Let this past week be known as the Week of Comments! Well, it actually wasn't a week-long thing, just the 19th to today. But it was so nice! I loved the comments on the most recent one after this. And there were even comments from someone I didn't know on Skip The Review! "I love the attitude. You gave me such a vibe!" Thanks, moshes! It was very unprecedented but pleasant. Morale? At an all time high!
So today I used a tablet, and it actually went better than expected. I was not really keen on giving it a go, because the first time I used one it went rather poorly and I was very discouraged. But I drew a halfway decent one today, and now I'm going to get one! A tablet, that is. I'm going to use the money from my cancelled Italian class to go and get it. The one Tanis has is a Bamboo Fun, and I liked it a lot. Maybe I'll start drawing more! I hope I get better with the stupid thing though.
Honestly? Not much to say today. I am so starving right now my stomach actually hurts, and I'm tired, tired, tired. BUT my kitchen is painted and the floor is done. Now I just have to get started on my stupid room...
Saturday, January 22, 2011
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
I My Me Mine
If someone comes up to me and tells me that they are Christian/Catholic/Buddhist/Sikh/Hindu/Etc, I will say "Cool story bro". I someone comes up to me, and says they are Christian/Catholic/Buddhist/Sikh/Hindu/Etc, and ask what I am, I will tell them that I am an atheist. If they proceed to berate me for being what I am, and thinking what I think, and asking me how I could believe such a thing, I WILL get all up in their face about it. Because this has happened to me too many times and I am fucking tired of it.
I'm sorry, when you come to my door, try to give me something in the street, strike up a conversation at my till, and tell me what you believe of the world, that is fucking A-okay. I pretty much don't care who you worship. But when you tell me that I'M wrong? I will not flinch from saying what is on my mind. You want to ask my why I am godless? Fine, I will ask you why YOU are devout, and before you can say anything, I will answer for you. Typically, you are what your parents are.
When you tell me I am going to Hell, I will tell you that I don't believe in Hell. When you question whether or not I am educated, if I've ever even picked up a Bible, I will say, yes, I have, because I am not against learning the faiths of others. When you ask me what meaning life has without God, I will say just as much meaning as if with, possibly even more. When you question me about death, about life without the possibility of Heaven, I will tell you that Heaven doesn't change anything; We're still all going to be afraid to die.
I will admit that I am not perfect. When I see televangelists on late night TV, people in the streets holding signs that say "Free Prayer" (isn't prayer free anyway?), when I hear about how Jesus Christ "saved my life", my lip does curl. I do sneer. I make cynical remarks. We wouldn't be human if we didn't believe that we were truly right and everyone else was wrong.
The thing I mostly don't like about organized religion is that I don't like being dependent on anybody but myself. If I need a Jesus or an Allah or a Jehovah to make me find beauty and happiness and love in life, then that's... just not the way I operate. I don't want to be told how to act, what to think. I want to be allowed to believe in nothing and have that be okay.
Of course, I am allowed to believe in nothing, but somehow, I always end up in the role of "asshole". Like, if we ran through that whole scenario waaay at the top of this post, if I asked what someone else believed, they told me that they believed in a god, and I questioned them, berated them, made fun of them, told them that God wasn't real, I would automatically be Queen Douchebag. But when someone does the EXACT same thing to me, it's okay. Atheists have feelings too, you guys.
I love though, how every person I tell tries to get me to falter, to not be able to explain my thoughts. They sit there with this self-satisfied look on their face, this weird kind of pity, like you'd give to a small child who told you they believed in Unicorns, like I just don't know better. I know what they think. I know they think that I'm just believing in what's "in", what the cool kids think. I know they think that maybe, just maybe, if someone took me to a house of God and showed me what's what that I would come crawling to their side, the "right" side. Not everyone, of course. For all my loathing, the world is, after all, full of lovely people.
I kind of feel sorry for the first person to sneer and question what my beliefs are, because they are going to get the full whammy of my "beliefs". I will not back down. I will tell them that I believe in people. That I believe in love. That I believe in sleeping in, and kisses, and Vietnamese food. I will say that I believe in solitude, and wild dreams, and new backyards with pear trees. I believe in books, in music, in blogs, in breakfast, in tattoos, in presents, in pretty dresses, in swaying trees, in childhood memories, in 25 cent books of poetry, in Xbox's, in holding hands, in surprise visits, in two cats, in one beautiful red dog, in blood and in boyfriends. In life. In myself.
PS. I should also note that three days ago was the 1 year anniversary of this blog! I was too tired that day to write a teary little entry about it, and just plum forgot about it later. 1 year of words! 1 year of crazy and jokes and hate! 1 whole year me sitting in front of a computer screen, trying to make a connection.
I'm sorry, when you come to my door, try to give me something in the street, strike up a conversation at my till, and tell me what you believe of the world, that is fucking A-okay. I pretty much don't care who you worship. But when you tell me that I'M wrong? I will not flinch from saying what is on my mind. You want to ask my why I am godless? Fine, I will ask you why YOU are devout, and before you can say anything, I will answer for you. Typically, you are what your parents are.
When you tell me I am going to Hell, I will tell you that I don't believe in Hell. When you question whether or not I am educated, if I've ever even picked up a Bible, I will say, yes, I have, because I am not against learning the faiths of others. When you ask me what meaning life has without God, I will say just as much meaning as if with, possibly even more. When you question me about death, about life without the possibility of Heaven, I will tell you that Heaven doesn't change anything; We're still all going to be afraid to die.
I will admit that I am not perfect. When I see televangelists on late night TV, people in the streets holding signs that say "Free Prayer" (isn't prayer free anyway?), when I hear about how Jesus Christ "saved my life", my lip does curl. I do sneer. I make cynical remarks. We wouldn't be human if we didn't believe that we were truly right and everyone else was wrong.
The thing I mostly don't like about organized religion is that I don't like being dependent on anybody but myself. If I need a Jesus or an Allah or a Jehovah to make me find beauty and happiness and love in life, then that's... just not the way I operate. I don't want to be told how to act, what to think. I want to be allowed to believe in nothing and have that be okay.
Of course, I am allowed to believe in nothing, but somehow, I always end up in the role of "asshole". Like, if we ran through that whole scenario waaay at the top of this post, if I asked what someone else believed, they told me that they believed in a god, and I questioned them, berated them, made fun of them, told them that God wasn't real, I would automatically be Queen Douchebag. But when someone does the EXACT same thing to me, it's okay. Atheists have feelings too, you guys.
I love though, how every person I tell tries to get me to falter, to not be able to explain my thoughts. They sit there with this self-satisfied look on their face, this weird kind of pity, like you'd give to a small child who told you they believed in Unicorns, like I just don't know better. I know what they think. I know they think that I'm just believing in what's "in", what the cool kids think. I know they think that maybe, just maybe, if someone took me to a house of God and showed me what's what that I would come crawling to their side, the "right" side. Not everyone, of course. For all my loathing, the world is, after all, full of lovely people.
I kind of feel sorry for the first person to sneer and question what my beliefs are, because they are going to get the full whammy of my "beliefs". I will not back down. I will tell them that I believe in people. That I believe in love. That I believe in sleeping in, and kisses, and Vietnamese food. I will say that I believe in solitude, and wild dreams, and new backyards with pear trees. I believe in books, in music, in blogs, in breakfast, in tattoos, in presents, in pretty dresses, in swaying trees, in childhood memories, in 25 cent books of poetry, in Xbox's, in holding hands, in surprise visits, in two cats, in one beautiful red dog, in blood and in boyfriends. In life. In myself.
PS. I should also note that three days ago was the 1 year anniversary of this blog! I was too tired that day to write a teary little entry about it, and just plum forgot about it later. 1 year of words! 1 year of crazy and jokes and hate! 1 whole year me sitting in front of a computer screen, trying to make a connection.
Friday, January 14, 2011
Get Me Out Of This Cavern Or I'll Cave In
I like being alone, I truly do, but maybe I shouldn't be allowed to be alone. It sends my mind to dark places, and at the end of the day I'm stuck in this restless state of semi-despair.
Woke up late today, around 1:30. It was glorious. I love sleeping in. But it always gives me this sense of... uselessness. I wasted the whole day once again. To make matters worse, I played Fallout for the next 2 hours. That really skews your sense of time. Before you know it, the sun's going down.
I knew I had to go meet Rachel at her work downtown, so I left at 4:45, went to the bank to collect the money I owed her and made it down there by 6 pm. I'm never out during the day anymore. I love winter, but I hate how dark it gets all the time. Max thinks I've got some Vitamin D deficiency going on. So anyway, I went to Rachel's work and met all her nice friends, but feel like kicking myself because I'm such a shy dumbass. I just can't talk to people. I try, and then I get all soft-voiced and timid, and I get anxious and sweat and stutter. It's pathetic.
All the way home, I was just... blah. Even stopping in at work and saying hello to my friends didn't help. I'm just worried and anxious and melancholy all the time, and I hate it. To make matters worse, I wore my high heels, which used to be okay but now they hurt so badly.
I think I'm just upset because my Italian class got canceled. Oh, by the way, my Italian class got canceled. I got a phone call yesterday informing me that it was canceled because only two other people signed up for it. It'll be nice that I'll get the nearly $200 back from that, but now I don't know what I'm going to do for the next 4 months.
This is just all coming back to my frustration of not knowing what to do with my life. How am I supposed to pick a school, pick a program, make plans for the future if I don't know what the FUCK I'm doing. I know what I like: writing and drawing. That's cute, but not helpful. I want to make comics (I think?) but what am I supposed to DO about that?
Why can't I just be good at school? I was kind of toying with the idea of going to SFU, and... Oh, that's a dumb idea. They'll never let me into university. I'm going to need at least a 2.00 GPA (60%) and that is most certainly something I do not have. I'm also going to need to complete 24 units of transferable postsecondary course work. Whatever that is, I do not have it. I just wanted to go to university to get some kind of English degree, but that's about as useful as getting an Art degree, so I may as well go for the one that's easier to get (Art).
Fun fact! When I get anxious or upset, I scratch myself all over, really hard, until I get these little read lines on my skin. Once, when I was 14 or 15, I methodically scratched my hand in the same place until it but into my skin and I started bleeding. I didn't even stop then. My nail kept running through the thin line of blood. It got infected shortly after, and then scarred, and I hoped that would serve as a reminder to never do such things again. Well, I really want to do it again right now. I'm resorting to pinching my hands all over.
I scare myself sometimes, you know?I don't want to use the 'D' word here, but I think it's more than likely that that's what's fucking with me. It has been for a long, long time. I should go talk to someone about it, I know, but what are they going to say? "Here, take some pills." That is not the solution, just a suppressant. If I were to go off of said pills, the problem would come right back. If I'm going to get over this stupid, stupid shit, I'm going to do it without any form of medication. I just need to find something that makes me happy. Hm...
I'm just getting seriously tired of being such a fuck up. Maybe I'll feel better if I make a stir-fry...
EDIT: Big surprise, dinner is a failure too.
Woke up late today, around 1:30. It was glorious. I love sleeping in. But it always gives me this sense of... uselessness. I wasted the whole day once again. To make matters worse, I played Fallout for the next 2 hours. That really skews your sense of time. Before you know it, the sun's going down.
I knew I had to go meet Rachel at her work downtown, so I left at 4:45, went to the bank to collect the money I owed her and made it down there by 6 pm. I'm never out during the day anymore. I love winter, but I hate how dark it gets all the time. Max thinks I've got some Vitamin D deficiency going on. So anyway, I went to Rachel's work and met all her nice friends, but feel like kicking myself because I'm such a shy dumbass. I just can't talk to people. I try, and then I get all soft-voiced and timid, and I get anxious and sweat and stutter. It's pathetic.
All the way home, I was just... blah. Even stopping in at work and saying hello to my friends didn't help. I'm just worried and anxious and melancholy all the time, and I hate it. To make matters worse, I wore my high heels, which used to be okay but now they hurt so badly.
I think I'm just upset because my Italian class got canceled. Oh, by the way, my Italian class got canceled. I got a phone call yesterday informing me that it was canceled because only two other people signed up for it. It'll be nice that I'll get the nearly $200 back from that, but now I don't know what I'm going to do for the next 4 months.
This is just all coming back to my frustration of not knowing what to do with my life. How am I supposed to pick a school, pick a program, make plans for the future if I don't know what the FUCK I'm doing. I know what I like: writing and drawing. That's cute, but not helpful. I want to make comics (I think?) but what am I supposed to DO about that?
Why can't I just be good at school? I was kind of toying with the idea of going to SFU, and... Oh, that's a dumb idea. They'll never let me into university. I'm going to need at least a 2.00 GPA (60%) and that is most certainly something I do not have. I'm also going to need to complete 24 units of transferable postsecondary course work. Whatever that is, I do not have it. I just wanted to go to university to get some kind of English degree, but that's about as useful as getting an Art degree, so I may as well go for the one that's easier to get (Art).
Fun fact! When I get anxious or upset, I scratch myself all over, really hard, until I get these little read lines on my skin. Once, when I was 14 or 15, I methodically scratched my hand in the same place until it but into my skin and I started bleeding. I didn't even stop then. My nail kept running through the thin line of blood. It got infected shortly after, and then scarred, and I hoped that would serve as a reminder to never do such things again. Well, I really want to do it again right now. I'm resorting to pinching my hands all over.
I scare myself sometimes, you know?I don't want to use the 'D' word here, but I think it's more than likely that that's what's fucking with me. It has been for a long, long time. I should go talk to someone about it, I know, but what are they going to say? "Here, take some pills." That is not the solution, just a suppressant. If I were to go off of said pills, the problem would come right back. If I'm going to get over this stupid, stupid shit, I'm going to do it without any form of medication. I just need to find something that makes me happy. Hm...
I'm just getting seriously tired of being such a fuck up. Maybe I'll feel better if I make a stir-fry...
EDIT: Big surprise, dinner is a failure too.
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
Fey Folk
A book that was read much more than once in my teenage years is called Tithe, by Holly Black. Now, you can tut-tut all you like, but I always have been and always will be enchanted with things fairy related. I think the earliest ones I was exposed to were in the books by Cicely Mary Barker. They were these sweet little books, called things like Flower Fairies of the Spring. There were pictures of each flower 
with it's accompanying fairy, and a poem to go with it. At one point we had the books for all of the seasons. Our favourite game was to look through and find which one we and people we knew looked like. My mum always said I looked like the Rose Fairy, and it's true, that picture on the left is pretty much what I looked like, sans rose petal dress. These days I'd say I look a lot more like the Wind Flower Fairy.
Girl Guides also had fairies on the brain. I get the feeling that that isn't as much of the focus now, but when I joined brownies as a 7 year old, it was a big part of it. There were different badges for the different groups: Elves, Dryads, Nymphs, Gnomes, Fairies, Kelpies, Leprechauns, Pixies, Sprites, Djinn and Lares. Our handbook was full of stories of them helping good and honest girls. At camp there was The Enchanted Forest. It was a large forested area of the camp that was decorated by all the Girl Guides that had come before me. There was a trail of painted yellow rocks to take you through the woods, and glitter cast on the ground. Handmade creatures, mobiles, bells, sparkling stone murals, strings of stars; to us, it was a magical place. We would always trick ourselves into thinking that we had seen... something darting into that hollow log, some light being peeking out from behind a mossy stone and then hiding again, leaving us boasting, and secretly hoping.
As I grew up, I would seek out these stories. Whether traditional or modern, I would devour them, and then dream of colourful wings and ageless creatures. I started to research folk tales and old myths, immersing myself in the endless versions and re-imaginings and ballads. John Bauer and Holly Black fueled my imagination.
I don't really know where I'm going with this anymore. Maybe that I'm just a big ol' dumbass, hahaha. I just read Tithe for the umpteenth time, and my head is still dwelling on the fantastic. I really like the way Holly Black describes her creautures, kind of beautiful and terrible at the same time. I'm going to draw my own interpretations of these, I think.
I just made toast with peach jam, and the flavours are still playing over my tongue. What a nice way to finish off the night. And just so you know, here is my current favourite line:
For I have sworn thee fair, and thought thee bright,
Who art black as hell, as dark as night.
- William Shakespeare, Sonnet CXLVII
with it's accompanying fairy, and a poem to go with it. At one point we had the books for all of the seasons. Our favourite game was to look through and find which one we and people we knew looked like. My mum always said I looked like the Rose Fairy, and it's true, that picture on the left is pretty much what I looked like, sans rose petal dress. These days I'd say I look a lot more like the Wind Flower Fairy.
Girl Guides also had fairies on the brain. I get the feeling that that isn't as much of the focus now, but when I joined brownies as a 7 year old, it was a big part of it. There were different badges for the different groups: Elves, Dryads, Nymphs, Gnomes, Fairies, Kelpies, Leprechauns, Pixies, Sprites, Djinn and Lares. Our handbook was full of stories of them helping good and honest girls. At camp there was The Enchanted Forest. It was a large forested area of the camp that was decorated by all the Girl Guides that had come before me. There was a trail of painted yellow rocks to take you through the woods, and glitter cast on the ground. Handmade creatures, mobiles, bells, sparkling stone murals, strings of stars; to us, it was a magical place. We would always trick ourselves into thinking that we had seen... something darting into that hollow log, some light being peeking out from behind a mossy stone and then hiding again, leaving us boasting, and secretly hoping.As I grew up, I would seek out these stories. Whether traditional or modern, I would devour them, and then dream of colourful wings and ageless creatures. I started to research folk tales and old myths, immersing myself in the endless versions and re-imaginings and ballads. John Bauer and Holly Black fueled my imagination.
I don't really know where I'm going with this anymore. Maybe that I'm just a big ol' dumbass, hahaha. I just read Tithe for the umpteenth time, and my head is still dwelling on the fantastic. I really like the way Holly Black describes her creautures, kind of beautiful and terrible at the same time. I'm going to draw my own interpretations of these, I think.
I just made toast with peach jam, and the flavours are still playing over my tongue. What a nice way to finish off the night. And just so you know, here is my current favourite line:
For I have sworn thee fair, and thought thee bright,
Who art black as hell, as dark as night.
- William Shakespeare, Sonnet CXLVII
Monday, January 10, 2011
Winter Blues
I wish to kill all the customers in the world. The end.
Ah, not the the end. Just had a really bad day, and there was this pounding headache that would not leave me all day. Just... fuck.
In my previous entry, I talked about how frustrating the last year had been. I'm still feeling it. I just feel everything weighing down on me. I just want to accomplish something. Figure out what I want to be, where I want to go to school... Even small stuff, like getting the house all set up and decorated, or figuring out what the hell is wrong with my wireless internet. I'm stealing someone else's WiFi right now, and their network is ironically called HouseOfFaith. I've never been really devout, but Oh Lawd, I believe!
The house just feels like it's going to take so much goddamn work. I have to paint all this stuff, not to mention have the money to buy the stupid paint, and damn, fulfilling my New Years resolution of cutting down on swearing is hard. Things sound so boring without a couple 'fucks' thrown in there. But anyway, I'm just starting to feel overwhelmed with how long it's going to take to get the new house in order. I just want it to be done, boohoohoo.
There's honestly nothing else for my to say right now. I'm just so tired, and I think winter is really giving me the blues this year. I need more Vitamin D. Ah well, tomorrow I will self medicate with Bau Chau's and Sweet Revenge.
Ah, not the the end. Just had a really bad day, and there was this pounding headache that would not leave me all day. Just... fuck.
In my previous entry, I talked about how frustrating the last year had been. I'm still feeling it. I just feel everything weighing down on me. I just want to accomplish something. Figure out what I want to be, where I want to go to school... Even small stuff, like getting the house all set up and decorated, or figuring out what the hell is wrong with my wireless internet. I'm stealing someone else's WiFi right now, and their network is ironically called HouseOfFaith. I've never been really devout, but Oh Lawd, I believe!
The house just feels like it's going to take so much goddamn work. I have to paint all this stuff, not to mention have the money to buy the stupid paint, and damn, fulfilling my New Years resolution of cutting down on swearing is hard. Things sound so boring without a couple 'fucks' thrown in there. But anyway, I'm just starting to feel overwhelmed with how long it's going to take to get the new house in order. I just want it to be done, boohoohoo.
There's honestly nothing else for my to say right now. I'm just so tired, and I think winter is really giving me the blues this year. I need more Vitamin D. Ah well, tomorrow I will self medicate with Bau Chau's and Sweet Revenge.
Monday, January 3, 2011
Skip The Review
I realize that last post was rather negative. That's okay, because I myself am rather negative. It's just that 2011 has, so far, only brought me shit. But oh, who cares about that.
I didn't really want to write a mushy, wishy-washy New Years entry because I couldn't really muster the enthusiasm. This year, no doubt, had it's ups. The Olympics, 3 years with Max, writing this blog, making jokes and hanging around with people, and getting my tattoo and moving into a new house. But overall, I just felt like this wasn't my best year. It was my first full year out of school, and I mostly just bummed around, feeling purposeless. I've agonized a lot over what I really want in life, and have yet to come to a conclusion. There was just a lot of frustration this year, and it didn't make for good times. At least it went by surprisingly quickly.
I just want to know what I want, and I'm starting to feel kind of desperate.
I want to know if I want to go into this whole art thing. Right now I'm just trying to pinpoint what my hesitations are. Am I hesitant because I'm not sure if I'll be happy? Or because I doubt my own ability. I have a feeling it's the latter of those two. Yeah, actually, that's definitely it. Whenever I think of myself making comics, webcomics and graphic novels, for a living, I get so excited. I could be happy like that. But I just don't believe I have what it takes, even though my friends and family tell me that I do, even though I've drawn some pretty great things lately. I just don't think I can do it.
Le sigh.
Gah, I'm just having a bit of a blue day today. I got into this big tiff with my father, which he is being completely unreasonable about. He believes that blood is the most important thing, no matter what. I believe completely the opposite. So that hung a dark cloud over last night and today. Then I was 30 minutes late for work, and when I went to Bao Chau to try and drown my woes in some rice noodles and pork hash, I accidentally ordered the wrong thing. Ffffuuu-
Oh well. Maybe tomorrow will be better.
Now, I've never been one for New Years resolutions, but I am going to make two right now.
1) Stop swearing so much
The only reason I swear this much in the first place is for the comedic value. Swearing, in the proper place, is hilarious. But I was talking to Max that other day, and he made a comment (not in a mean or criticizing way) about how much I swear in the things that I write. I didn't realize I swore that much. So, I will try and cut down on swearing more, and use replacement phrases such as "Sweet Chinese Doughnut!" (You had to be there to get the joke. Oh, alright, I'll tell you. Max and I went to the Chinese bakery today, and they had a thing called a Sweet Chinese Doughnut. I said that it sounded like an exclamation, like "Oh my goodness!" or "Sweet Jesus!")
2) Lose weight. For real.
Honestly, I will throw myself in front of a bus if I'm fat for much longer. It's just making me miserable, and I'm tired of it. I don't know what I'm going to do, but boy, whatever it is, I am going to do the hell out of it. Running, sit ups, eating healthy, stretching, or just taking a swing at the old punching bag; I will do it, I will be skinny, and I will spend all my money on fabulous dresses from Forever 21.
Also, a silly one. 3) Get more tattoos! Hahaha. Seriously, I love my tattoo. I will post a picture when it stops peeling and looking gnarly. But yeah, I'm thinking of just get my whole left arm all done up with tattoos (a sleeve). I think it'll look cool, as long as I don't let my arm get all flabby and gross. I'm already drawing out what I want next. I think I want to get pretty one on my chest somewhere, too. Oh, my poor mother.
So, what is there to look forward to in 2011? Italian classes, gardening in our new big garden, fixing up the house and making it a home, visits from friends, getting in shape, and hopefully figuring out what I'm going to do with the rest of my life. Let's see how this goes.
I didn't really want to write a mushy, wishy-washy New Years entry because I couldn't really muster the enthusiasm. This year, no doubt, had it's ups. The Olympics, 3 years with Max, writing this blog, making jokes and hanging around with people, and getting my tattoo and moving into a new house. But overall, I just felt like this wasn't my best year. It was my first full year out of school, and I mostly just bummed around, feeling purposeless. I've agonized a lot over what I really want in life, and have yet to come to a conclusion. There was just a lot of frustration this year, and it didn't make for good times. At least it went by surprisingly quickly.
I just want to know what I want, and I'm starting to feel kind of desperate.
I want to know if I want to go into this whole art thing. Right now I'm just trying to pinpoint what my hesitations are. Am I hesitant because I'm not sure if I'll be happy? Or because I doubt my own ability. I have a feeling it's the latter of those two. Yeah, actually, that's definitely it. Whenever I think of myself making comics, webcomics and graphic novels, for a living, I get so excited. I could be happy like that. But I just don't believe I have what it takes, even though my friends and family tell me that I do, even though I've drawn some pretty great things lately. I just don't think I can do it.
Le sigh.
Gah, I'm just having a bit of a blue day today. I got into this big tiff with my father, which he is being completely unreasonable about. He believes that blood is the most important thing, no matter what. I believe completely the opposite. So that hung a dark cloud over last night and today. Then I was 30 minutes late for work, and when I went to Bao Chau to try and drown my woes in some rice noodles and pork hash, I accidentally ordered the wrong thing. Ffffuuu-
Oh well. Maybe tomorrow will be better.
Now, I've never been one for New Years resolutions, but I am going to make two right now.
1) Stop swearing so much
The only reason I swear this much in the first place is for the comedic value. Swearing, in the proper place, is hilarious. But I was talking to Max that other day, and he made a comment (not in a mean or criticizing way) about how much I swear in the things that I write. I didn't realize I swore that much. So, I will try and cut down on swearing more, and use replacement phrases such as "Sweet Chinese Doughnut!" (You had to be there to get the joke. Oh, alright, I'll tell you. Max and I went to the Chinese bakery today, and they had a thing called a Sweet Chinese Doughnut. I said that it sounded like an exclamation, like "Oh my goodness!" or "Sweet Jesus!")
2) Lose weight. For real.
Honestly, I will throw myself in front of a bus if I'm fat for much longer. It's just making me miserable, and I'm tired of it. I don't know what I'm going to do, but boy, whatever it is, I am going to do the hell out of it. Running, sit ups, eating healthy, stretching, or just taking a swing at the old punching bag; I will do it, I will be skinny, and I will spend all my money on fabulous dresses from Forever 21.
Also, a silly one. 3) Get more tattoos! Hahaha. Seriously, I love my tattoo. I will post a picture when it stops peeling and looking gnarly. But yeah, I'm thinking of just get my whole left arm all done up with tattoos (a sleeve). I think it'll look cool, as long as I don't let my arm get all flabby and gross. I'm already drawing out what I want next. I think I want to get pretty one on my chest somewhere, too. Oh, my poor mother.
So, what is there to look forward to in 2011? Italian classes, gardening in our new big garden, fixing up the house and making it a home, visits from friends, getting in shape, and hopefully figuring out what I'm going to do with the rest of my life. Let's see how this goes.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)