Sometimes

Sometimes life sucks. Sometimes it hurts to go to sleep because I know that all I have to wake up to in the morning is nothing. Sometimes I work so hard for something but nothing comes of it. Sometimes it just doesn't seem worth it anymore.
Now, no worries to all of the zero people reading this blog, I hardly read it myself. I am not suicidal. I could never ever take my own life and can't understand how anyone ever could.
Consequences.
It all comes down to the fact that everything we do has a consequence. Sometimes the consequences are small. Like choosing to eat a peanut butter and jelly sandwich or left overs. Most of the time it isn't going to change your life. Sometimes the consequences are big. Like who to marry. Now you could marry someone who loves you and is willing to work with you to make it through each and every day. Or, just maybe you end up with the man who will beat you. Both have consequences and sometimes you have to choose one.
Sometimes, life still sucks.

WANTED

WANTED: A Job

Hard working, able, fully functioning, busy body in need of employment.
Will work any day (offer excludes Sundays)
Experience in customer service, janitorial work, ice cream mixing and creating, and clothing retail.
Wages start at minimum wage or more.

See me for further details.

Now accepting offers.

Weddings

Sometimes you wake up in a bad mood and other times bad moods are thrust upon you. My bad mood came with one word - Periwinkle.

Once upon a time my sister Chrissie fell in love. She fell far and lucky for the guy fell with her. She waited for him on his mission and in turn he waited for her. Now that she is home, he has proposed and she has consented to m-word him. (In a Shakespeare play this would be marked in the script as an aside) (So - aside - she got engaged Friday and today is the one month mark for her to be home from her mission) (moving a little fast? Ya - just maybe)


All of this fairy tale leads to one thing. A wedding. I hate weddings. It is so much stressed packed into "the happiest day of your life." What a bunch of bull - honky.



Now, some may say that I am just jealous that my sister has found her prince charming and will be getting her happily ever after. Good for her, I still hate weddings. It isn't a jealousy thing, it is a here we go again only this time I am stuck in the middle and can't get out.



First, there is the planning. No matter if you have five months or three weeks, there is still X amount of work to be done in not enough time. You have everything to worry about that is involved in a wedding. You have flowers, pictures, dresses, food, reception hall, invitations, shoes, colors, food, decorations, hairstyle, food, and the fact that you are getting over your head in a whole lot of commitment for a really long time to deal with. If that doesn't stop your heart or make you head spin, you have people to worry about. Uncle Timmy can't be in the sun too long so there should be chairs out of the sun, or Aunt Myrtle simple can't eat cashews so please no cashews or be sure to invite Cousin Voldemort, he's been so lonely lately. So much for the happiest day of your life. You must accommodate to what everyone wants or expects at what expense? At your expense.
Do you have a headache yet? Let me help.

Periwinkle.

Weddings are tough on the bride and groom. Here they genuinely want to get married and society and mother-in-laws have placed an obstacle course ahead of you. Survival of the fittest at its best. The bride has built up so much anger and frustration that she won't take out on the man who will be her forever or his family so where does she turn? The bridesmaids.
You see, this is her day, she is the princess, she is look to fabulous, and she is THE BRIDE. Don't you dare mess with that type of authority. Don't you dare look prettier, dress fancier, or smile bigger. This is her day and **profanity** all eyes will be on her. One problem, on average you have 2 to 3 young girls following the bride everywhere and believe it or not 9 out of 10 times they are still available. Never fear, the bride has a counter attack.
Brides








Maids









Dresses.








Like I said, periwinkle. PERIWINKLE.
Mid-calf to full length, head to toe, Periwinkle.

Best part about brides maid dresses is that you can shorten them and wear them again later.

Shoot me now.

Reality vs. Fancy

Coming to grips with reality is one of the hardest things to do. I wish that when my mind strays and the world I imagine would unfold in front of me and that would be reality. There wouldn't be contention or a feeling of guilt. No way could there be disappointment.
In my psychology class this past semester the teacher said that what your brain tells you is your reality. So if I really wanted to, what I imagine could be reality. The fancy term for that is schizophrenia.

Sleep

In a sleepy town, under the sleepy covers, in a sleepy corner the mind does not sleep. The gears turn, each cog and wind pulling the strings on the knot of anxiety. Numbers, time lines, and a bouncing ball trying to sing along to no known melody.
There is an entire world available it is all a matter of opening the door. A wanderer would never tell you the lump you have to swallow to grab a hold of the door knob. A lump of fear, anxiety, even excitement.
The trick is to act like you know what you're doing. Act like you are supposed to be there. Act like one of the crowd.
And if you were born to stick out? Better luck next time.

Only Words

There is something to be said for the one who speaks without thinking. Being fearless in speaking your mind is a quality possessed by artists. Think about it. Da Vinci probably loved to talk about everything. I imagine that he would lay in his bed late at night staring up at his ceiling rolling ideas around and around with his tongue, waiting for the echo to get back to him.
The funny thing about words is that once you let them out, once you give them a voice, they are gone just like that. From the time when you open your lips to when you lick your upper lip as if to signify a period, the words are already out on the journey into the cosmos.
They can't be taken back, they can't be repeated - not with the same sort of emphasis or feeling.
Leave it to the poet to write it down, to immortalize humanity.
Leave it to the poet to record the disposable.
Leave it to the poet.

A Beautiful Thing

Certainly, there are arguments and debates nation-wide that solely exists because of the world of sports. The Tiger Woods story broke records. A story of a man in the world of sports cheating on his wife was the cover story for days and days, so much so that it was consecutively the cover story more days then the attack on September 11. Now, I am not trying to make a political or social critique but I am saying something about sports.
How do they do it?
There is nothing like seeing the snap of a football into an awaiting quarterback's hands. From here the ball will either be spiraled out to execute a running game play or tucked under the arm to make it to a first down and ultimately, a touch down.
What is it about helmets clashing and men in tight pants that brings awe to my spirit?
There is a certain amount of beauty in the spiral of a ball, soaring 30 yards down the way to expecting arms. There is even more stunning glamour to the arms catching the ball and running to the endzone.
Immediately there are under-dogs and the giants of the game. There are coaches and players. There are fields and fans. There aren't words enough to explain what watching a game does to a person.
There is a certain beauty to the game.