I am burping up kale chips - they are so damn easy to make, who can say why I avoided imagining it to be difficult as opposed to just trying and knowing. I need to go back and re-read all my instances of telling myself why did I wait? Burro! Self, stop being one.
My current pedicure blows. The thing is I can't really blame the pedicurist - I dislike few things with as much passion as my feet being touched. In my hyperbolic way of speaking - it's truly the worst. It's not so much ticklish as sheer physical revulsion. I feel like pins are being stuck in my spine. I have a bad habit of jerking my feet out of their hands. Danger when they are using a straight blade to shave my hooves. Awful! The description and sensation. And yet, apt nonetheless. I'm having a do-over with my sweet mumma tomorrow. We both like it when it's over. I wish I had the weeds at home then I could calm myself the F down. I have very sparkly red toe nails right now. That part makes me happy.
I am trying to drink tons of water as I'm really into chia these days and those tiny muthas are sucking the life out of me whilst supplying a significant dose of omegas, calcium, phosphorus (what is that good for?) and manganese (I'm off to google, I don't even know what I am doing to my body...) I even know a nutritionist, why don't I just go to her and say these are my goals - whatchu think? Because I love the internet. I was reading the comments section - which is actually the dumbest thing to do on the internet. Dumbest, hands down. - and someone was all I am SO TIRED of hearing about coconut oil and I was like, well, you're wrong. And that's the best. Reading someone on the internet and being certain of how much more right you are than that anonymous schmo in the Universe.
Holy carp! mega fibre and protein! High fives, Self! Why did I start taking Chia? Who recommended this to me? I am such a follower.
I have been in a Buzzfeed hole for most of the day. Thank you Buzzfeed. You are the Best. I'm not just saying that. This is an authentic expression of affection and gratitude.
I need to eat more pumpkin - it seems to be a wonder food. I love pumpkin. Seeds. with Salt. I actually love salt. Although, sugar is the tool of the devil, according to my flawless research, and insidious! Companies give it a jillion different names and then it's in everything so basically you're hooped. I give up. Before starting. Although, maybe I should be of the every little bit helps mentality?
Regretably, the mentality I am in right now is rage. Hormonally based, this time but doesn't help when all I want is to wrap my hands around everyone's throat. I feel I'm pretty intuitive and am not a bad mind reader for those around me but I am not fucking omniscient and when treated as being less than for not being all seeing/knowing, I want to smash plates/faces.
I partially typed and low level was reading like, woah. Someone's angry!
ME! I'M THAT SOMEBODY!
It does feel melodramatic to see the flail in a literary fashion.
I also tend to be a stamp down the anger type of individual as opposed to feeling my emotions as they happen etc. The thing is that every time I get mad/irritated I tell myself it's a dumb thing to get upset about and that I should just move past it. Except, I don't and become a goddamn powder keg which is healthy for no one. Why aren't we teaching fiscal responsibility and emotion processing in school? Who gives a shit about Algebra? No one! I mean, I guess teach it and maybe there is some practical application for it - I know there is I'm just pissing on Algebra right now. If I had a wiener I'd be pissing on a bunch of things. Like, in people's drinks. Omigod, Kid Cudi. Ugh, I feel this song right now. I want an escape pod so that when I am emotional I could be like FK U I'm OUT! Pew!Pew!Pew! Actually, I didn't want laser guns I just can't think of what sound my escape pod makes as I jet away. It's shaped like a hand with middle finger raised. If my shoulders were stronger I'd like to walk around with both middle fingers raised but I'm weak and lazy. And irritated. I should go to all the yoga classes tonight until I sweated out the ragé. It would take a few classes. I just scratched the dog and now my hands smell of dirty fur. The dog makes me happier though so, meh.
There are times when I re-read something I wrote I want to go back and take out any of the edges, any anger, any rudeness but then I have to shrug and say it came out, maybe it wants out. I mean, I get I have a responsibility for how things land with the listener, slash you, but suppression is oppression. Also, rise up.
I want my new sweet living space to pop up between today and next Friday. I want magic , I want to walk through the door and feel a big'ol yes in my soul.
................................
Regretably, the mentality I am in right now is rage. Hormonally based, this time but doesn't help when all I want is to wrap my hands around everyone's throat. I feel I'm pretty intuitive and am not a bad mind reader for those around me but I am not fucking omniscient and when treated as being less than for not being all seeing/knowing, I want to smash plates/faces.
I partially typed and low level was reading like, woah. Someone's angry!
ME! I'M THAT SOMEBODY!
It does feel melodramatic to see the flail in a literary fashion.
I also tend to be a stamp down the anger type of individual as opposed to feeling my emotions as they happen etc. The thing is that every time I get mad/irritated I tell myself it's a dumb thing to get upset about and that I should just move past it. Except, I don't and become a goddamn powder keg which is healthy for no one. Why aren't we teaching fiscal responsibility and emotion processing in school? Who gives a shit about Algebra? No one! I mean, I guess teach it and maybe there is some practical application for it - I know there is I'm just pissing on Algebra right now. If I had a wiener I'd be pissing on a bunch of things. Like, in people's drinks. Omigod, Kid Cudi. Ugh, I feel this song right now. I want an escape pod so that when I am emotional I could be like FK U I'm OUT! Pew!Pew!Pew! Actually, I didn't want laser guns I just can't think of what sound my escape pod makes as I jet away. It's shaped like a hand with middle finger raised. If my shoulders were stronger I'd like to walk around with both middle fingers raised but I'm weak and lazy. And irritated. I should go to all the yoga classes tonight until I sweated out the ragé. It would take a few classes. I just scratched the dog and now my hands smell of dirty fur. The dog makes me happier though so, meh.
There are times when I re-read something I wrote I want to go back and take out any of the edges, any anger, any rudeness but then I have to shrug and say it came out, maybe it wants out. I mean, I get I have a responsibility for how things land with the listener, slash you, but suppression is oppression. Also, rise up.
I want my new sweet living space to pop up between today and next Friday. I want magic , I want to walk through the door and feel a big'ol yes in my soul.
................................
Boo-bee-doo - So... it's been a while since I wrote that passage. In my heart I am writing this blog all day everyday but in my real life, I play a lot of Juice Cubes.
Anyhoo! I found my space and I really feel like I'm going to have a evolutionary stage here. I'm changing, maybe I have a 10 year cycle of forward thrust? Interesting theory. Google Calendar, bookmark Oct 12, 2024. I hope that I am going somewhere hella hot for licentious fun with my best friend for our 45 birthdays. Spouses/lovers included. Anyhoo, I want to take a picture of when I am done unpacking painting and then another photo series every 6 months to see myself progress. I think that will be a real impetuous. I am loving biking back and forth from work. I feel that if my sweet cousin and I do end up running together then I can start rock climbing and boom - back in fighting form, meeting new people, more progress and delight. I really like delight.
It really perplexes me when Moubebe gets fixated on a spot on the wall or under the coffee table, possibly cats do see spectrums/spectres human eyeballs can't pick up, and I see nothing there. When she sees me staring at her she looks off in a random direction and walks a few feet then licks herself like three times before checking if I am still looking. She's a ninja though and I am an apprentice so mayhaps the explanation lies therein.
I'm ready for Missy Elliott's comeback so I hope she gets on that soon. Who wouldn't guest star on that album. I'd buy it on the iTunes. Not as fast as I bought this century's best work but pretty fast. I love her voice and I feel 32% sassier when I nod my head along with her tunes. She's so joyous and defiant in her voice and lyrics land with me. I feel like Missy would help me take over the world or she'd high five me when I went out and did it myself. Which I guess is the best thing you can ask of a friend. I have linked to my top 3 fav videos/songs in this paragraph. Not that there aren't more than three. Her Miss E...So addictive album is part of the soundtrack to my fourth year university which was in so many ways magical. I'd like to be in Louisiana with Missy, a tour of food and fun. Which, as is my oft repeated refrain, is my fav. I've never had gumbo made by anyone from the South. I want it to be from a soft, wrinkly old lady who doesn't talk to me but nods subtly when I explode into raptures from what her vittles have wrought. Then shuffles away to snort and nudge her old lady friends in a continuation of what is a decades long conversation. The timeless easiness of people who have seen it, are over it and are content to be content. Whose eyes silently whisper the spells of earned wisdom but keeps them buttoned in because you aren't ready to know them yet. I once looked at Baka and Dida looking at each other and laughing and almost like whorls of smoke I felt like I could see the decades of living flow between them. They know who the other person is. They've seen all their bullshit and kept all their secrets and still march side step.
Breathe deeply. I take eight slowly in and slower out.
I do feel I am part of a collective. My perceptions of differences and difficulties, made up by me to keep me occupied from the freedom of letting go. When I am zooming around on my bike and my iPod gives me a few gems in a row I feel free and I am totally in love with the world and a voice says anything is possible. There are times I'm sure the voice that whispers, 'You won't,' is right. Has been in the past. Repetition is comforting. Both are seductive but one's a liar. I'm reading hot bitch Amy Poehler's book, "Yes Please" and fuck, it's good. SOOOOO good. I feel it's a loose telling of the journey to herself. The letting go of stories as shackles. And she's in the red tent. She has surrounded herself with and supported a bevy of strong women. I like that. No zero sum, we all push each other ahead from our new platforms. And kindness, I feel that she is working hard on making that the modus operandi and shit, it's work. I'm trying too, but it's easy to backslide into 'those people', 'he always', 'she'll never.' I know it won't always be, and it continuously gets easier but, it's hard to stay in a space of nothingness - no judgement, no emotion, no reaction. Which is totes not to say that I am a robot but if you have those things in your space there's less room for empathy and listening. Sweet Jesus, real listening could be a whole lot more practised. A game changer. Fewer irritated brown onions.
Word.
a haiku:
All by your design
I'm, like, totally profound.
Who whispers loudest?
xo
Anyhoo! I found my space and I really feel like I'm going to have a evolutionary stage here. I'm changing, maybe I have a 10 year cycle of forward thrust? Interesting theory. Google Calendar, bookmark Oct 12, 2024. I hope that I am going somewhere hella hot for licentious fun with my best friend for our 45 birthdays. Spouses/lovers included. Anyhoo, I want to take a picture of when I am done unpacking painting and then another photo series every 6 months to see myself progress. I think that will be a real impetuous. I am loving biking back and forth from work. I feel that if my sweet cousin and I do end up running together then I can start rock climbing and boom - back in fighting form, meeting new people, more progress and delight. I really like delight.
It really perplexes me when Moubebe gets fixated on a spot on the wall or under the coffee table, possibly cats do see spectrums/spectres human eyeballs can't pick up, and I see nothing there. When she sees me staring at her she looks off in a random direction and walks a few feet then licks herself like three times before checking if I am still looking. She's a ninja though and I am an apprentice so mayhaps the explanation lies therein.
I'm ready for Missy Elliott's comeback so I hope she gets on that soon. Who wouldn't guest star on that album. I'd buy it on the iTunes. Not as fast as I bought this century's best work but pretty fast. I love her voice and I feel 32% sassier when I nod my head along with her tunes. She's so joyous and defiant in her voice and lyrics land with me. I feel like Missy would help me take over the world or she'd high five me when I went out and did it myself. Which I guess is the best thing you can ask of a friend. I have linked to my top 3 fav videos/songs in this paragraph. Not that there aren't more than three. Her Miss E...So addictive album is part of the soundtrack to my fourth year university which was in so many ways magical. I'd like to be in Louisiana with Missy, a tour of food and fun. Which, as is my oft repeated refrain, is my fav. I've never had gumbo made by anyone from the South. I want it to be from a soft, wrinkly old lady who doesn't talk to me but nods subtly when I explode into raptures from what her vittles have wrought. Then shuffles away to snort and nudge her old lady friends in a continuation of what is a decades long conversation. The timeless easiness of people who have seen it, are over it and are content to be content. Whose eyes silently whisper the spells of earned wisdom but keeps them buttoned in because you aren't ready to know them yet. I once looked at Baka and Dida looking at each other and laughing and almost like whorls of smoke I felt like I could see the decades of living flow between them. They know who the other person is. They've seen all their bullshit and kept all their secrets and still march side step.
Breathe deeply. I take eight slowly in and slower out.
I do feel I am part of a collective. My perceptions of differences and difficulties, made up by me to keep me occupied from the freedom of letting go. When I am zooming around on my bike and my iPod gives me a few gems in a row I feel free and I am totally in love with the world and a voice says anything is possible. There are times I'm sure the voice that whispers, 'You won't,' is right. Has been in the past. Repetition is comforting. Both are seductive but one's a liar. I'm reading hot bitch Amy Poehler's book, "Yes Please" and fuck, it's good. SOOOOO good. I feel it's a loose telling of the journey to herself. The letting go of stories as shackles. And she's in the red tent. She has surrounded herself with and supported a bevy of strong women. I like that. No zero sum, we all push each other ahead from our new platforms. And kindness, I feel that she is working hard on making that the modus operandi and shit, it's work. I'm trying too, but it's easy to backslide into 'those people', 'he always', 'she'll never.' I know it won't always be, and it continuously gets easier but, it's hard to stay in a space of nothingness - no judgement, no emotion, no reaction. Which is totes not to say that I am a robot but if you have those things in your space there's less room for empathy and listening. Sweet Jesus, real listening could be a whole lot more practised. A game changer. Fewer irritated brown onions.
Word.
a haiku:
All by your design
I'm, like, totally profound.
Who whispers loudest?
xo
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