If you've ever not liked the way you looked, I think this post - a wonderfully well-written piece on looking back at an old photo - will hit home. I know I've had this moment myself. You probably have too.
Moreover, it says something about how wrenchingly hard it is to be an adolescent. I had a lot of great times growing up, but God, I wouldn't do it again if you paid me.
Showing posts with label pondering. Show all posts
Showing posts with label pondering. Show all posts
15 July 2008
29 June 2008
10 June 2008
On Bruises
Yesterday's hacking cough has been replaced by today's raspy voice. Between that and my mockery of "heat closings" (In my day schools didn't have air conditioning! You went in your neighbor's pool after school! And then you slept on the floor! You didn’t have air conditioning! Or your own pool! Uphill! Both ways!) I sound like a leathery retiree in Palm Beach. (Except it’s hot there, too, so no thanks.) So it's nice to type instead of talk.
. . .
I post professional stuff a lot, and I like that. (Incidentally, I heard a commercial this morning in which they compared working at Wawa to social networking. I died a small, quiet, geeky death.) I'm very proud of what I do in that vein, but that doesn't change that this still is a personal space. It's a weird balancing act to maintain, but one I think is worth doing.
All of which to say, beware, personal post ahead.
. . .
“Not the pain of this but its unfairness was what dazed Peter. It made him quite helpless. He could only stare horrified. Every child is affected thus the first time he is treated unfairly. All he thinks he has a right to when he comes to you to be yours is fairness. After you have been unfair to him he will love you again, but he will never afterwards be quite the same boy. No one ever gets over the first unfairness; no one except Peter. He often met it, but he always forgot it.” - Peter Pan, J.M. Barrie
I have awfully high expectations. Of life. Of myself. Of other people. So you’d think I’d be accustomed to unending disappointment, not least in myself. But, like Peter Pan, I never seem to remember. (Peter had the excuse of being a fairy tale. What’s mine?)
Since I am only friends, conveniently, with amazing people (they’d agree), it’s easy to believe in them, think better of them, expect more of them. But I’ve had a few disappointments lately of both sorts - letting someone down, and the other way round.
They’re learning experiences. Or would be, except I don’t seem to learn a thing. And maybe it's the stubbornness in me, but truly, I think I’d rather not. Why not expect the world? It might not feel great when you get proven wrong, but isn't it worth it for the rest of the time?
. . .
However, in other and more important places, stories that are not mine to tell, and situations that I can’t imagine being in, are being gone through right now by people who don’t deserve a bit of it about and about whom I care tremendously. If you pray, if you believe in karma – heck, if you believe in fairies – say a few words, clap your hands, do whatever you do to send some good vibes out into the universe for them. Please.
. . .
So, this week is working hard to change what I can – my attitude, if nothing more is within my power. (And, more prosaically, to get out of my car. 500 miles this weekend was a bit extreme.) So far, it’s going swimmingly. Yesterday I had a fantastic lunch with the splendidly fun and smart new pharmaceutical reporter for PRWeek, and had an equally fantastic workout last night. My right toe is now an interesting shade of purple. (From tae kwon do, not lunch.)
And every time I wiggle it I remember that bruises are at least a sure sign that you’re moving. Maybe you did do something dumb to deserve them, but more likely it was just an accident.
So. Don't be afraid to move – and think some good thoughts while you’re at it - and try not to focus on the bruises you get along the way. Not a bad goal for my day today.
. . .
I post professional stuff a lot, and I like that. (Incidentally, I heard a commercial this morning in which they compared working at Wawa to social networking. I died a small, quiet, geeky death.) I'm very proud of what I do in that vein, but that doesn't change that this still is a personal space. It's a weird balancing act to maintain, but one I think is worth doing.
All of which to say, beware, personal post ahead.
. . .
“Not the pain of this but its unfairness was what dazed Peter. It made him quite helpless. He could only stare horrified. Every child is affected thus the first time he is treated unfairly. All he thinks he has a right to when he comes to you to be yours is fairness. After you have been unfair to him he will love you again, but he will never afterwards be quite the same boy. No one ever gets over the first unfairness; no one except Peter. He often met it, but he always forgot it.” - Peter Pan, J.M. Barrie
I have awfully high expectations. Of life. Of myself. Of other people. So you’d think I’d be accustomed to unending disappointment, not least in myself. But, like Peter Pan, I never seem to remember. (Peter had the excuse of being a fairy tale. What’s mine?)
Since I am only friends, conveniently, with amazing people (they’d agree), it’s easy to believe in them, think better of them, expect more of them. But I’ve had a few disappointments lately of both sorts - letting someone down, and the other way round.
They’re learning experiences. Or would be, except I don’t seem to learn a thing. And maybe it's the stubbornness in me, but truly, I think I’d rather not. Why not expect the world? It might not feel great when you get proven wrong, but isn't it worth it for the rest of the time?
. . .
However, in other and more important places, stories that are not mine to tell, and situations that I can’t imagine being in, are being gone through right now by people who don’t deserve a bit of it about and about whom I care tremendously. If you pray, if you believe in karma – heck, if you believe in fairies – say a few words, clap your hands, do whatever you do to send some good vibes out into the universe for them. Please.
. . .
So, this week is working hard to change what I can – my attitude, if nothing more is within my power. (And, more prosaically, to get out of my car. 500 miles this weekend was a bit extreme.) So far, it’s going swimmingly. Yesterday I had a fantastic lunch with the splendidly fun and smart new pharmaceutical reporter for PRWeek, and had an equally fantastic workout last night. My right toe is now an interesting shade of purple. (From tae kwon do, not lunch.)
And every time I wiggle it I remember that bruises are at least a sure sign that you’re moving. Maybe you did do something dumb to deserve them, but more likely it was just an accident.
So. Don't be afraid to move – and think some good thoughts while you’re at it - and try not to focus on the bruises you get along the way. Not a bad goal for my day today.
19 May 2008
Rhetorical Questions from My Internal Monologue
How can I love traveling so much, but hate packing and unpacking this much?
Do horoscopes really tell you anything?
Am I turning into my parents?
Is it OCD of me to put my groceries on the conveyor belt grouped into categories?
Is it OCD of me to worry if that's OCD?
What's the magic number of people to follow on Twitter that's manageable enough to keep up with but broad enough to be useful? (FYI: 100, for me, so far.)
Is the logic behind my eating habits any different from that of a Golden Retriever?
How do people manage to let the ones who meant the most to them slip out of their lives?
Do I think too much?
Do horoscopes really tell you anything?
Am I turning into my parents?
Is it OCD of me to put my groceries on the conveyor belt grouped into categories?
Is it OCD of me to worry if that's OCD?
What's the magic number of people to follow on Twitter that's manageable enough to keep up with but broad enough to be useful? (FYI: 100, for me, so far.)
Is the logic behind my eating habits any different from that of a Golden Retriever?
How do people manage to let the ones who meant the most to them slip out of their lives?
Do I think too much?
28 April 2008
What Matters to You Right Now?
Answer that, please. What's really getting to you?
Now. Please go read this story about Matt Logelin. (You can't see his blog right now - the traffic from the story probably crashed it - but you can see his photostream.)
I defy you not to have it break your heart.
It just makes your world stop. And when it creaks back into motion, all you want to do is find someone you care about and hold them as tight as you can while you tell them exactly how much you love that they are there, that minute, and how much they matter, and how little anything else does.
Maybe, if the smallest bit of good could come from something so breathtakingly unfair, maybe that's it. It's hard to even think that though.
If you pray, or think, or whatever you do - let's do some for him.
Now. Please go read this story about Matt Logelin. (You can't see his blog right now - the traffic from the story probably crashed it - but you can see his photostream.)
I defy you not to have it break your heart.
It just makes your world stop. And when it creaks back into motion, all you want to do is find someone you care about and hold them as tight as you can while you tell them exactly how much you love that they are there, that minute, and how much they matter, and how little anything else does.
Maybe, if the smallest bit of good could come from something so breathtakingly unfair, maybe that's it. It's hard to even think that though.
If you pray, or think, or whatever you do - let's do some for him.
08 April 2008
First Memories
So I've got a new theory: that your first memory is a total Rorschach test for you as a person.
It's worked 100% so far. Everyone I've asked has remembered something that's exactly what you'd pin on them.
The gay remembered rearranging the furniture in his room.
The biker chick remembered hurting herself and getting fixed up.
The thinker remembered realizing she could hear her own thoughts.
The entrepreneur remembered doing what her family thought she couldn't.
The mama remembered standing up to a bully.
The musician remembered his mother surprising him with a new song.
Mine is sitting on my father's shoulders in a dim, green hospital hallway looking down into the nursery window at my new baby brother.
Make of that what you will, but first tell me yours.
(Confidential: this is where you click X Comments and type something!)
It's worked 100% so far. Everyone I've asked has remembered something that's exactly what you'd pin on them.
The gay remembered rearranging the furniture in his room.
The biker chick remembered hurting herself and getting fixed up.
The thinker remembered realizing she could hear her own thoughts.
The entrepreneur remembered doing what her family thought she couldn't.
The mama remembered standing up to a bully.
The musician remembered his mother surprising him with a new song.
Mine is sitting on my father's shoulders in a dim, green hospital hallway looking down into the nursery window at my new baby brother.
Make of that what you will, but first tell me yours.
(Confidential: this is where you click X Comments and type something!)
26 March 2008
Classic Examples III: Symbiosis
There are two classic examples of symbiosis.
One is that bird that sits on a hippo.
The other is the PR person and the reporter.
One is that bird that sits on a hippo.
The other is the PR person and the reporter.
23 March 2008
Classic Examples II: Creativity
When I draw or when I painted - which, sadly, I haven't in years - there's a way my brain has to shift the way it processes my vision. I'm floundering, but this is the best I can explain it. Normally, you don't really concentrate on seeing, you know? You just see. Same as breathing. But when you're trying to replicate what you're looking at, you don't see in the normal way. Things lose the dimensionality and the shape you know they have and just become angles. They lose the colors you know they have and just become tones and shades. You ignore what you know things actually to be, to focus on every element of them. Things stop looking like what they really are.
I'm not sure that explanation works, but it's the best I can do.
I guess the same shifts happen with words, too - when you're simultaneously looking at something for the narrative or the grammar or the flow or the arrangement on the page. But that's more fluid for me. And I guess it happens physically, too - when you start being aware of your breath or your movement. It probably happens if you're a musician. Or if you meditate a lot.
But my point is that clunk in your brain, that moment when it comes out of gear and the process goes from automatic, to something deliberate that you're making yourself conscious of. It must be that way all the time for people who are stunningly, startlingly creative. They must be permanently off autopilot. What a brilliantly beautiful - but utterly daunting - life to consider.
So what's my example (since I've decided to start looking at examples)? The most free-rangingly creative person I can think of is Ze Frank. I haven't gotten into most of his stunts or projects, not the way some of my friends have. But his latest is Color Wars. Google Ze Frank, Twitter and color wars if you're curious. Basically... he found a new medium, and where some people (i.e., me) would hang back and poke around till you figure out how everyone else plays - he lobbed a water balloon into the middle to see what would happen. And if it's anything like The Show, it'll be a community-building, difficult-to-describe collection of creativity just for the joy of creativity.
He seems to be one of those people who wake up every day out of gear, looking at everything slightly unfocused so he can notice at what everyone else is missing.
Enviable.
I'm not sure that explanation works, but it's the best I can do.
I guess the same shifts happen with words, too - when you're simultaneously looking at something for the narrative or the grammar or the flow or the arrangement on the page. But that's more fluid for me. And I guess it happens physically, too - when you start being aware of your breath or your movement. It probably happens if you're a musician. Or if you meditate a lot.
But my point is that clunk in your brain, that moment when it comes out of gear and the process goes from automatic, to something deliberate that you're making yourself conscious of. It must be that way all the time for people who are stunningly, startlingly creative. They must be permanently off autopilot. What a brilliantly beautiful - but utterly daunting - life to consider.
So what's my example (since I've decided to start looking at examples)? The most free-rangingly creative person I can think of is Ze Frank. I haven't gotten into most of his stunts or projects, not the way some of my friends have. But his latest is Color Wars. Google Ze Frank, Twitter and color wars if you're curious. Basically... he found a new medium, and where some people (i.e., me) would hang back and poke around till you figure out how everyone else plays - he lobbed a water balloon into the middle to see what would happen. And if it's anything like The Show, it'll be a community-building, difficult-to-describe collection of creativity just for the joy of creativity.
He seems to be one of those people who wake up every day out of gear, looking at everything slightly unfocused so he can notice at what everyone else is missing.
Enviable.
16 March 2008
I'm Listening (and Thinking)
Political, sort of, but nothing Obamariffic today. Instead, a reminder of how chillingly matter-of-fact people can be in their ignorance and hate.
(via via)
Shakespeare said, "The devil can cite Scripture for his purpose." How much more so can a person with good intentions twist them so horribly.
The site hosting the video has an open letter to the woman speaking, and it's worth reading. It isn't hateful. It points out that such offhand talk is, in fact, hate speech, and does, in fact, tacitly condone, and therefore perpetuate, hate crimes.
Inspiring people to want to kill someone who hasn't hurt anyone is evil. I don't see any way around that.
And the "but it's in the Bible" rationale gets me madder faster than just about anything. If you're religious - and I am - this is a great article on it.
I don't take the Bible verbatim and I don't understand people who do. But I believe, as Voltaire, "I disapprove of what you say, but I will defend to the death your right to say it." Hypocrisy has no place in that, though. Either you take it as literal truth, or you take it as spiritual teaching. A or B. You can't pick or choose the bits you want to ignore. It's illogical, it's academically unsound, it's just plain cheating.
So if you want to take those half dozen ancient laws as guidance against homosexuality than you take every last one of those ancient laws. And everyone who has divorced, cheated, cursed, worn cotten and silk together, eaten pork, had their period, masturbated, used birth control, mixed races, cut their hair or eaten shellfish - we're all screwed.
Some religious thinking on a Palm Sunday on which I've missed church and am okay with maybe therefore going straight to a cotton/poly blend hell full of seafood and hair salons.
(via via)
Shakespeare said, "The devil can cite Scripture for his purpose." How much more so can a person with good intentions twist them so horribly.
The site hosting the video has an open letter to the woman speaking, and it's worth reading. It isn't hateful. It points out that such offhand talk is, in fact, hate speech, and does, in fact, tacitly condone, and therefore perpetuate, hate crimes.
Inspiring people to want to kill someone who hasn't hurt anyone is evil. I don't see any way around that.
And the "but it's in the Bible" rationale gets me madder faster than just about anything. If you're religious - and I am - this is a great article on it.
I don't take the Bible verbatim and I don't understand people who do. But I believe, as Voltaire, "I disapprove of what you say, but I will defend to the death your right to say it." Hypocrisy has no place in that, though. Either you take it as literal truth, or you take it as spiritual teaching. A or B. You can't pick or choose the bits you want to ignore. It's illogical, it's academically unsound, it's just plain cheating.
So if you want to take those half dozen ancient laws as guidance against homosexuality than you take every last one of those ancient laws. And everyone who has divorced, cheated, cursed, worn cotten and silk together, eaten pork, had their period, masturbated, used birth control, mixed races, cut their hair or eaten shellfish - we're all screwed.
Some religious thinking on a Palm Sunday on which I've missed church and am okay with maybe therefore going straight to a cotton/poly blend hell full of seafood and hair salons.
01 March 2008
TED on Love
The inimitable Matthall turned me on to TED.
It's what happens when the smartest people alive focus on the most fun and interesting parts of science and music and life. It's amazing.
Since the annual conference is this week, I've got a few dozen posts to catch up to on my RSS for the TED blog, but here's one of my first favorites.... a video on love by a Rutgers anthropologist. It's not short, but don't let that scare you. You won't notice the time.
It's what happens when the smartest people alive focus on the most fun and interesting parts of science and music and life. It's amazing.
Since the annual conference is this week, I've got a few dozen posts to catch up to on my RSS for the TED blog, but here's one of my first favorites.... a video on love by a Rutgers anthropologist. It's not short, but don't let that scare you. You won't notice the time.
29 February 2008
Hindsight
I thought and rethought that last post. But I let it stay. After all, it's true.
I felt like I was being oddly cryptic, though, to put it out there and not explain myself.
Basically, my mother's an alcoholic, I guess since about when that picture was taken. And I've spoken to her once in the last eight years.
I'd be prouder of myself if I could handle a relationship with her, but I haven't been able to figure out how to do it and keep myself okay at the same time.
It's not a dramatic story. She tried to be a good parent. She didn't want to hurt anybody. She's just profoundly unhappy. I wish it wasn't like that, but it is.
So, that's it.
With that said, just to clarify... I am happy. Most days, I'm happy to the point where I feel like I'm tempting fate.
I do think it's a choice. Very much so. But when you're as embarrassingly lucky as I am in so many ways... it isn't a hard one.
I felt like I was being oddly cryptic, though, to put it out there and not explain myself.
Basically, my mother's an alcoholic, I guess since about when that picture was taken. And I've spoken to her once in the last eight years.
I'd be prouder of myself if I could handle a relationship with her, but I haven't been able to figure out how to do it and keep myself okay at the same time.
It's not a dramatic story. She tried to be a good parent. She didn't want to hurt anybody. She's just profoundly unhappy. I wish it wasn't like that, but it is.
So, that's it.
With that said, just to clarify... I am happy. Most days, I'm happy to the point where I feel like I'm tempting fate.
I do think it's a choice. Very much so. But when you're as embarrassingly lucky as I am in so many ways... it isn't a hard one.
27 February 2008
Possessions
A box on my doorstep.
Bubble wrap and a pink plastic bag.
A packet of old letters and photos in an old stationery box.
A card, as always with no printed message, just a short handwritten
"March 3, 2008. Dear Sarah, Happy 30th birthday. Love, Mom"
Maybe most people don't immediately think about how giving away possessions is a warning sign of suicide when they open their birthday presents.
I wish I didn't.
Bubble wrap and a pink plastic bag.
A packet of old letters and photos in an old stationery box.
A card, as always with no printed message, just a short handwritten
"March 3, 2008. Dear Sarah, Happy 30th birthday. Love, Mom"
Maybe most people don't immediately think about how giving away possessions is a warning sign of suicide when they open their birthday presents.
I wish I didn't.
25 February 2008
That Thing You Do
Patti's blog made me stop and wonder about the things we do. The tiny ones, most of all.
Chaos theory, I guess you could call it? Implications. Ripples. Meaning.
Something small a stranger does that changes the course of your day. Something someone says in passing - to you, about you, around you - that you remember still, years later.
You're thinking of one right now, aren't you?
The thing is, most times the person doesn't even notice or remember what's been said or done. But, whatever it is, it sticks, it stays, and it makes a difference. And sometimes it's good and sometimes it isn't.
I wish you could tell what things are going to do that to people, but I don't think you can. So I guess tonight I'm thinking about the things I do.
Chaos theory, I guess you could call it? Implications. Ripples. Meaning.
Something small a stranger does that changes the course of your day. Something someone says in passing - to you, about you, around you - that you remember still, years later.
You're thinking of one right now, aren't you?
The thing is, most times the person doesn't even notice or remember what's been said or done. But, whatever it is, it sticks, it stays, and it makes a difference. And sometimes it's good and sometimes it isn't.
I wish you could tell what things are going to do that to people, but I don't think you can. So I guess tonight I'm thinking about the things I do.
14 February 2008
But What's the Point?
I was just playing around with Pownce since Peter Twittered that it's out of beta.
God, that is one geeky sentence.
But anyway. It's all pretty and well-designed, but I just don't get the whole microbloggy thing. And you know I've tried.
I don't see the point of Twitter, unless I wanted to be some CNN headline source to my friends. Why am I going to tell my whole list of people what I'm doing? Who cares? If I have something to say, I'd blog about it and be equally meaningless that way.
At least Pownce gives you a continuum between IM and microblog - you can send a message or a file to one person, or a list, or everybody. But still, it just doesn't seem very useful. I can already do that with IM or email or Facebook. What do I need one more application for?
Shrug. Please, somebody enlighten me.
Edited to add: dude, I can't believe you check your own links.
God, that is one geeky sentence.
But anyway. It's all pretty and well-designed, but I just don't get the whole microbloggy thing. And you know I've tried.
I don't see the point of Twitter, unless I wanted to be some CNN headline source to my friends. Why am I going to tell my whole list of people what I'm doing? Who cares? If I have something to say, I'd blog about it and be equally meaningless that way.
At least Pownce gives you a continuum between IM and microblog - you can send a message or a file to one person, or a list, or everybody. But still, it just doesn't seem very useful. I can already do that with IM or email or Facebook. What do I need one more application for?
Shrug. Please, somebody enlighten me.
Edited to add: dude, I can't believe you check your own links.
12 February 2008
Questions I've Been Asked This Week
Did you defend me?
Do you trust her?
Does he have an accent?
Can you take care of him?
To which the answer to every one is, I realize just now, exactly the same:
not as much as I want.
Surprising. I wonder what that says about me. I don't really know.
I think the snow falling outside is making me kind of quiet and thinky.
Do you trust her?
Does he have an accent?
Can you take care of him?
To which the answer to every one is, I realize just now, exactly the same:
not as much as I want.
Surprising. I wonder what that says about me. I don't really know.
I think the snow falling outside is making me kind of quiet and thinky.
08 February 2008
I'll Pencil You In
Am I weird for having to make plans two or even three weeks in advance?
Twice now this week somebody's been like, "Then? Really? Not till THEN?"
The first time I figured it was just a fluke. But twice? I'm starting to get self-conscious.
Is this odd? Rude?
Am I odd? Rude?
Discuss.
Twice now this week somebody's been like, "Then? Really? Not till THEN?"
The first time I figured it was just a fluke. But twice? I'm starting to get self-conscious.
Is this odd? Rude?
Am I odd? Rude?
Discuss.
03 February 2008
Keeping the Paparazzi Employed
I came across this post today on the Heath Ledger video and it sort of put me in my place.
First of all, I'm going to hear enough celebrity gossip; I don't really need to go looking for it even if I do want it. It's definitely not necessary, having the coworkers I do, let alone everywhere else you hear it.
But more importantly, if I want it, what do I really want it for? I get self-conscious and awkward enough that I can see how awful it must be to have floodlights on your life 24 hours a day.
I do believe that people sign themselves up for that when they decide to be professional entertainers (and I think people who do that are, by definition, lacking some very basic sense of self) - but still.
It doesn't help me any to know what horrific things they're doing, does it? Apart from some schadenfreude. And that's not so great.
First of all, I'm going to hear enough celebrity gossip; I don't really need to go looking for it even if I do want it. It's definitely not necessary, having the coworkers I do, let alone everywhere else you hear it.
But more importantly, if I want it, what do I really want it for? I get self-conscious and awkward enough that I can see how awful it must be to have floodlights on your life 24 hours a day.
I do believe that people sign themselves up for that when they decide to be professional entertainers (and I think people who do that are, by definition, lacking some very basic sense of self) - but still.
It doesn't help me any to know what horrific things they're doing, does it? Apart from some schadenfreude. And that's not so great.
05 January 2008
Weekly Roundup: Mercantile Edition
I need to knock off the shopping in 2008. But that doesn't mean I can't window shop. Pretending is good. So here are a bunch of my favorites, kind of in a Lovemarks way.
Markets
Clothes and etc.
Food and Drinks
As I write this list I realize this probably is a pretty good personality test. I wonder what it says about me?
Apart from that I'm appallingly snobby and shop far too much, I mean?
Markets
- Artsy things are to be had at Supermarket and Mighty Goods and Etsy (especially Vandalized Vintage, J. Davis, Paperstories and Albertine Press).
- The old faithful megastores: Amazon and eBay, Zappos and Bluefly.
- The only things that take care of my face are Kiehls and Cetaphil. Always.
- Jo Malone makes me smell pretty.
- If I wear makeup, it's Bobbi Brown or Prescriptives. If, that is, it's Jillian-approved.
Clothes and etc.
- I know I'm annoyingly ex-US: Gerard Darel, Guru, Gola, and Burberry. (And H&M!)
- Here's where I get American: Banana Republic, Victoria's Secret and Lucky.
Food and Drinks
- Veuve Clicquot and Poland Spring and Guinness. (Depending upon circumstance.)
- Rosa Mexicano is my favoritest restaurant.
- If you're having candy, go all the way: Nerds or Fry's Turkish Delight. (Also McVities.)
- Lucky Charms are not just for breakfast.
- I am a slut for Smythson stationery goods.
- Continental takes me places.
- Virgin Atlantic takes me home.
As I write this list I realize this probably is a pretty good personality test. I wonder what it says about me?
Apart from that I'm appallingly snobby and shop far too much, I mean?
04 January 2008
11 December 2007
Facebook Status: The Blog Post
Sarah is...
an awful lot of things she's not about to say on Facebook.
not feeling Christmassy even though it's two weeks away.
not able to do a single thing right today.
sick of everyone in the whole world.
trying so hard to be nice and failing miserably.
ready to shut the door, slide down the wall and have a good cry.
not done working yet.
just barely missing seeing two of her favorite people, one after the other.
wondering if two of her other favorite people maybe don't deserve the status.
grateful to the two people who made her laugh today.
having that thing where you write a word too many times and it looks funny. people.
(only the biscuit will get this: people! "poy-pull! fill-ims!")
realizing that to be creative, you have to actually create.
remembering that it's not creating that's hard - it's everything up to it.
not quite sure how to do all the things she wants to do.
not quite sure what she wants to do.
not quite sure what she wants.
surprised by how much a mood can change the exact same life from lovely to not.
hoping tomorrow will be better.
an awful lot of things she's not about to say on Facebook.
not feeling Christmassy even though it's two weeks away.
not able to do a single thing right today.
sick of everyone in the whole world.
trying so hard to be nice and failing miserably.
ready to shut the door, slide down the wall and have a good cry.
not done working yet.
just barely missing seeing two of her favorite people, one after the other.
wondering if two of her other favorite people maybe don't deserve the status.
grateful to the two people who made her laugh today.
having that thing where you write a word too many times and it looks funny. people.
(only the biscuit will get this: people! "poy-pull! fill-ims!")
realizing that to be creative, you have to actually create.
remembering that it's not creating that's hard - it's everything up to it.
not quite sure how to do all the things she wants to do.
not quite sure what she wants to do.
not quite sure what she wants.
surprised by how much a mood can change the exact same life from lovely to not.
hoping tomorrow will be better.
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