Day 78: Job Experience

Today I noticed I wasn't nervous to go in for tutoring.

Day 73: LOR

L.etters O.f R.ecommendation

The future doesn't seem that bleak when you start doing research.

Day 70: A Continuation: D'orsay pumps

[I realized I published the previous post at 12:34am. How awesome.]

I am currently witnessing possibly the best episode of The Tonight Show with Conan O'Brien. A $1.5 million comedy skit? I can't wait to see what the rest of the week has in store... <3

So this is the second or fourth day of gloomy, rainy weather. It was really promising for screwing up everyone's plans; it began to snow around 3. But it only stayed for an hour or so and it started to sprinkle again.

A little grey bird with an aureolin splotched breast hopped past my window, and I felt sorry for him. He looked lost & forlorn; desperately looking for shelter.

That was the first time I wanted to "rescue" an animal.

He flew off into the gloom, but I'm sure he's alright. I don't think he was alone.

---------

So, I really despise admitting that I have girly tendencies. Yes, I am a girl, but I don't like acting like one. I hate admitting that I love clothes & shoes. Not only is this love "girly", but it also means I'd be spending money on fashionable material things, which shouldn't be valued above things I need, like food and... less... fashionable... dull... clothing. /:

Today, I allowed myself to admit my love for shoes and got curious about the different types. There's this certain style I love and I realized I didn't know what type it was! I have always liked them, even before Bridget von Hammersmark wore them in Inglourious Basterds.

She's pretty, so here's a picture.


She left one of her sweet shoes at the bar... like this:


In my opinion, it's the sexiest style of pump a woman could possibly wear -- the d'orsay style pump. [Montana Rader describes the reasoning in their blogspot.] The d'orsay is the style where "the vamp and sides of the pump are cut away to reveal the décolleté of the instep." (Montana Rader)

If you're curious about other shoe styles and their names, here is an A-Z of Women's Shoe Styles by Gill Hart.

The most tragic thing for me is that the d'orsay can never look amazing on me because I have wide, flat feet. I can only dream.
But at least I know what they're called now.

Day 70: About this... Internet-thing

[I just realized I've been dating these blogs semi-incorrectly.
I end up writing about days so late in the night that "Day 70" is probably about Day 69, and "Day 69"...

/shrug. Oops.]

My mind was completely blown away; I didn't realize the greatness of the internet and the images it holds until today. Isn't that silly? 2010. Where the fuck have I been?

I recently signed up for a Flickr account (if I decide to touch that digital camera Dad gave me). After today's GIS-ing "cigarette girl polaroid", I now have a tumblr account too -- as if I led such an interesting life to begin with.

I didn't realize the amount of blogs and junk floating around. It boggles my mind and makes me feel old. [This gat-dang new fangled blog-ing thing! /waves cane around]

Whenever I discover a blog site, I always want to sign up, so I can have my own place to design... make my "own" but in reality, maybe I'm just an attention whore and have no reason to be blogging except for discussing my life, which as I've said: is not at all that interesting to begin with.

It's like I'm trying to design my own room on the Internet -- one that represents me!

Reading/skimming through blogs makes me both happy & depressed. Happy because most images I come across are ones I like. [Why the hell would I read a blog that I don't like?] Photos in these blogs are made up of simple landscapes, still life photography, rotary phones, skinny models with cigarettes, hipster clothing, small apartments, mattresses, bright colors, floral patterns, messy hair, the smell of musky sweat whiskey-breath, smooth legs and firm breasts, typewriters & ink, polaroids, pumps, a cup of--oh fuck, I could go on forever...

At the same time, I get depressed knowing:


1. I'll never be a skinny white model -- I could never get myself to live that sort of life.


2. The people in the regular pretty photos are my age or younger and they blog about a wilder life than I... and they are happy with it. ["Wilder": they live on their own, with their own decisions; they are not rich, but life is wonderful.]


3. Even though I'll never be a skinny white model, I'm not pretty enough for "artsy" photos of myself.


4. Photography is not something I am skilled at.


5. I am not surrounded by anything quirky to be photographed. Anything quirky must be driven to and costs money; money that I don't have.

Photos from the internet... stories of other peoples' lives...
You are the bittersweet amelioration to my life.


I want to stand on rooftops
disheveled hair
cigarette between my fingers

Just how hungry would I be then?

Day 69: The petty decisions

I make decisions frequently.

I always announce them to myself as if they were some sort of life-changing decision, but I don't ever get to actually publish or write them anywhere,
and they are never that important anyway. Eventually, they become forgotten.

Today, I have decided to actually post a few. It mostly has to do with more worldly possessions. In a way, this is life-changing for me because... well, all I really want to do is change my wardrobe completely so I look less like a fourteen year old girl, and more like the adult I really am.

Most people say it good that I look young for my age.
Sure, I'll appreciate it when I'm OLDER, but right now, I feel like it's a curse.

I have recently decided that I must purchase a pair of boots (a shade of grey or black).

I have also decided a pair of booties would suit me fine. If you're unfamiliar with booties, this is what I have in mind:


The "pixie" version is also nice:



These are rather cute as well...


Another decision... would be to at least go window shopping once a week. I enjoy shopping, but I never think to do it, nor do I have friends who really go shopping (as... they... are all... MALE. Grr...). I figure if I go window shopping, I'll at least have an idea of what to purchase. In addition, I will buy more clothes to replace what I have now. Some of the things in my closet have been around since high school.

I have also decided that I will exercise everyday in order to become absolutely hot.
I am also limited to 4 Oreos for Sugars.
/cry

Day 64

The things I love dearly turn me a shade of green because I cannot have them.

I also suddenly fear what I would do if I acquire the things I love dearly.
Would I still love them then?


I'd like to think I was meant to be a starving artist.
Or am I just romanticising?

Day 60: Another regular [sick] day.

Day 57 - 59: Dentist; My favorite place; Despair

I have no cavities.

Mom, dad, and I went to Vasquez Rocks park today. ... Assuming that there's more than one since there was a sign that said: "Vasquez Rocks Park 2". It was the perfect day to go because it wasn't hot and not too cold. After expending some energy hopping around on rocks, the weather was perfect. I haven't developed my film yet, but I keeping my fingers crossed for some semi-good shots, and some funny oddly out-of-focus ones.

I am also hoping that I will get to go there again to take a look at some interesting places we didn’t get to; a plateau-ish area with a tree in the middle and a cave-ish place. I hope the tree area is more magical in real life than my mind makes it.

And apparently, at&t’s or our internet… something is down. The wireless stopped working (so I’ve started writing this in Word) and my cell phone can’t send pictures. Very odd. Mike probably thinks Slenderman got me.

That’s right. Slenderman.

I can’t believe some of these silly creepy stories kept me up at night. Actually, none of them really did… it was more like Mike telling me about Slenderman and showing me semi-creepy pictures. Sometimes, I’m not afraid, but then… I get the heebie jeebies. I got 3 hours of sleep last night because the coats on my wall made funny dark shapes. ):

So I have been reading those creepy stories instead of a book. I tried to read Gregory Macguire’s Son of a Witch, and it’s just NOT happening. If you’re looking for a book that has a whole lot of NOTHIN’ happening in it… that is your book. It’s so frustrating. I’ll keep on reading it… really. I’m awaiting some sort of epic epiphany-moment or something. Or “Blah blah was Blah Blah all along!” For now… it seems pretty anticlimactic. -__-

Today, I got very depressed.
When Sam travels the country, what will happen to me?
I’ve been very tempted to get suggestive.
Life always takes away my lovers. Again, I’m feeling like no one will ever be able to love me. Everyone’s moving except for me, so I always get left behind.

Day 56: I'm sick; Vicodin; Innocence

It's probably been more than a year since I've been sick. I'm not even seriously ill, I'm just coughing and it's annoying. Still. A situation such as this makes me envision a day where I have a job with shitty benefits and I have no insurance. Ay, me. How unfortunate things are. /:

I applied for a clerical job and forgot to add in that I passed the CBEST and CSET. My mom swears that is the reason why I didn't get hired for that Federal job.

Of course.

So I'm sick. I wasn't able to meet up with my old piano teacher. But at least I have a student in mind. Hopefully she'll respond.

I've been getting stressed out about tutoring lately; I feel like I haven't been doing my part well enough. I have been trying to think of some activities for her to do.

This relationship-thing-whatever-it-is is interesting. I hope that I can visit him before his lease is up and he completely disappears into the sunset. How depressing.

Maybe it will be for the best.

"How are you different? Imagine you are in a room with 50 random strangers. List ten ways that you are PROBABLY different from every stranger in that room, then write a piece (poetry or paragraph) that celebrates those differences."

Fifty random strangers? There's probably more that we have in common than we think.
1. They probably aren't as tall as me.
2. They probably don't have a pathetic blog like this.
3. They probably don't play the flute as well as I.
4. They are probably more skilled at math than I.
5. They probably don't speak the same languages I do.
6. They probably can't type as quick as I can.
7. They probably aren't sick today.
8. They are probably unemployed.
9. They probably don't read A Softer World.
10. They probably hate mochi ice cream.

In celebration of me, I would like to say that enjoy imagining myself to be cooler than I really am in real life. Now if only I could get myself to be that cool person.

Them: I wonder how you make Vicodin.
Us: It is made out of dreams
Us: and sleeping .... ummmmm...
Us: sleeping cute things.
Them: Somewhere in a third world country
Them: there's a factory
Them: taking the dreams of the innocent
Us: and captures clouds.
Us: Yeah
Us: can't have the dreams of the... whatever... non-innocent in there
Us: I'm sure there's a high concentration of like... newborns' dreams.
Us: All they dream about is sunshine and daisies.
Us: And maybe milk.

Very innocent.

Day 55: Fuck "may".

I just busted out my old piano books. I would like the world to know that this makes me feel awesome. I have also come to the realization that I probably enjoyed the piano and my lessons because the books looked so old fashioned. I shall take pictures of them soon and compare. The modern covers look hideous; I can't imagine how horrid the new illustrations look.

Anyway, I'm trying to gain confidence -- real, true confidence in doing piano lessons. I may call on my old piano teacher just as I have been meaning to do for several months now. Actually, I will call my piano teacher.

I wonder why I don't have the: "FUCK IT, LET'S DO THIS!" mentality towards life. Instead, I have it for relationships. Hmm.

Oh well, lucky me. I found a good guy while I was seemingly "throwing everything away".

Reserved for Day 51 (if I ever get around to it)