off the handle and I get defensive over little things and argue without thinking. I have a major chip on my shoulder and daddy issues and my father's anger. I have low self-confidence and get depressed easily. When something goes bad, I focus on it, start thinking things are impossible, and spiral. Red, hot, sometimes blinding anger. I also get less articulate the angrier I get, of course. All of these thing I HATE about myself. And when the right mood strikes, I become a les-than-fun person to be around. Bogey and I were simply talking about how I was going to ask my step-father to possibly get on his phone plan because mine is crazy expensive. He, Bogey, my beautiful bf is so goddamn levelheaded, sometimes I hate him for it! He's so calm and collected, thinking everything out, responding to me in the perfect way, giving helpful advice and criticism in turn. He was giving me advice to stop and think if the step dad acted weird about the idea (his sons haven't been kind to his pocketbook in these same situations). I have no intention of letting him pay it of course, I'm 24 and getting paid very well right now. Bogey was telling me to not get defensive, but to keep calm, rationalize, and respond to him if he brought up his sons or mine or anything that I would normally get defensive about. I ended up arguing with him, saying "I know, I know, I know," like he was a nagging mother, getting defensive WITH HIM. Soon, I was thinking about all the horrible things about myself and I just said I hated myself out loud because I couldn't stand how a conversation about keeping calm had ended up with me judging me self-worth again based on all my failings in the past to act like a logical, sweet, smart, nice human being instead of a little shit. And what did my boyfriend do? He just told me he loved me, kissed me, and exited gracefully. I took a shower and met him in the living room and stated "I'm sorry (which I generally say about every 2 minutes in these types of situations) and I'm just plain effing crazy. I'm sorry." And he just looked at me and said "But you're my crazy."

I swear, the more repulsive I think I am the more he loves me. It's all I can do to not think about what if the scales become imbalanced someday, what if the crazy mood swings and immature behavior and bad self-image get to him... But I revel in the fact that they don't. It's glorious. He's amazing. I don't honestly know what I'd do without him. 

We've had tons of friends get married over the past few years, it's just that time of our lives, but now until I moved in with Bogey a month and a half ago did people start talking about us as getting married in the future, asking about when and etc. It literally did not happen until this year, and now our friends say it like they're stating it's 2013. My mother's been going on for a year or more, but the rest of the people who know us have joined her bandwagon. I always tell her to stop because she'll jinx it. I'm so afraid of this getting jinxed. But I find that now, I accept it too, in the back of my mind, which is surprising to me. I mean, it's not like I'm one of those child-of-divorce kids who hates love and doesn't believe in marriage and blah blah blah. I want love and I want a white picket fence and I want pinterest shit on my walls and I want babies to love with a better father than I had. But I've been through enough awful crap to be tentative and careful. It's kept me from admitting things until they're not just on the horizon, but ten feet from my face. And I'm okay with that. It's been a walk in the park actually, we've never discussed anything before I felt ready to. He said I love you first and suggested a future home we might have first and I have always followed his lead. I trust that lead. I trust it with my life.

Guess that's good, seeing as I find myself daydreaming sometimes about him loving me until we're old. 

But that's enough for tonight. Hopefully I'm back. Because this is pretty fun :)

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I like this...

“The “wives, sisters, daughters” line of argument comes up all the fucking time. President Obama even used it in his State of the Union address this year, saying,

“We know our economy is stronger when our wives, mothers, and daughters can live their lives free from discrimination in the workplace, and free from the fear of domestic violence.”

This device, which Obama has used on more than one occasion, is reductive as hell. It defines women by their relationships to other people, rather than as people themselves. It says that women are only important when they are married to, have given birth to, or have been fathered by other people. It says that women are only important because of who they belong to.

Women are not possessions.

Women are people.

”

—

The Believer Logger: I am not your wife, sister or daughter Things can feel so unequal sometimes in our lives here int he US, but sometimes they don't. When people make profound statements because they aren't afraid to say this, it really helps me feel stronger as a person, a female, and a part of this society. (Found via Tumblr.)

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Is this feeling called...success?

     Do you ever have moments after intense days of stress and nail-biting-level-anxiety and you have consistently reevaluated your purpose or worth in life when things suddenly work out and you are forced to just sit back and go, "huh"? I don't know if that punctuation is correct there, but just bear with me.
     I had one of those moments yesterday. I have turned in maybe 5 applications and I went on one interview AND I GOT IT. They called when I was picking out an outfit to wear to my graduation reception thing (graduation is on Sunday and today I have a wedding. It's weird when you spend three days in formal wear, but we do what we must.) and they called between two outfits to tell me they wanted me to start on this ten-week internship next Thursday. Thursday! Which gives me Monday as official get-the-keys move-in day and Monday-Wednesday to pack! Whoo! And even the "midnight" premiere of Star Trek we're going to is at 8 p.m. Wednesday, which is a bit funny and super awesome for us old working stiffs :D When I hung up I went dancing into the living room in just my underoos and bra and my bf just laughed and laughed and then for course congratulated me. I've had friends go on multiple interviews and phone interviews and still have nothing. I haven't been this lucky in a long while.
     Of course, after these moments of extreme luck and when everything's working out, I just start wondering when the next dip towards bad luck will come. I shouldn't think like that, but it's hard. When I'm too successful, something has always dragged me back down. I win and then I lose. Of course, I know you can't appreciate the wins without the losses, but it's usually detrimental to me (my dignity or my wallet). Like I crash a car or get a ticket or miss a loan payment or a bill or something.
     Either way, I'm not going to dwell on ifs. I'm going to focus on the awesome, here and now. A wedding today, graduation tomorrow and a big dinner with family afterwards, a few days with the Bogey and picking up the keys to our first place Monday, Star Trek on Wednesday, new job Thursday... what could possibly go wrong?
     And even if it did, Silver Linings Playbook, in all it's beauty and wisdom has this line: "You have to do everything you can, you have to work your hardest, and if you do, you have a shot at a silver lining." I just watched it and it was a beautiful, offbeat story. I saw why it got all the awards. And though I don't struggle with mental health, etc. those people were beautiful and relatable and heartbreaking. And they tried to see the best in life. I want to do that too. I think the thing I need to focus on is feeling the success, not worrying when it will go away. I should be proud of myself. I should forget that things could go wrong--I don't so that if things do go wrong, I won't be caught off guard, but I hate being like that. So I'll fold the anxiety away in a little square and hide it in the back of my mind for now. It's time to feel like an adult and I won this round, life. I won.

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People I'd like to meet and befriend in real life....

1. John and Hank Green

Why? BECAUSE! They have helped change the way nerds are viewed and how we view ourselves through vlogging, awesome projects, and their simple philosophies of "Eliminating World Suck" and "DFTBA" and nerdfighters. I wish that I could have heard the beautiful things they talk about when I was in high school, when I was teased and hated on for liking nerdy things, for how I dressed, the music I listened to, the TV shows and movies I watched, meanwhile everyone was negative about helping others. It was cool to cheat on tests in my high school and smoke and drink and get into trouble. So I did those things, instead of what I really wanted to do--the writing and TV shows and movies I had to keep private. Luckily, I grew up and met TONS of people who love the same things I do. Hearing these brothers talk about issues in articulate, meaningful, and relatable ways keeps me coming back to their videos and hoping I can be so good as to pass on some of the values they discuss down to my own children someday. Eliminating Worldsuck is very important and these brothers are the biggest fighters against it, in my own humble opinion. I just wish I could hang out with them. I mean, Hank lives in Montana, but John happens to live in the same city as me. So though I would like to make jokes about stalking them to be friends, the fact that I recognized the dentist that John Green went to in one of his videos makes it way too creepy. Either way, DFTBA my friends!

2. Joss Whedon

Do I even need to explain why? Fine. Here: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Toy Story screenplay, Titan A.E. screenplay, Atlantis: The Lost Empire story, FIREFLY and SERENITY, Angel, Dollhouse, Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog, comic books, Cabin in the Woods and its mind-blowing reality in how it disintegrates every cliche horror movie plot ever, his casting choices, "The Ballad of Serenity," The Avengers, the Dr. Horrible soundtrack, the Once More With Feeling soundtrack, his strong female characters, his humor and his utterly astounding understanding on how plot, characters, emotions, and themes work in a piece. 

There's also this:

 

Suffice it to say I want to be best friends with him, or at the very least, have a beer with him and pick his brain. I hope he never stops.

The next few on the list are just because.

3. Emma Stone

Because she is just so gd cute. And down-to-earth-seeming. And willing to laugh at herself. I laugh at myself tons. It's a healthy practice. I know this is all stupid, but I'm just saying, it would be super fun to hang out with Emma Stone and laugh about things.

4. Jennifer Lawrence

Again, because she just seems awesome, down-to-earth, fun, full of some laughs, and relatable. I just think we'd get along. Creepy yet? Yeah. Let's back off. Either way, I LOVE HER :D lolz.

5. Robert Downey Jr.

Because he's intelligent and been through some rough times and HILARIOUS. I just want to sit and have a beer with RDJ and talk about LIFE. And possibly what it was like working with Joss Whedon.

6. Mumford and Sons

I got to see them at Bonnaroo a few years ago and they were simply charming. I think it'd be killer to just go to the pub and get a drink with them. Hear where their inspiration comes from to create these songs that remind me of the English countryside, dried flowers, and lost love. And I love how they dress. I would probably steel some vests from them.

7. Chloe Grace Moretz

Her acting is phenomenal and at 16, she's one of the most mature young persons ever to be put in front of a camera. I swear, I marvel at her. My little brother is 16, and though he is a boy, there is such a wide gap between them. He acts 12 and she acts 18. It's amazing. I love her fashion sense too. Maybe we could go shopping and she could give me some pointers.

8. J.K. Rowling

The charming, the intelligent, the creative Ms. Rowling. I'd love to pick her brain, ask her all those questions everyone wants to ask about Harry Potter and hopefully she wouldn't run away screaming. I love the heart and hope and love and everything else she created Harry Potter with and I'd want to ask some questions of my own about life and writing and everything else.

9. Emma Watson

Could we please just be friends? Haha. I think she's awesome. That's it. It'd be cool if she could just show me where she shops in London and I'd be happy as a squirrel.

Anyways. This list has gotten really vain since Whedon, so I'm done. I should go running now and stop putting it off.

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What makes a pointless day well-deserved?

Answer: A HANGOVER

I went out with my friend's parents to a wine tasting place and they just loaded up a card with near a 100$ on it and let us have at it. You got 2 oz. at a time and some of the 2 oz. were upwards of 10 dollars!! We felt like we were high-rolling, let me tell you. We sat outside in the downtown of Indy, listening to homeless saxophonists and eating fancy cheese and watching the sunset fade from the sky, reflected in the glassy facades of skyscrapers. And I. Got. Drunk. Lemmetellyouwhat.

Either way, I woke up today with a hangover that morphed into a migraine that wouldn't go away until about 7 pm tonight. Waking up was nice though, lying in the sunlight in just a tank top and undies, listening to my cat purr, wrapped in my blue-green-and-turquoise sheets knowing I have very few mornings left like this--because I'm moving in with the bf and because I hopefully will have a job soon.

Not soon enough though. Today I was also waiting around for the call from the place I interviews at on Monday. No call. So I read Divergent. Like the entire book. There are few things I'm good at and here they are (some, at least):

1. Reading fast. Today I read 487 pages in a day and a half. I bought the book (by one Veronica Roth) yesterday at about 3 pm. and didn't get to read it until I got home at 11:30 pm. Being smashed, not much reading occurred. This might be a new record. Previous records are Harry Potter 4 in 4 days, Clockwork Prince by Cassandra Clare in 3 days (that's two full study and work days too, and spending time with Bogey), and Harry Potter 7 in less than 12 hours, spread over 2 days. So I read fast.
2. I also have an insanely accurate memory for dates, names, characters, book and film plot lines, historical facts, quotes, and basically what happened at any one time. I remember my life well. How to do math... no so much.
3. Being clumsy--not to the point where I break bones, but bad enough that I ruin shirts, carpets, other people's clothing, dishes, my ankles or knees... Safe to say I both bruise easily in the sense that my skin bruises easily and I run into a lot of things. Easily. My friends called me Rube for awhile. After Rube Goldberg. The dude who invented contraptions like the one you find in the game Mouse Trap. Or the OK GO music video. Something happens to make something happen to make something happen over there. When I run into a table on one side of the room, I make things fall on the other side. Maybe I'm just telekinetic and don't know it.
4. Typing. I type pretty fast.
5. Creating stories. Finishing them is something I am attempting to learn how to do. But I write all the time, and I might've mentioned it before, so if I have, ignore this I guess, but I fill up notebooks with writing my own stuff, not notes in class. the back of the notebook fills up and meets with the notes sections, so that I run out of paper fast. I have crates of notebooks and in this upcoming year, my homework is to type up the important parts of those notebooks. I also have a weird process, maybe because I learned how to write stories on my own, just like how I pronounced integral wrong most of my life because I read alone. But when I have an idea, I start a story and I'll write on it when I have ideas, but if I'm feeling the other stories more, I'll write on those and so I jump around, never really finishing anything. Luckily, many of my stories have more ideas attached to them now as I've grown up--meaning endings. I just have to write the in-between stuff and focus on just one story, not 30.
6. Talking. I tell stories because I want people to laugh at what I laughed at, even if they're laughing at me. I like sharing my life story. I talk and talk and talk and because of this, I'm personable, but I'm also incredibly rude sometimes and interrupt constantly. I'm trying to work on it. It's hard.

So there's a bit of me, in a nutshell. Things influencing me currently:

• Macklemore & Ryan Lewis, The Heist (currently listening to)
• Divergent by Veronica Roth
• book stores
• picking up my cap and gown
• graduation plans
• hangovers
• wines
• fancy wines
• hangovers
• hot apartments
• mac and cheese
• Buffy the Vampire Slayer, season 5
• Doctor Who, season 3
• Needing a shower
• Shopping
• Forever 21, Target, Kohl's, Charlotte Russe
• jewelry
• fluffy kitties
• needing to pack
• bike riding
• beautiful days
• Nylon magazine
• Tangled
• Feeling like Ron Weasley and his dress robes when I got the wrong grad robes at first (joke courtesy of my friend Kelli)
• Ender's Game trailer!!
• This is the End trailer
• Did I mention Divergent? IT'S SO GOOD!
• Heels
• Interviews
• Sarah Dessen novels
• Sleepiness

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GO GO POWER RANGERS!

     So I have an interview tomorrow. Fun, right?
     WRONG.
     I'm terrified! I always go in thinking I'm going to be cool and smooth, but then I babble or my cheeks flame up and I get embarrassed over something or other...
     But all I need to do is breathe and be my beautiful charming self... minus my habit of telling stories constantly and interrupting people to do so. (It's terrible, really. Luckily, my friends and bf love me enough to overlook such bad etiquette).
     I'm not sure what to wear either. Skirt and heels? Skirt and flats? Skinny jeans and heels? I don't want to look like I'm going to church! But I don't want to look like I'm just going out for a night at the bars either. Dressy-professional-casual. That's what I want my outfit to say. Also classy. And awesome. And creative.
     And HIRE ME.
     But here goes nothing, right?

    Things I've done with my insane amounts of free-time so far since my last class:

• Watched 8 or 9 hours of Buffy season 4 and Angel season 1 (they parallel each other)
• Drank margaritas and played Euchre
• Helped my mother pack--but did not pack myself
• Did laundry at my moms--but only half of it because the rest didn't fit in my hamper
• Drove to my grandmother's in Hartford City, IN. (One of those towns that used to have industry and be nice, but is now falling into disrepair. Luckily, the gma lives out in the lovely countryside).
• Movie marathon of Clue, The Movie and Scott Pilgrim, plus pizza and cheesecake and cookies and Shocktop Honeycrisp Apple Wheat beer (awesome). Later that night, I ate Taco Bell. My body hates me.
• Almost got pulled over by a Sherriff for speeding (close call)
• Played with industrial-sized saran wrap while wrapping framed photos up for mi madre
• Slept on a love seat couch with my feet on a kitchen chair (did wonders for my already aching, screwed up back yay!)
• Played Wii--found I suck at frisbee golf on games as well as in real life
• Updated my Facebook status
• Read Catching Fire again
• Watched shit tons of Youtube
• Eaten candy and popcorn and Dr. Pepper all in one sitting
• Missed my boyfriend who I'm not seeing this weekend
• Tried to answer questions about graduation--(I don't know family members, I'm as lost as you are!)
• Stubbed my toe twice
• Hairdryered my hair straight and tore out half of it because the ends are awful and need cut off. Should have just let it air dry like usual.
• Renewed a textbook I rented out from the library in like February again because I've been too lazy to return it.
• Is this real life?
• Wrote out the Power Rangers theme song on my brother's status. He approved.

All in all a good start to being gradumacated. That's what it's called, right?

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Is this real life?!!?

I'm not sure how I feel yet, but I, as of five minutes ago, just turned in MY FINAL 8-PAGE LITERARY RESEARCH PAPER. I mean, I got to write it on films, so it was both fun and challenge--but I'm pretty sure most for the challenge was my procrastination, magical mind-block issues.

It certainly hasn't hit me yet. I'm not sure if it's going to tonight. Most likely not. Or tomorrow. When I graduated from high school it was the most anti-climactic day in my entire high school career. Maybe because it's supposed to be super climactic. But jsut to give you a picture of me in high school, picture forcibly straightened hair (because everyone straightened their hair back then) old jeans, chucks, and t-shirts I probably got at PacSun, sullen and lonely. Most of my "friends" graduated in January and I'd sorta started not hanging out with them as much. My actual friend, Amanders, who I met in 9th grade and is still my best friend, had half-days the last semester of our high school career. We met in honors English and biology and over the course of our four years at Shitty High School Midwest, USA we cultivated a friendship based on alternative bands (Taking Back Sunday was our favorite), chucks, cheating on honors tests, Tostitos chips, sleeping in class, paper airplane notes, drumstick wars, mutual love or hatred for teachers/preppy kids/anyone else, swim team, lip rings, aimless drives in my car, working at Mancino's and eating ourselves into cheesy garlic bread comas, awful fathers, and so much more. I was there where she had her baby March 7. It was amazing and gross and beautiful and glorious and I saw the whole thing. Her, her fiance, and I were crying as soon as brand new baby Kai hit her chest. Beautiful.

But I'm getting sidetracked. (He's just so goddamn cute!) Where was I? Oh yes. High school. Anti-climactic. Like a lot of things in high school.

(Was that too far?) Anyways. I was alone, I was the only person I liked still going to school all day everyday because I had to retake junior year math, my parents had been going through an awful, awful divorce for two years by that point, and I spent most of my days skipping classes to go hang out with my mom who substituted at my school three or four days out of the week. I hated Fort Wayne (sorry, Ft. Wayners), I hated my school, I hated everything. My last day of school I left halfway through the day because we were doing nothing in pre-calc, took my mom's car (with her permission), filled out some job applications at the mall, came back and got her for lunch (my mother, being a sub at school more often than not, took me off-campus to get lunch ALL the time. This was a strictly prohibited thing. My mom's so cool.) and then returned at the end of the day to get her. I waited in the hallway where Amanders and I had a locker, not really feeling nostalgic, and mom and I went home. The next day, because we'd had so many snow days, Amanders and I almost arrived late to line up for graduation. I might have felt a little nostalgic seeing classmates I'd known since kindergarten in our shit-brown gowns, but it quickly deteriorated because in a class of 470-something, my last name starts with R. So. Let's home that college graduation is a little more fun.

Enough of that crappy memory lane crap. How about some future stuff that includes good news!
I GOT A JOB INTERVIEW ON MONDAY! Yippee! Yes, world, I have a job interview. At a marketing agency. It's technically an internship, but a paid internship that can be full-time if they so choose. Problem is it's like a 30-minute drive from downtown, so I'll have to use the boyfriend's car. Luckily he can walk to the hospital to do his rotations this year. He told me it will all work out. Isn't it funny that when he says it, I can believe him? :)

And guess what's hi-larious. My grandparents are driving me to the interview. Yep. You heard right. MY grandparents are driving me to my first post-college interview. At age 24. God I'm so stellar.

So... I'm done? This is it? I had class tonight until 8 p.m., then had to come back and finish writing the paper which was due at midnight. Maybe it won't hit me tonight, and maybe not tomorrow, but life is certainly going to shift and I'm going to feel it. I've been in college for 5 years and it's been 6 since I graduates high school in 2007.

Whoa. That. Date. Looks. So. Old...

I took a year off after the first two years and so yeah, I've had the non-school life, but I think because the fact that I hadn't finished hung over my head for a solid 12 months or so, I never once felt a sense of peace or achievement. All my friends had been carrying on without me and I was busy looking for my lost sense of self-respect and, well, my brain.

But I did it. I'm done. I know there's Grad school possibilities and yada yada, but I've told myself to take a year off. I've been in school for three years straight, every summer, and full loads in the school year. And now, I'm only graduating....two? year later than I should be? (Fun/Sad Fact: I was the class of 2011 at Indiana University. Now I'm class of 2013 at IUPUI.) But you know what, I'll take it. no pity parties here today, no sirree. I WIN.

And that's all I want anyone to take away from this. Winning.

Things I want to talk more about in these posts soon:

• films
• books
• food
• summer
• fun
• why leafy trees make me so damn happy
• how my bike punched me in the face the other day
• tv shows
• bad habits
• places i want to go
• why laziness=no capitals right now
• that's a stupid topic
• pets
• moving
• why i don't have a car
• how i figured out my AC does work, when i thought it didn't all year
• luckily indiana has a shitty climate and i would have never needed it
• shoes
• writing
• my favorite places to go
• ireland trip may 25-june 4
• living with a guy for the first time
• how said guy and i have been saying "when we live together next year" up until last week. until we realized it's like "when we live together in two weeks" lolz
• why i hate cleaning
• dream homes
• dusty old antique apartments
• living downtown
• dating a medical student
• bad relationships
• going to bed early is nothing to be ashamed of

So, until next time!

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Thoughts, more procrastination, day-in-the-procrastinated-life, fandoms, and more.

Not sure what this is going to be about yet. All I know is things are changing and I'm a-liking.

That was cheesy. So in all seriousness, this is what is filling my brain just now:

• Doctor Who "Journey to the Center of the TARDIS" episode
• Bogey le boyfran is in town because he is taking patient physicals and histories for his second week of med school exams over at the downtown hospital (he normally lives in Bloomington, IN, one of the 8 or 9 IU Medical School campuses in Indiana. But I won't bore you with that). But having him around for Sunday and Monday is making our soon-to-be-living-together-situation feel like a reality.
• We realized earlier today that we've been saying "when we live together next year" but suddenly, it's here, and in fact "when we live together in 2 or 3 weeks..." WHOA.
• I'm wearing a dress with anchors on it. 
• Did I mention Doctor Who
• Animorphs books
• Too much Tumblr
• 1 exam, 1 giant research paper, and a fiction portfolio
• Target has everything I want and need
• My cat has too much hair. I can't touch her without getting a handful of gray fur
• Dr. Pepper is delightful
• Studying for my history of rock and roll exam
• Watching Supernatural is like studying for my rock and roll exam, right?
• My own stories
• I'm watching Lost Girl and really enjoying it
• YouTube steals hours of my day
• grilled cheeses
• Greek food
• Friends with Chron's disease
• Friends with psychologically abusive boyfriends
• Guy friends are the best friends sometimes
• Not having a car
• Seeing sunlight for the first time in what feels like a week or more
• Almost there

OH AND I WAS EMAILED ABOUT A JOB INTERVIEW!

So generally, this is how I function: 

     I get up, shove contacts in my eyes, judge my hair, and usually don't feed myself. My cat meows at me to be pet, but I have other stuff I need to do so I throw a pencil for her to play with, but she'd unimpressed.

     I usually sit in front of the computer to see what the weather is like, but depending on what day it is, I might have time to check Facebook... or Tumblr. And if I get on Tumblr, I'm never leaving, basically. It's the black hole of my time. I could sit on there for hours reblogging things and not making my blog personalized at all. YouTube too. Another black hole of time. Once in awhile I'll do something productive, but not until 1 or 2 hours has passed.

     When 1 or 2 hours has been sucked away from my life just like the machine they use on Westley in Princess Bride, I might finally get dressed and attempt to style my hair and put on makeup. Failing at the hair, I'll spend more time on makeup. Sometimes I stare at my clothes for 10 minutes wondering why I can't whip something cute out of my imagination. I usually end up wearing a Target V-neck tee and skinny jeans. All winter, I wore my brown combat boots. It's a good thing it's spring now though, because I'm out of socks. Flip-flops full-steam ahead!

     If I have homework to do, I generally don't get it done unless I leave the house. I am describing one of those days. My other days during this last semester consisted of anything from 8-13 hour days from Tuesday-Friday. Mondays I couldn't get work hours and had no classes. It was so weird. And yet so enjoyable. 

     It's finals week now, so I should be highlighting my research paper resources, possibly typing up some paragraphs, etc, etc. But this just sounded more fun. And I was overdue for a post anyways.

     I changed the blog title again. I'm hoping to keep it this. I wanted to invoke hope and forward-thinking and future and all that bullcrap. Successful? I hope!

     Today is different. Today, the Bogey will return from his exams about now-time and we might go running out in the spring air down Mass Ave., where trendy people drink coffee at Starbucks and buy trinkets at trendy little gift shops and Global Gifts and drink craft beer and eat good bar-food outside under umbrellas... And then we will shower and then we will eat ourselves. Being a med students, he hasn't has much time this year for television. Although he did finish Lost, much to his surprise and joy. I have been bugging this man to watch Doctor Who for a year now, since my rapid induction into full-formed Whovian last summer (I watched seasons 4-6 in one week. Contributing factors to this were I had no internet and my friend burned them on DVDs for me to watch at home. I watch season 3 in 2 weeks on public computers at school. It was a little mind-boggling. Oh, and ALL THE FEELS). (Had to say it.) (Because it's true.) 

     And what did he tell me the other day? That he started watching some of season one with Rose and Nine all on his own! We watched some more over the weekend too. I have to say, one of my favorite things is sharing books and TV shows that I love with others. I want them to love the things as much as I do--so it'd hard when they don't sometimes. But, oh it just feels so good when they do! I got Bogey to watch the first 5 seasons of Supernatural and the first season of Buffy and now he's on Doctor Who. I'll take it all.

     I'd say I belong to a lot of fandoms. What a strange concept--only because our generation is the first to do it. In the past, they existed, but weren't defined so factually as they are now. Or maybe they were just called fan clubs. Now there's so much, they have a fan-kingdom (lol). I grew up with Harry Potter. I was the same age as him for a few years. I even got the fifth book when I was in England when I was 14 going on 15. Then there was Supernatural, and then BBC took over the world--Sherlock, Doctor Who's revival, Skins, Misfits, on and on and on... Those are just the ones I watch. Tumblr and other sites have certainly facilitated fandom-making, but all of this is not what's strange to me. What's strange, and incredibly exciting and amazing, is the fact that it's COOL to like this stuff now. I used to be mercilessly teased for reading books, liking Harry Potter, still owning my Animorphs books (admittedly, my friends still tease me about that, but now I don't care!), watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Dragonball Z with my brothers and on and on... everything cool now, I was teased for back then--granted I didn't have the best of friends, but that's a vat of worms right there. I take to heart what John Green so famously stated once:

“…because nerds like us are allowed to be unironically enthusiastic about stuff… Nerds are allowed to love stuff, like jump-up-and-down-in-the-chair-can’t-control-yourself love it. Hank, when people call people nerds, mostly what they’re saying is ‘you like stuff.’ Which is just not a good insult at all. Like, ‘you are too enthusiastic about the miracle of human consciousness’.”

     I just wish I'd heard that when I was 14 and feeling like shit for liking what I liked. It's all in the past now of course, but I can't help wishing he'd been around when I was small because I needed to hear that. I suppose I've heard it now, and kids are hearing it now, and I'll be telling my kids about it--about how it's okay to LOVE things even if everyone else doesn't. I'm not talking he should start stealing other people's things or hotwiring cars or teasing the bullies back to make them feel like crap too, because he thinks it's fun, but you know what I mean.

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