Music Monday: Put It In a Fruit Machine?

Well.

I am a fever.

Because I woke up with one.

I wasn't born typical. And I'm not happy about being sick. Again.

I was going to be productive today.

Was.

Now I'm just going to sleep (and probably watch Skins when I get tired of sleeping).

Am I a Blabber Mouth?

Sometimes I think I may be too open with people. I think this blog may be a perfect example of this problem. Why I feel the need to say everything I'm thinking; or tell people I just met the entire truth of my past relationships I have no idea. A part of me is like, they should know everything so they don't think I'm a liar or secretive or something. But maybe they don't need to know everything all at once. Which is sort of my problem. I like everyone to know everything. I can't keep secrets about myself, though I'm really good at keeping other people's secrets.

And yet at the same time I feel that most people have absolutely no idea what I'm really doing with my day, with my dates, with my life. But that's okay because I have no idea what they're doing with their day, their dates, their lives. So. I guess this argument with myself is pointless.

Perhaps what's really going on is that I'm keeping secrets about myself from myself and this blog and me blabbing to everyone is a way for me to hide from myself about those secrets.

Inside I'm just a scared, guilty, sad little girl who never feels good enough, thin enough, smart enough, fun enough--no matter how many people tell me otherwise. No matter how much I tell myself otherwise. No matter how much I want to be an empowered feminist who loves her body and her mind and her soul, the truth is I got some issues. And I feel the more I talk, the more I write, the more I say, the sooner they will go away.

Though I've been writing and talking a lot lately and nothings really changed. . .

I wonder if the opposite would work better?

9 Random Thoughts: On My Day So Far.

1) It's annoying to see people out running while it's snowing outside, but what's even worse than that is to see couples running together while it's snowing. They're so fit and they're so cute weee, weee, weee, barf.

(seriously, don't these kinds of images make you die a little bit on the inside?)

2) I went to a thrift store today and got the most badass Monica-Lewinsky-blue late 80's style dress. It takes hardcore yoga moves to zip myself into it, but totally worth it.

3) I looked out the window early and there was a leash-less dog taking a mega crap in the neighbors yard. Then it nonchalantly ran off in the other direction. No owner was ever spotted. These are the amazing highlights of Denver living.

4) If I were a Gossip Girl character I think I'd be. . . Vanessa. But I'd never ever ever fuck Dan. So nevermind. I'd be Blair. If I were a Skins character I'd be Frankie---though I haven't seen this entire season yet, so that might not be true. I'd want to be Effie but I'll never be that crazycool.

5) My second date is tonight. I have no idea what to wear; this is not a surprising sentence I am aware of that... how can I be cute, comfortable and slightly sexy all at once? I'll figure it out. No. I will not wear the Monica-Lewinski dress.

6) There is one place in Denver where you can go in and hang out for like 10 minute or 3 hours and no matter what you'll escape smelling like an ashtray. It's weird because there's so many smoke-free places now. I'm not a fan of this. Happy I wasn't a drunk in 1979.

7) I feel like I live in the perfect building to get a stalker. These open windows. These ok cupid daters that know where I live-ish.

8) It's a red wine kind of day. But more than likely I'm just whine all day.

9) I've been thinking about how I'd really like a nickname. But you can't give yourself a nickname. And I never did anything cute enough to get one when I was younger, you know like"Tootie" or "Fartbags"... and I'm not badass enough currently to have someone want to call me something other than Krystal. I did have a woman explain to me that Krystal is a stripper name, so I guess, my real name is already a nickname and I should start taking my clothes off for money.

10 Random Thoughts: Food, Dates, Disorders.

1) I realize now why women often date older men. They have jobs. They have cars. They have their own place where they actually clean-up after themselves. They can have conversations that revolve around more than whether or not The Wire was the greatest show ever made.

2) The biggest problem with OK Cupid is that I want to go check out this guy I had drinks with last night, but he'd totally know I was checking him out unless I browsed anonymously, but then I wouldn't be able to see who was checking me out *sigh*

3) And I'm going on a second date. First second date. Work it.

4) I'd like to openly admit something. I'm afraid that I am developing a slight eating disorder. I know it has to do with control. I love food and I can control that love. Lately I've enjoyed feeling hallow. That hallow feeling of hungry. No one worry. This is just a phase. I know I'll get my appetite back and then I'll have to start working out again.

5) I will do almost anything to get out of writing something until the very last day that it needs to be written. I mean, I will even do the dishes. And that's saying a lot. Uggh the writing life.

6) Dots are the best candy ever made. And they're vegan so life is good.

7) Being vegan has been hard recently. Not hard like I haven't been able to do it, but everyone I've been hanging out with has been giving me shit about it. Fuck off, I don't eat dead animals/ animal products. And I don't sit around bitching about you doing it. So leave me in peace.

8) Fucking Skins. Every season. Is so gggreeeaattt!!! So many drugs. So much sex. Why couldn't I have gone to high school in the U.K.? Probably for the best, I would have ended up pregnant or in jail or dead. And I don't like the idea of any of those things.

9) There must be a lot of drunk drivers on any given night in the city. Any city. Just imagine if two people are out on a date. And two more people are out on a date. And a group of people are at a show. And three alcoholics have been in the bar all day. And the soccer moms' just had a girls night out. I'm just surprised everyone usually makes it out okay. I hope I don't jinx anyone. TAKE THE BUS.

10) Something magical is going to happen this weekend. Something magical. I can feel it.

It Was All Already Clear: But I Couldn't Stop It.

A couple of weeks ago my friend read my tarot cards. My immediate-future card said that there would be much death.

Well.

All my plants died.

I wrecked my car.

I had my period.

And today I basically lost my job.

So, death much, yes.

Very much yes.

I can hear my mother an entire state away, sighing, “I told you so.”

And I can hear my roommate, 15 blocks away at her real-life-paying-job, groaning, “gggrreeaatt.”

But. Dear Friends and Family.

I have no fear.

It will all become clear. Soon enough. My future-future card looks BRIGHT!!! And my horoscope said that this year I’d become famous—which would only be like a year off from the time prediction that the Native-American-Meth-Head woman gave me in Hays five years ago right before Virgin and the Bandits played.

Yeah, so I just have to believe.

And probably put some effort into life.

Actually. I was thinking the other day that I need to learn how to read tarot cards now that I inherited a deck from my friend . . . perhaps I can start charging for that. I don’t know if I could make $500 a month doing it, but maybe enough to keep me in beer. . .

Also. I’ve been thinking about all of us who have degrees in the “arts” and how most of us are unemployed or underemployed or shitty-employed and how most of our days are spent wanking off in one way or the other—whether it’s wasting our time applying to jobs we don’t really want while streaming Netflix tv shows, or waiting tables to have enough money for rent and beer but little else—we are wanking wankers. And what we need to be is creators. We need to unite and make something together. Even if it’s low-budget (because it has to be). At least it would be better than mediocrity. We’d feel accomplished. We’d feel that even though we’re not quite fitting into mainstream capitalist culture at least we’re fitting in the way of feeling productive. Think about it; if everyone who wasn't really doing much actually did something...wwwoooaahhh!! crazy time.

I’m currently accepting applications for others to join me in this endeavor. And by applications, I mean, tell me you’re in.

To new, new, beginnings!

The Art of Being a Twat.

I feel like a twat.

I don't even know what a twat is, just that they say it a lot in Skins and I'm guessing it's like the British word for "cunt."

Am I spiraling out of control? It feels like I may be.

It's because I am in the middle of complete indecision. I can't figure out what I want. And so, I think I'm taking that out on everyone I know. Not everyone I know, but a lot of people. My intentions aren't evil I swear, the problem is, I'm not really thinking through my intentions.

I'm just sucking at life.

I try to be thoughtful and caring and considerate but I can't be those things all the time. I can't be anything all of the time.

I feel like I've wrapped myself in invisible bubble wrap so as to prevent any sort of feelings or love or hate from penetrating my heart.

I am Chuck Bass.

But even Bass found love with Blair (I know eventually they break up even though I haven't gotten that far in the series).

Even cold distant manipulative Chuck Bass opened his heart for at least one and a half seasons.

I on the other hand just want to hide under the bubble wrap.

It should be okay for me to do right? It's my protection during this heartbreak recovery.

Often though, I think what bothers me more than anything is that my heart doesn't really feel broken. Because I don't feel anything. And that's the scary part. I've been listening to all these breakup songs, trying to figure out how I'm actually supposed to feel this, to react to it, and I get it, I mean I understand how other people have felt, but for me really it's just numbness.

I've had several people ask me why I even bothered joining an online dating site if I wasn't going to take it seriously. I think they know the answer to this, but they just want to hear me say it. I obviously want to feel wanted. Even if I don't really want to want any one right now. And yeah, that's fucked up but I can't help it.

I know deep down that I'm smartbeautifulfun, whatever, but surface, I don't feel it right now. I have enough confidence to get through the day. But not enough to imagine my future.

Or really to even think of what I'm doing to other people.

I should probably hide for awhile. The problem is, if I hide I'm afraid I will never reemerge.

So instead I'm self destructing in public.

Enjoy the show, I suppose, because it's going to be awhile before I save myself.

(I've been crying to this song since 1997, here's to another year and another layer of meaning!)

9 Random Thoughts: Mostly About Doodes.

1) Has anyone else noticed at parties or bars or shows that a lot of guys go to the bathroom a ridiculous amount of times in a night? Once I was hanging out with this guy and I swear he went to the bathroom like 8 times in the course of two bands playing. Not only that but they spend a lot of time in there too. What are you guys doing? I am so curious.

2) I made this hummus with lentils, which I've never done before, it's weird, the texture reminds me of play-doh, which really kind of freaks me out.

3) I think I'm addicted to the internet.

4) I started making this painting the other day using the olive oil left over in a container that had once held stuffed grape leaves, so the olive oil was this cool green color. Anyway... I'm wondering if it's okay to use olive oil on a canvas....like is it just going to rot? And if it does, should I just write some deep philisphical meaning about the piece, like, "with this painting I am expressing how art and life, life and art is always changing. This is about the cycle of creation, the cycle of existence; we're here and we slowly decay." IDK. I think I could pull off being a visual artist. If I wanted to.

5) I almost lost 1-4 because I clicked the wrong button. Lucky for you all, I saved it right in the nick of time.

6) Also, pretty happy I got this iSkin for the holidays, since I just dropped play-doh hummus on my computer. This is why I needed a keyboard condom.

7) Speaking of condoms. . .what a weird but necessary invention. I wonder who I'm going to have sex with in 2012? I totally just went to OK Cupid to browse through my potential prospects. It's not looking promising. Although there are plenty of doodes that wanna fuck me. Gross.

8) Why do doodes think that just because they talk to me I am automatically going to want to have sex with them? Just because I like having sex (which most people do) it doesn't mean I want to have it with just any one.

9) OMG OKC is distracting! I did find a cute one, finally. We'll see how this goes. Wish me luck.