Thursday, February 25, 2010
To get on my good side...
You could bribe my happiness out with any one of the following items. (Who knows? You could get a tax write-off for it if you label it as "gift". Don't they give tax write-offs for gift-giving to the "Totally Fabulous"?):
1. This ring. Found out about Digby & Iona through a recent post off of What Claudia Wore (one of the many fashion blogs that I read on a daily basis). Immediately fell in love with their jewelry, especially since jewelry has become a recent fun fashion 'discovery' for me. It all started with FINALLY getting my ears pierced on my 24th birthday last year and ended with me constantly on the lookout for amazing necklaces, rings and bracelets to add to my budding collection. Yet another thing to break my bank over...but totally worth it. You can check out more of Digby & Iona's collections here.
2. These sandals. Because they look cool. And they are my absolute FAVORITE shade of gray. Did I mention that they look cool? BECAUSE THEY DO.
3. This jacket. I am in love with drapey fabrics. (Do NOT mistaken this for "billowy"!) Anything that cascades, criss-crosses or has any sort of sewn design that allows the material to sway when I move. I have been on the hunt for a jacket that had a criss-cross/drapey/odd shape to it since I was introduced to the black mini biker jacket from William Rast last season. It was a mistake to have allowed myself to let that fabric touch my skin. As soon as I had it on, I had to have it. Or at least something like it. This isn't quite "biker jacket" style, but this jacket definitely fits the bill of unusual and eye-catchy. And I'm all about eye-catchy.
EDITOR NOTE: Need Supply, Co. has become my current fashion obsession. Not only do I have it saved in my favorites, but I am half tempted to make it my home page for as long as their buyers keep bringing me delicious shoes and clothing on a regular basis.
1. This ring. Found out about Digby & Iona through a recent post off of What Claudia Wore (one of the many fashion blogs that I read on a daily basis). Immediately fell in love with their jewelry, especially since jewelry has become a recent fun fashion 'discovery' for me. It all started with FINALLY getting my ears pierced on my 24th birthday last year and ended with me constantly on the lookout for amazing necklaces, rings and bracelets to add to my budding collection. Yet another thing to break my bank over...but totally worth it. You can check out more of Digby & Iona's collections here.2. These sandals. Because they look cool. And they are my absolute FAVORITE shade of gray. Did I mention that they look cool? BECAUSE THEY DO.3. This jacket. I am in love with drapey fabrics. (Do NOT mistaken this for "billowy"!) Anything that cascades, criss-crosses or has any sort of sewn design that allows the material to sway when I move. I have been on the hunt for a jacket that had a criss-cross/drapey/odd shape to it since I was introduced to the black mini biker jacket from William Rast last season. It was a mistake to have allowed myself to let that fabric touch my skin. As soon as I had it on, I had to have it. Or at least something like it. This isn't quite "biker jacket" style, but this jacket definitely fits the bill of unusual and eye-catchy. And I'm all about eye-catchy.
EDITOR NOTE: Need Supply, Co. has become my current fashion obsession. Not only do I have it saved in my favorites, but I am half tempted to make it my home page for as long as their buyers keep bringing me delicious shoes and clothing on a regular basis.
Creativity Neurons Are Dying
I feel like the creativity within my brain has been going numb recently.
Okay, that might have been a slight use of hyperbole...Perhaps just the writer's mentality of my creativity is what I feel to be numb.
With all the endless Psychology, Health and Nutrition and Anatomy and Physiology chapters I have perused countless times in the past three to four weeks, I imagine the little community of writers that I had so pleasantly tucked inside the recesses of my brain to jot out my poems, essays and blog posts for me are now retreating in horror to the masses of factual nonsense I have overloaded my brain with.
And yes, don't be too envious that I had a miniature community of writers in my brain. Oddly enough, they are quite the cheap little labor unit, finding sustenance purely on a hearty diet of onomatopoeia, alliteration, SAT vocabulary and maybe an iambic pentameter thrown in now and again. (A superb, flawless iambic pentameter is like crack cocaine to them, apparently. I mean the really good stuff, as they say.)
I guess if I gave any more thought to the fact that it has been YEARS since I have allowed myself the luxury of rekindling my romance with poetry and prose, I might find myself a bit depressed. There are times when I am walking to class or through the grocery store when the observant writer in me kicks in - I catch a glimpse of an unusual character, a piece of conversation flowing through the air, a piece of jewelry on someone that might illicit an interesting back story - and my mind is suddenly reeling with ideas, phrases, descriptions, questions and answers... but just like that, as imminent as their arrival was to my brain is as quick as their demise. Like sparklers that did not ignite enough energy from the matchstick to carry the spark for its full lifetime and as quick as the combustion hits the air it flickers for a second before blowing away.
So the best I can say to myself is that I am trying... writing has always been my guilty pleasure, my solace and my comfort. My goal is to ease myself back into writing full time as I did once before and I am thinking that the best way for me is to just start blogging randomly about things of interest and the more I practice and 'compost', the more my writing will sustain and improve. =)
Here goes nothing...
Okay, that might have been a slight use of hyperbole...Perhaps just the writer's mentality of my creativity is what I feel to be numb.
With all the endless Psychology, Health and Nutrition and Anatomy and Physiology chapters I have perused countless times in the past three to four weeks, I imagine the little community of writers that I had so pleasantly tucked inside the recesses of my brain to jot out my poems, essays and blog posts for me are now retreating in horror to the masses of factual nonsense I have overloaded my brain with.
And yes, don't be too envious that I had a miniature community of writers in my brain. Oddly enough, they are quite the cheap little labor unit, finding sustenance purely on a hearty diet of onomatopoeia, alliteration, SAT vocabulary and maybe an iambic pentameter thrown in now and again. (A superb, flawless iambic pentameter is like crack cocaine to them, apparently. I mean the really good stuff, as they say.)
I guess if I gave any more thought to the fact that it has been YEARS since I have allowed myself the luxury of rekindling my romance with poetry and prose, I might find myself a bit depressed. There are times when I am walking to class or through the grocery store when the observant writer in me kicks in - I catch a glimpse of an unusual character, a piece of conversation flowing through the air, a piece of jewelry on someone that might illicit an interesting back story - and my mind is suddenly reeling with ideas, phrases, descriptions, questions and answers... but just like that, as imminent as their arrival was to my brain is as quick as their demise. Like sparklers that did not ignite enough energy from the matchstick to carry the spark for its full lifetime and as quick as the combustion hits the air it flickers for a second before blowing away.
So the best I can say to myself is that I am trying... writing has always been my guilty pleasure, my solace and my comfort. My goal is to ease myself back into writing full time as I did once before and I am thinking that the best way for me is to just start blogging randomly about things of interest and the more I practice and 'compost', the more my writing will sustain and improve. =)
Here goes nothing...
Friday, February 19, 2010
GAH!
Doesn't it seem like every time something goes wrong or becomes stressful, everything else seems to follow suit?
The beginning of this year felt like it was going to start out strong but since January all I have had is a lot of stress. A shit-ton of stress, to be more precise.
I realize that for me - every once in a while I need to surround myself with the specific people that just make everything seem minuscule and obsolete when even the worst tends to start crashing down around me.
But this week has been filled with just feeling as if certain individuals are avoiding me, not answering legitimate questions, and not holding up to the basic standard of honesty is best policy. Which really grinds my gears.
What's even more frustrating is that my two best friends are in their MIA statuses this week - one, I haven't seen in over a month and one that I will not have seen in over a month by the time she gets back from New Zealand (lucky bitch!).
And so, I sit here, with a very hungry stomach, with co-workers that seem to be taking ALL DAY to take their lunch break, and me left wondering what the hell is going on with everyone in my life this week?
The beginning of this year felt like it was going to start out strong but since January all I have had is a lot of stress. A shit-ton of stress, to be more precise.
I realize that for me - every once in a while I need to surround myself with the specific people that just make everything seem minuscule and obsolete when even the worst tends to start crashing down around me.
But this week has been filled with just feeling as if certain individuals are avoiding me, not answering legitimate questions, and not holding up to the basic standard of honesty is best policy. Which really grinds my gears.
What's even more frustrating is that my two best friends are in their MIA statuses this week - one, I haven't seen in over a month and one that I will not have seen in over a month by the time she gets back from New Zealand (lucky bitch!).
And so, I sit here, with a very hungry stomach, with co-workers that seem to be taking ALL DAY to take their lunch break, and me left wondering what the hell is going on with everyone in my life this week?
Saturday, February 13, 2010
"Death and All His Friends"
When I was younger, I had an overwhelming sense of fear over the prospect of death.
Possibly a bit too morbid, I am aware, for a 9 or 10 year old mentality, but I can grasp at a handful of distinct memories where I would wake up from terror nightmares of imagining what death would be like. At that age, I had no way of having any real depth perception as to what death entailed other than the image of what I saw in movies or TV (probably some episode of McGyver to blame for my fugitive imagination, no doubt).
I can vaguely recall the recurrence of these sleepless nights always beginning with me lying in bed, trying to be utterly still with my mind wandering off slowly. Once I could hear only the bugs outside my bedroom window chirping and buzzing softly, I found myself wondering if this is what death would be like. Don't ask me why, because for the life of me, I have no idea why I would have ever imagined something like this - but I do remember feeling a lot of fear. A lot of angst. I guess I had learned early on through my surgeries and physical therapy as a kid that the preparation for the experience seemed to make the experience itself less upsetting, less frightening. I wanted to know what death was like so I'd be ready.
So I'd lie in self-absorbed solitude for what seemed like forever (which means 3 minutes - tops) until I would suddenly realize that I hadn't been breathing that whole time and would scare the bejeebus out of myself once I gasped for air.
Long story short, none of my meager exploits into the minute life cycle of pre-mortem ever led to any acquiescence about death (with no surprise).
I recently realized that now, even as I delve deeper into my studies to what will eventually (and hopefully) become a career in medicine, I still have no idea what I think death is really like and whether to fear it or accept it for myself. But what I do know is that I fear death for everyone else on this planet. I fear the death of my parents (from either family), I fear the death of my sisters, my brothers, my neighbors, that guy that price checked my Mac & Cheese at the grocery store, the woman who held open the door for me today at REI...
because as I enter these trepid waters of medicine, I take on that responsibility. I am excited, anxious and cautious with a little bit of scared-shitless thrown in there. I know I can do it - deep within the recesses of my brain are all the necessary neurons to succeed. But I would be lying to all of you if I didn't admit that every now and again a little doubt is thrown my way. Maybe it's a bad grade here, a four-hour study session that ends with me killing more brain cells than enhancing...so I know those are the times I need to step back, take a deep breath, and realize that I can do whatever I put my mind to as long as my heart and perseverance is in on the same goal.
I promise to myself to keep writing in this thing - no matter how ominous it might seem. I believe that writing will always be my trusted compass. For whenever I fall off the broken path, once I sit down to write, I allow myself to bare my soul without ever really realizing it.
Possibly a bit too morbid, I am aware, for a 9 or 10 year old mentality, but I can grasp at a handful of distinct memories where I would wake up from terror nightmares of imagining what death would be like. At that age, I had no way of having any real depth perception as to what death entailed other than the image of what I saw in movies or TV (probably some episode of McGyver to blame for my fugitive imagination, no doubt).
I can vaguely recall the recurrence of these sleepless nights always beginning with me lying in bed, trying to be utterly still with my mind wandering off slowly. Once I could hear only the bugs outside my bedroom window chirping and buzzing softly, I found myself wondering if this is what death would be like. Don't ask me why, because for the life of me, I have no idea why I would have ever imagined something like this - but I do remember feeling a lot of fear. A lot of angst. I guess I had learned early on through my surgeries and physical therapy as a kid that the preparation for the experience seemed to make the experience itself less upsetting, less frightening. I wanted to know what death was like so I'd be ready.
So I'd lie in self-absorbed solitude for what seemed like forever (which means 3 minutes - tops) until I would suddenly realize that I hadn't been breathing that whole time and would scare the bejeebus out of myself once I gasped for air.
Long story short, none of my meager exploits into the minute life cycle of pre-mortem ever led to any acquiescence about death (with no surprise).
I recently realized that now, even as I delve deeper into my studies to what will eventually (and hopefully) become a career in medicine, I still have no idea what I think death is really like and whether to fear it or accept it for myself. But what I do know is that I fear death for everyone else on this planet. I fear the death of my parents (from either family), I fear the death of my sisters, my brothers, my neighbors, that guy that price checked my Mac & Cheese at the grocery store, the woman who held open the door for me today at REI...
because as I enter these trepid waters of medicine, I take on that responsibility. I am excited, anxious and cautious with a little bit of scared-shitless thrown in there. I know I can do it - deep within the recesses of my brain are all the necessary neurons to succeed. But I would be lying to all of you if I didn't admit that every now and again a little doubt is thrown my way. Maybe it's a bad grade here, a four-hour study session that ends with me killing more brain cells than enhancing...so I know those are the times I need to step back, take a deep breath, and realize that I can do whatever I put my mind to as long as my heart and perseverance is in on the same goal.
I promise to myself to keep writing in this thing - no matter how ominous it might seem. I believe that writing will always be my trusted compass. For whenever I fall off the broken path, once I sit down to write, I allow myself to bare my soul without ever really realizing it.
Monday, February 1, 2010
Preserving Hilarity
I have been blessed to have best friends that have very similar senses of humor to my own. (And believe me, sometimes my sense of humor is quite twisted.) I had gotten this idea not only from www.textsfromlastnight.com but from several other fave blogs of mine.
Because my friends and I share a common marrow component in our funny bones, I usually get the most random and yet hilarious responses via text from them. Some of them I try to hold onto for as long as I can and have even resorted to placing some in a separate folder on my phone, hoping to preserve their funniness for my enjoyment on days like this past Saturday... where the snow had to barricaded in my house!
So instead, I'd like to put a few of the funnier ones up here before they get discarded for more phone memory. I have a feeling that a lot of them (if not all of them) insist on some sort of retardedly prepubescent inside joke my friends and I have cultivated from our conversations, but nonetheless, here they are:
"Hehe. I'm a gateway drug ...breakin down barriers everywhere!"
"Too much cat sexay goin on"
"Maybe he's on sushi driveby service?"
"I just overheard a lady telling another lady how she wishes she could wear a onesie. OMG."
"So its you and the crackheads. Must be quite entertaining!"
"Yeah, man. He's like a jelly-filled powered donut!"
Because my friends and I share a common marrow component in our funny bones, I usually get the most random and yet hilarious responses via text from them. Some of them I try to hold onto for as long as I can and have even resorted to placing some in a separate folder on my phone, hoping to preserve their funniness for my enjoyment on days like this past Saturday... where the snow had to barricaded in my house!
So instead, I'd like to put a few of the funnier ones up here before they get discarded for more phone memory. I have a feeling that a lot of them (if not all of them) insist on some sort of retardedly prepubescent inside joke my friends and I have cultivated from our conversations, but nonetheless, here they are:
"Hehe. I'm a gateway drug ...breakin down barriers everywhere!"
"Too much cat sexay goin on"
"Maybe he's on sushi driveby service?"
"I just overheard a lady telling another lady how she wishes she could wear a onesie. OMG."
"So its you and the crackheads. Must be quite entertaining!"
"Yeah, man. He's like a jelly-filled powered donut!"
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)