Creating a Space

I can be kind of a wreck.

Okay, maybe wreck isn't the right word. Maybe I should say I can be kind of a hot mess. But recently I've made a huge effort to be more organized and, like, neat and stuff. So I overhauled my entire living space. I'm telling you... paint an accent wall apple green and suddenly you feel like you can deal with your life. Maybe that's just me... I don't know.

So I redid my space. I have a weird artist's quirk about personalizing things though. I always have to add my own little touches to things. My favorite thing is organized clutter. Feng-Shui is so not my thing. I have the innate desire to make things my own. Does anyone else do this? I honestly put a ton of effort into it. Here, I'll show you.

This is my desk. There's that little area near the edge that I've just graffiti'd the crap out of. Also please take note of my president placemat, my calculator with a dancing shark on it, my Jukebox the Ghost poster (signed!), and the J0-Bros calendar. I got those bookshelves at IKEA.

Now the personal touches. I put a picture of Geena Davis on the end of one of the shelves. What do you mean, why? Because she's AMAZING. Duh. The other has a picture of the Salt Lake Temple and a Wicked Witch of the West magnet. Like I said, weird personal touches.

This is my main bookshelf. Magazines and big books on the bottom shelf. Text books and references on the top shelf. Series on second to top. The rest is basically a free-for-all.

Zoom in on the top shelf and what do we find? Oh yes. A dinosaur scene. Again, what do you mean, why? Because dinosaurs are AWESOME. The next shelf down has lots of little ponies, and an eagle-shaped flask. Don't ask me to explain myself. It defies explanation.

So there you have it. Weird personal touches. The lamp by my bedside has a cutout of a male ballerina on it. My full length mirror has a bunch of Spiderman stickers on it. Nothing remains untouched.

I can only imagine what I'd do with a cubicle.

Pillows and Dreams

When I was a little girl, I asked my mom for a feather pillow. Not only did I want a soft downy pillow on which to sleep, I also wanted it to be encased in a luxurious satin pillowcase. I remember thinking to myself that this was a lofty expectation. At this point in my life I had a very specific plan. I was going to go to high school and ace every class, get a perfect score on the ACT & SAT's, work at a flower shop and be a cheerleader. Then I wanted to go to Harvard and be an actress, which for some reason didn't seem as lofty at the time as having a feather pillow with a satin pillowcase. It also seemed to make a lot of sense, which it obviously doesn't. Going to Harvard for Theatre makes about as much sense as going to AADA for Med School.

One day, I got home from school and there it was... my delightful new pillow. A goose feather down pillow covered in a shiny white satin pillowcase. I couldn't even wait to go to sleep that night... my dream had finally come true! I was on top of the world... I felt like now that I had gotten my pillow wish, any of my dreams could come true.

Fast-forward 12 years. I am sleeping on a flat, lumpy pillow stained yellow from someone's (presumably my dad's) oily head. I'm grudgingly continuing my education at the University of What the Hell Was I Thinking and my current plans? Marry rich and die young. Ok, while that would be nice (the marrying rich part), I'm actually planning on being a teacher. In which case I'll have to move to Connecticut because they pay their teachers WAY more than most states do. 10k more than Nebraska starting salary. So... not going to Harvard, not becoming an actress or the President, and sleeping on a lumpy old pillow with someone else's head stains.

I wonder if your pillow has anything to do with your dreams.

By the way, I changed my background on my blog to space, temporarily. I love space. Do you ever just lay in bed thinking about what a paradox the human race is? How we're so amazingly advanced, and yet, in the scheme of the whole universe we are so insignificant? How we are barely a particle in a vast, infinite universe?

What? Oh... yeah, me neither.....

Employment and Marriage, OR, Things that adults talk about.

There have been 3 things on my minds lately, and I'm going to pick through them one by one in front of you, right now.

1. I have a job.

This is great! I am a wage-earning adult! The problem is that I'm a pansy and I work outside. (At a baseball stadium.) The last couple of days I've actually had to wear a winter coat to prevent frostbite and hypothermia. Probably. I was just miserable because it was really cold. And everyone kept asking me if I was staying warm and I wanted to yell, "NO YOU MORON, I'M NOT KEEPING WARM, IT'S 38 FREAKING DEGREES AND I'VE BEEN OUT HERE FOR 4 HOURS ALREADY!" But I have to be all professional and crap and be like, "Doing my best!" (grin). It's surprisingly easy for me to be kind and courteous and professionally chipper at work though. It's like I have a customer service switch that has been off all my life and now suddenly you give me a walkie-talkie and some responsibilities and thwack it's flipped on. WEIRD. Also I'm pretty sure I saw my 7th grade social studies teacher tonight. The reason I think so is because he looks like Bill Gates only less attractive (gap-toothed and huge nose). I laughed because he didn't recognize me. Hopefully it's because I no longer resemble a preteen female Spock. But maybe it's because I was wearing sunglasses and smiling, neither of which he ever saw me do.

2. My biological clock doesn't know poop from applesauce apparently.

I want to get married. It's just hit me in the last 6 months. Actually "hit" isn't the right word. It's more like... it's crept up on me. It's like there's someone sitting behind me whisperingmaaaaaaariage and the whispering is getting progressively louder as time passes. First it was like you should think about the possibility of marriage in the future.. Then it was like look, your friends are getting married. They're so happy. Now it's like you want to get married, don't you? Pretty soon it will be like You should get married. And then... GET MARRIED! GET MARRIED NOW! TRICK SOMEONE INTO MARRYING YOU OR YOU ARE GOING TO DIE ALONE! ALOOOOOONE!!!!

So that's been fun. It's actually pretty stupid because I'm way too young to get married. I've also had some pretty messed up relationships in the past that have confused me about what love actually is and what I actually want from life. Allow me to demonstrate this with a graph:

As you can see, the Y axis represents Age in Years. As you can also see, I do things a lot earlier. I could have added events such as "first period" and "death" but I think this gives you the general idea. Also I completely ran out of room. Long story short: I'd like to get married and have babies now, please.

3. ...

I don't really remember what 3 was supposed to be. I'm exhausted. So I think I'm just going to end this post now. Because who's even going to read it? Nobody, that's who. Although I'd love to be proved wrong. Anyone? Anyone?

No?

Fine.

Out.

xx

Let Them Eat Cake

It's March Second! And March Second is Cake Day!

I baked a cake today, from scratch, with love and care and artful craftsmanship. Well... I don't know about artful, but it's at least sort of cute. Anyway, I spent probably 3 hours of my life on this cake, whipping egg whites and creaming butter, and all that jazz. Stupidly, I realized that I really had nobody to share the cake with after it was done, sitting frosted and also undesired on my counter. A whole cake. Which is actually exactly what you want to eat when you realize you don't really have friends... a whole cake.

Of course I have friends. But I'm at that transitional phase in my life where I am starting to lose touch and common ground with the friends I once had (not that I really had that many to begin with) and am trying to make new ones. Seems like every day I notice a new person that has deleted me from Facebook. I know it's petty but it kind of hurts my feelings. The rumor mill, who shall remain nameless, might have had a little something to do with it, and that's fine because they obviously weren't my friends anyway if they believe him over me. But sometimes they're people who I just want to be like "Really? YOU deleted ME?!" Anyway, I'm getting off topic.

What's my topic again? Oh, right, friends and cake. So I wanted to share my cake with someone... but I couldn't really think of anyone to share it with. Because everyone has gone off to college and I... well... haven't gone off. My life seems to be following a different path of enlightenment than theirs so to speak. I look at my mom and wonder how she found her best friends now. The first one she met in Lamaze class when she was 18 (score one for teen pregnancy). So that's out. The other one she met at work, but it turns out they knew each other from middle school. Since I still talk to exactly 0 friends I had in middle school on a regular basis, and my job is... well we'll see when we get there. But anyway... I don't know.

I'm making friends at church left and right, which is awesome. I even got asked on a date! (it's not a REAL date, mind you, but still, this is big for me.) That's happened all of like... oh I don't know... 2 other times in my entire life. Maybe. I'm not even sure. I can certainly count the number of times I've had feelings for someone on one hand (with some fingers cut off). Anyway, I'm just hoping that some of these friendships will grow to be deep and lasting... and that I will have lots of people to share cake with next year.

Biting Your Fingers Isn't Sexy.

At least... not from what I can tell. I always see women doing it and I assume that they assume that they look sexy. But unless you're a supermodel who literally bleeds sex appeal, it's pretty hard to pull off. Believe me, I tried it:

Not Sexy. A little deranged if anything.

Um... maybe slightly more sexy than before. But not exceedingly so.

I don't know... is it sexy?

Let's put on glasses... does that... Oh. Nope. Not sexy.

How about the moronic Katy Perry baby face? Sexy? Nope.

WHAT IS THIS?!

In conclusion: I bite my thumb at finger-biting.

I can't make it sexy. Props to you if you can. Although you probably can't; you just think you can. I guess I'll never understand it. I guess I should remove "Posing For Playboy" from my bucket list. Just kidding.

It's too late for that.

Back up off my frostbite.

I do this weird thing where I'm possessive of bad weather. When the weather is bad, I'm proud of it. I know it's completely asinine, but it's true. I really take pride in how sucky the weather in Nebraska is. The windchill is intense, the humidity blows, and the thunderstorms kill people, and even though I hate being here to witness it, I love telling people about it who don't live here.

I love talking to my friends and relatives in places with more stable climates.

"How's the weather there?"

"Oh, it's absolutely beautiful! How about there?"

"Third tornado warning this week! Golf ball-sized hail, even!"

or

"It's 75 degrees here today!"

"Wow, because it's -3 here with a windchill of -20."

I'm always expecting the response to be, "You win!"

Do other people feel this way or is it just me?