Nice things in the past few days, a few things that have cut through the other stuff:
-Getting to work on Satuday with Alex and Kaytee.
-my new New York purse (fancy and coach. Well. Not really, but it looks like a coach.)
-taste of Cincinnati with Sara.
-Belian Waffles
-the curly haired boy selling the belgian waffles
-milk shakes, even if it made me want to die that night.
-talking to Jane on the phone.
-my new Rosie Thomas CD, is so so good.
-Working a long shift, with fun people. (Jen, Jenni, and Courtney--people I didn't used to like...sadly.)
-Funny stories that make you cringe and laugh really hard.
-Jimmy saving the day and putting up the sign.
-compliments on the fancy new list of hot teas that I made, it's pretty.
-Hugs from Earl, despite the creepy.
-Listening to good music, and drinking sinful sundae all night.
-Talking about my cough"future husband at verizon" and getting interrupted by some customers I had to help, speak of the devil.
-Aw, I want him to be ugly, so I can stop looking at him, but he isn't. Hahahaha. He has a really nice voice.
---(I need to find a guy LIKE him, but not him.)
-Then I got sick, and that's no fun.
But, Sunday and Monday were nice days.
I'm making a mix, so far, this is it:
1.Hoarding it for home-Mates of State
2.Engine Heart-Mirah
3.Wedding Day-Marla Hansen
4.Much Farther now to go-Rosie Thomas
5.Wild is the Wind-Cat Power
6.A Stone-Okkervil River
7.Emile's vietnam in the sky-Elvis Perkins
8.O, ohio-The National Lights
I'm thinking I want four more songs.
Who should I give it to? (no one, this is a mix for a pretty boy and I don't know any of those.)
So, I'll listen to it, in my car, and pretend like I have someone to give it to.
I have to go to a library "PAGE TEAM MEETING!!!"
Ew, note to self:don't sit beside Paris this time. Maybe I won't be the example for everything bad anymore.
Monday, May 26, 2008
Thursday, May 15, 2008
"I think that I'm in love with you." "Oh."
Dreams are very weird.
I do not think I enjoy the feeling that they leave me with sometimes, it's kind of achey; but odd, because, it isn't anything real, despite feeling so. Other times, they leave me very very happy. Like, a good feeling, but a feeling laced with a "Damn, that didn't really happen." feeling.
Sometimes, I have both of these feelings simutaneously, and I think my head is going to explode.
Damn, that didn't happen. Good.
I wish someone would be in love with me, and I'd be able to muster up more than an "oh."
And that it would be in real life, and I would be awake.
Though, enough about that, pretty lady, it's summertime.
I make a lot of lists, lately. I usually make lists when I'm upset with something, and I have been lately, so I guess it all makes perfect sense. But yes, a lot of lists. Lately.
I don't know where I'm going with this... precisely. But it's the truth.
And I've made a mental list in my head of the cellphone salesman in the mall; I'm not joking.
Ones that are nice, ones that are cute, ones that are cute but not nice, and ones that are nice and cute: those are the catagories.
No, I will not share it with you. Because it is lame, and I am lame, and there are still a few people that I do not know where to put, like Jimmy. We're like, friendly or something.
I hate the AT&T kiosk, though.
It's very confusing.
I need to find a new job. I need to register for classes. I need to schedule an ortho appointment. I need to put money in my savings' account. I need to run tomorrow. I need to reorganize my CD case. I need to ignore this dream. I need to try and actually accomplish things on my summer "to do" list this year. I need to get a haircut. I need to stop drinking so much caffiene so late. I need to buy things from the store, that I actually need not want. I need a reason to wear my new pants. I need to not have crushes on people I don't know anymore. I need to meet new people. I need to read my bible more. I need to get over Fred, whatever that means. I need to stop crying over nothing. I need to not stay up so late. I need to go to Barnes and Noble. I need to buy 'Get Happy' by Elvis Costello on CD. I need to clean my room. I need to find someone to watch Hitchcock movies with.
You thought I was kidding about the lists, didn't you? Don't doubt me.
Um. Okay. I have attention deficit disorder, apparently. (no, I knew it already.)
It's three am. That's not a good time to be awake with your thoughts.
I do not think I enjoy the feeling that they leave me with sometimes, it's kind of achey; but odd, because, it isn't anything real, despite feeling so. Other times, they leave me very very happy. Like, a good feeling, but a feeling laced with a "Damn, that didn't really happen." feeling.
Sometimes, I have both of these feelings simutaneously, and I think my head is going to explode.
Damn, that didn't happen. Good.
I wish someone would be in love with me, and I'd be able to muster up more than an "oh."
And that it would be in real life, and I would be awake.
Though, enough about that, pretty lady, it's summertime.
I make a lot of lists, lately. I usually make lists when I'm upset with something, and I have been lately, so I guess it all makes perfect sense. But yes, a lot of lists. Lately.
I don't know where I'm going with this... precisely. But it's the truth.
And I've made a mental list in my head of the cellphone salesman in the mall; I'm not joking.
Ones that are nice, ones that are cute, ones that are cute but not nice, and ones that are nice and cute: those are the catagories.
No, I will not share it with you. Because it is lame, and I am lame, and there are still a few people that I do not know where to put, like Jimmy. We're like, friendly or something.
I hate the AT&T kiosk, though.
It's very confusing.
I need to find a new job. I need to register for classes. I need to schedule an ortho appointment. I need to put money in my savings' account. I need to run tomorrow. I need to reorganize my CD case. I need to ignore this dream. I need to try and actually accomplish things on my summer "to do" list this year. I need to get a haircut. I need to stop drinking so much caffiene so late. I need to buy things from the store, that I actually need not want. I need a reason to wear my new pants. I need to not have crushes on people I don't know anymore. I need to meet new people. I need to read my bible more. I need to get over Fred, whatever that means. I need to stop crying over nothing. I need to not stay up so late. I need to go to Barnes and Noble. I need to buy 'Get Happy' by Elvis Costello on CD. I need to clean my room. I need to find someone to watch Hitchcock movies with.
You thought I was kidding about the lists, didn't you? Don't doubt me.
Um. Okay. I have attention deficit disorder, apparently. (no, I knew it already.)
It's three am. That's not a good time to be awake with your thoughts.
Saturday, May 10, 2008
Friday, May 2, 2008
"You have a cute hair...cut?"
It may or may not be Michael, and to be honest, I'm thinking it's not. I think Michael is the other guy, but that's just me... Haha.
---------------------------------
So. Fun times, crazy days:
I saw Okkervil River live last week, it kind of made my life a little bit better. Or, maybe a lot better. I don't know, either way, definitely improved.
The Turnbull ACs were the openers (well, there was a another opening band, but they sucked) and they were great. But they always are.
Um. I also saw a bunch of Tooth and Nail pop punkers at a big church the other day.
Not that it changes my life or anything, it really didn't. I've seen Hawk Nelson before, and even when I could tolerate (even enjoy, a little) bands of that persuasion, and I didn't like them then. I sure don't really give a crap about them now. Well, unless they're flirting with me... (storystorystory:)
So, I more or less was mostly asleep throughout the entire show, there were comfortable chairs, and I was tired, and I can sleep through almost anything. I'm kind of immune to loud pumping basslines anymore. All the bands sounded the same, though, HN tended to talk more during their set then the others. I think because headliners can do whatever they want.
Anyhow, I was just waiting for it to be finished, and it took forever to be finished. Like two hours. And I felt a little like a jerk, sitting down first of all, no one else really was, not even the parents...but you know, I wasn't an over-zealous parent trying to "fit in" with the younger "generation", I am part of the younger gen, and I like good music, but I digress. Not only was I sitting down during the show, whic is fairly unheard of at a "punk rawk (christian-pop-rock) tooth n' nail show", I was reading during set changes. Reading. And you know what reading material I had? I had Paste magazine. Paste magazine, it doesn't get much more indie-elitist than that, and actually maintain semi-decent writing. I was sitting there, reading why Ben Gibbard has no issue with being famous and why he wants to be Kerouac, and I thought 'dang, I wish I had my book with me...' But you know what book I had? The Portrait of an Artist as a Young Man by James Joyce. I should just've pasted (haha, punny) 'wanna be elitist snob' on my face. But, really digression, unnecessary.
After the show, we got in line for autographs. I was not actually intending to get one, I was just standing in line with them, hopding the spot for the girls (Hope and her friend Stephanie) to get autographs from the opening bands, but not lose their spots in the big line to Hawk Nelson.
Hope wanted them to sign...everything. Her shirt, her papers, another paper for a friend... Which wouldn't have been a big deal, had we not been threatened with not being able to "take up too much of their time" they were "very tired". It was barely ten at night, and all I can say is, if you can't roll with the big dogs, don't be a rock band. I don't care, just because you're Christians doean't mean you are uncapable of signing things and taking pictures with a bunch of preteens. It's part of the deal! But that's just my opinion. When it was our turn, I decided that, for the good of the team, I'd get an autograph too. So we could have an extra one, because they acted like they couldn't autograph everything that Hope wanted them too. And I laid it on thick.
Each of the guys got a good dose of guilt: "Thank you so much, I really appreciate you doing this, it means a lot that you're giving us some of your time to sign these, thanks really! This is so great! blah blah blah." I can turn on the charm that makes money when I need to. Mostly I was ignored only slightly less than the other people in line, I managed a "You're really welcome" or two, eye contact from one of the guys, and then I got to the end of the line.
I was wearing this ancient Relient K shirt I have, I mostly sleep in it because it's comfy, and wouldn't wear it out...um, ever. It's a pretty funny shirt, you know, the four guys that were RK in 2001 or something wearing funny costumes. But it's old. And I don't really listen to them anymore. But, anyhow, I was wearing that because my sister wanted me to "fit in", you know, with everyone else wearing their HN gear. So I get to the last guy in line and he glances up and sees my shirt, and hears my appreciation that's as faux as his 'hawk haircut, and says (excitedly) "Dude!! I had that shirt in high school!!" and I say...like a cool kid....
"Haha...me to..."
And then, I swear I must've been glowing because there is no other excuse for his adoring stare, he looks me in the eye and his voice totally changes. It turns soft and sweet, hints of flirtation all over the place:
"...Oh,....hiii...." his syllables all stretched out. I was confused.
"Hey. Uh." I am retarded mostly.
"I like your...uh...your um...hair.....cut? That was weird, I'm sorry. I mean, I like your hair? I guess that's what I mean.... I mean...I mean....You're...uh. Yourecute. Yeah....you're cute, and uh, thanks a lot for coming. Did you like the show? I hope so. I always hope that girls like you...I mean, everyone, but uh, cute girls? Yeah? Cute girls like the show...did you?"
OH. My. gosh. What?
"I loved it. Thanks, no that's not weird, I like your haircut too." Sometimes I wonder who I am. I wonder who is saying things like this. I couldn't do it again. Also, I am a liar, apparently. I didn't do anything remotely close to love it.
He smiles, he's digging on me, and my shirt and hair cut. I'm cute. awww.
Then the guy next to him nudges him, and smiles at me,
"Sorry to break this up, dude, but, uh, you're holding up the line a little bit."
Our eyecontact breaks and I see about 25 angry 13 year old girls in Hawk Nelson is my best friend t-shirts giving me the death stare; they knew my secret, they knew I was the one laying sudoku on my phone during the show, they knew I didn't deserve this.
My sister and her friend were already gone by the time I got out of the line.
"Who was the guy on the end?!" I asked, kind of frantically, a huge smile on my face.
"Whyyyyyy? You think he was cuuuuuute?" my sister is a very obnoxious person, very twelve.
"Uh, kinda ... but mostly he thought I WAS."
and that's why my night didn't totally suck, and was funny. And.
Um.
----------------------------
Michael? I hope so.
---------------------------------
So. Fun times, crazy days:
I saw Okkervil River live last week, it kind of made my life a little bit better. Or, maybe a lot better. I don't know, either way, definitely improved.
The Turnbull ACs were the openers (well, there was a another opening band, but they sucked) and they were great. But they always are.
Um. I also saw a bunch of Tooth and Nail pop punkers at a big church the other day.
Not that it changes my life or anything, it really didn't. I've seen Hawk Nelson before, and even when I could tolerate (even enjoy, a little) bands of that persuasion, and I didn't like them then. I sure don't really give a crap about them now. Well, unless they're flirting with me... (storystorystory:)
So, I more or less was mostly asleep throughout the entire show, there were comfortable chairs, and I was tired, and I can sleep through almost anything. I'm kind of immune to loud pumping basslines anymore. All the bands sounded the same, though, HN tended to talk more during their set then the others. I think because headliners can do whatever they want.
Anyhow, I was just waiting for it to be finished, and it took forever to be finished. Like two hours. And I felt a little like a jerk, sitting down first of all, no one else really was, not even the parents...but you know, I wasn't an over-zealous parent trying to "fit in" with the younger "generation", I am part of the younger gen, and I like good music, but I digress. Not only was I sitting down during the show, whic is fairly unheard of at a "punk rawk (christian-pop-rock) tooth n' nail show", I was reading during set changes. Reading. And you know what reading material I had? I had Paste magazine. Paste magazine, it doesn't get much more indie-elitist than that, and actually maintain semi-decent writing. I was sitting there, reading why Ben Gibbard has no issue with being famous and why he wants to be Kerouac, and I thought 'dang, I wish I had my book with me...' But you know what book I had? The Portrait of an Artist as a Young Man by James Joyce. I should just've pasted (haha, punny) 'wanna be elitist snob' on my face. But, really digression, unnecessary.
After the show, we got in line for autographs. I was not actually intending to get one, I was just standing in line with them, hopding the spot for the girls (Hope and her friend Stephanie) to get autographs from the opening bands, but not lose their spots in the big line to Hawk Nelson.
Hope wanted them to sign...everything. Her shirt, her papers, another paper for a friend... Which wouldn't have been a big deal, had we not been threatened with not being able to "take up too much of their time" they were "very tired". It was barely ten at night, and all I can say is, if you can't roll with the big dogs, don't be a rock band. I don't care, just because you're Christians doean't mean you are uncapable of signing things and taking pictures with a bunch of preteens. It's part of the deal! But that's just my opinion. When it was our turn, I decided that, for the good of the team, I'd get an autograph too. So we could have an extra one, because they acted like they couldn't autograph everything that Hope wanted them too. And I laid it on thick.
Each of the guys got a good dose of guilt: "Thank you so much, I really appreciate you doing this, it means a lot that you're giving us some of your time to sign these, thanks really! This is so great! blah blah blah." I can turn on the charm that makes money when I need to. Mostly I was ignored only slightly less than the other people in line, I managed a "You're really welcome" or two, eye contact from one of the guys, and then I got to the end of the line.
I was wearing this ancient Relient K shirt I have, I mostly sleep in it because it's comfy, and wouldn't wear it out...um, ever. It's a pretty funny shirt, you know, the four guys that were RK in 2001 or something wearing funny costumes. But it's old. And I don't really listen to them anymore. But, anyhow, I was wearing that because my sister wanted me to "fit in", you know, with everyone else wearing their HN gear. So I get to the last guy in line and he glances up and sees my shirt, and hears my appreciation that's as faux as his 'hawk haircut, and says (excitedly) "Dude!! I had that shirt in high school!!" and I say...like a cool kid....
"Haha...me to..."
And then, I swear I must've been glowing because there is no other excuse for his adoring stare, he looks me in the eye and his voice totally changes. It turns soft and sweet, hints of flirtation all over the place:
"...Oh,....hiii...." his syllables all stretched out. I was confused.
"Hey. Uh." I am retarded mostly.
"I like your...uh...your um...hair.....cut? That was weird, I'm sorry. I mean, I like your hair? I guess that's what I mean.... I mean...I mean....You're...uh. Yourecute. Yeah....you're cute, and uh, thanks a lot for coming. Did you like the show? I hope so. I always hope that girls like you...I mean, everyone, but uh, cute girls? Yeah? Cute girls like the show...did you?"
OH. My. gosh. What?
"I loved it. Thanks, no that's not weird, I like your haircut too." Sometimes I wonder who I am. I wonder who is saying things like this. I couldn't do it again. Also, I am a liar, apparently. I didn't do anything remotely close to love it.
He smiles, he's digging on me, and my shirt and hair cut. I'm cute. awww.
Then the guy next to him nudges him, and smiles at me,
"Sorry to break this up, dude, but, uh, you're holding up the line a little bit."
Our eyecontact breaks and I see about 25 angry 13 year old girls in Hawk Nelson is my best friend t-shirts giving me the death stare; they knew my secret, they knew I was the one laying sudoku on my phone during the show, they knew I didn't deserve this.
My sister and her friend were already gone by the time I got out of the line.
"Who was the guy on the end?!" I asked, kind of frantically, a huge smile on my face.
"Whyyyyyy? You think he was cuuuuuute?" my sister is a very obnoxious person, very twelve.
"Uh, kinda ... but mostly he thought I WAS."
and that's why my night didn't totally suck, and was funny. And.
Um.
----------------------------
Michael? I hope so.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)
