A little snippet from a story I've been working on:
I stood at the bar casually stirring my tequila sunrise. Kathy was late, as usual. They had the TVs on with some sporting event playing, par for the course. I’ve never been much for sports, but every girl enjoys cute guys in tight pants, so I glanced up to see what was on. Just about the same time, a guy sitting at a corner table caught my eye. He looked tall because he had solid posture, despite the fact that his elbows were resting on the small round table and he was leaning into the wood ever so slightly. He was dressed in dark khakis and a navy blue Ralph Lauren polo. He had a beer in one of his oversized hands, and I wondered if he had ever played basketball. Just as my eyes started to travel from the nape of his neck down toward his backside, he caught me observing him. I turned swiftly back to my drink, taking a hard swig as I tapped my index finger on the glass in time. I made sure my glass was at my lips for five solid seconds, giving him a little time to direct his gaze elsewhere. Setting the glass back on the bar, I stared ahead for another moment, hoping to give the impression that I was thinking about something. Time to look again. I turned my head to the left again, but made sure to look at the television first this time. Of course I wasn’t really interested in the football game, but he didn’t have to know that. Not right away, at least. Finally, after a play was completed, I decided it was time to take another peek. I looked down and inadvertently locked eyes with Mystery Man. His eyes were a deep blue, almost cerulean. I pursed my lips into a very faint smile and simultaneously directed my eyes toward the floor. Wow. He was beautiful. I looked quickly at my watch to show that I was waiting for someone, and then I looked in the direction of the front door.
Maybe he would think I was waiting for a date. After all, I was dressed fairly nicely. Pink satin blouse, my pinstriped pencil skirt, a pair of nude heels. I had even curled my hair that morning. Come to think of it, I was looking pretty hot. Oh, Kathy, I remembered. Shit, still not here. Oh well. Time to check out the hottie some more. I tossed my hair off of my left shoulder and as I started to turn my head back toward him, I could feel a presence beside me. Suddenly my eyes were staring right at his firm chest.
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Monday, November 29, 2010
Existence is futile.
I have gone through most of my 25 years under the impression that I am intelligent, talented, and unique. Just recently, however, I have realized that these things are all lies.
I have been struggling for some time with my "purpose". What is it? How do I achieve it? And why in hell can't I figure out what it is? Many people would tell me to turn to God, that He will reveal my purpose to me. While my way of trying to find my purpose may not be any more productive than prayer, it is also not any less productive, and I refuse to leave major life decisions up to some higher entity. While in the long run, yes, these things may be up to a higher power and not myself, I can at least actively work toward decisions on my own, that way I feel like I have some semblance of control over my own existence. I have been unhappy in my life because I believe that I am here for some greater reason, and I can't figure out how it is that I am supposed to make my mark on society and create my legacy. I have received no signs, to the best of my knowledge, and if anything, there are only more and more hurdles being placed in the way of me finding my destiny.
I had been thinking about going back to school to get a second degree. I really want a job in the creative industry, but I realize it is very competitive, and I may not even be good enough at creative things to excel in that anyway. Several years ago, inspired by the music of Fleetwood Mac, I briefly considered going into sound mixing so that I could work with recording studios and artists to create new music, but for some reason I didn't ever pursue that. Now I've been thinking again about going into that field, but no one who has given me any advice on the subject seems to think it's a good idea. All I know is I don't want to sit at a desk for the rest of my life. I want to be remembered, and I'm not going to be remembered for processing loans or anything else about my heretofore meaningless existence. I have no doubt in my mind that I could easily get into another college. But would it be fruitful for me to do so? I'm already in a career that has absolutely nothing to do with my college major, and if not for the fact that I had to have a four-year degree to get this job, I would even say that going to college the first time was a waste of money. So going back? Well, one good thing would be the fact that I'd be able to defer my current student loans while enrolled full-time, but if I'm taking out more student loans that's sort of counterproductive. I'd also have to relocate, which part of me desperately wants, but another part of me doesn't. I'm already incredibly lonely, and if I move somewhere where I don't know anyone, those feelings will surely only compound.
On the other hand, moving away from all that I know and enrolling in school again would allow for a fresh start, and a fresh start could lead to a new perspective. I would certainly welcome that. But then again, it goes back to the question of whether or not this would be a smart move financially. I struggle as it is, but with an uncertain future in a niche job market and additional debt, the freedom of this new life may be overshadowed by further financial struggle.
See, if God really did care what happened to me, this would be the time where he would step in and point me in the right direction. Or am I supposed to set up a sign for myself? For example, if I get a year-end raise, then that is my sign that I am supposed to stay in Lexington, and if I don't it's time to move on. Is this what I am to do? Set up that guideline and let Him decide which way to take things? I guess that's all I can do for now. It's not like I can just up and move anyway. I just pray that I get my sign, whatever it may be, by March, that way I can actually start making solid plans.
Oh, and the reasons why I feel I'm not special, talented, or unique? Because if I were, I wouldn't be just another millworker. I don't have anything that makes me stand out in a crowd of thousands, nor do I have anything to make me special to the masses. I may be loved by a handful of people, but if they outlive me, when they die, so does my memory, and I don't see that as me being special at all.
I have been struggling for some time with my "purpose". What is it? How do I achieve it? And why in hell can't I figure out what it is? Many people would tell me to turn to God, that He will reveal my purpose to me. While my way of trying to find my purpose may not be any more productive than prayer, it is also not any less productive, and I refuse to leave major life decisions up to some higher entity. While in the long run, yes, these things may be up to a higher power and not myself, I can at least actively work toward decisions on my own, that way I feel like I have some semblance of control over my own existence. I have been unhappy in my life because I believe that I am here for some greater reason, and I can't figure out how it is that I am supposed to make my mark on society and create my legacy. I have received no signs, to the best of my knowledge, and if anything, there are only more and more hurdles being placed in the way of me finding my destiny.
I had been thinking about going back to school to get a second degree. I really want a job in the creative industry, but I realize it is very competitive, and I may not even be good enough at creative things to excel in that anyway. Several years ago, inspired by the music of Fleetwood Mac, I briefly considered going into sound mixing so that I could work with recording studios and artists to create new music, but for some reason I didn't ever pursue that. Now I've been thinking again about going into that field, but no one who has given me any advice on the subject seems to think it's a good idea. All I know is I don't want to sit at a desk for the rest of my life. I want to be remembered, and I'm not going to be remembered for processing loans or anything else about my heretofore meaningless existence. I have no doubt in my mind that I could easily get into another college. But would it be fruitful for me to do so? I'm already in a career that has absolutely nothing to do with my college major, and if not for the fact that I had to have a four-year degree to get this job, I would even say that going to college the first time was a waste of money. So going back? Well, one good thing would be the fact that I'd be able to defer my current student loans while enrolled full-time, but if I'm taking out more student loans that's sort of counterproductive. I'd also have to relocate, which part of me desperately wants, but another part of me doesn't. I'm already incredibly lonely, and if I move somewhere where I don't know anyone, those feelings will surely only compound.
On the other hand, moving away from all that I know and enrolling in school again would allow for a fresh start, and a fresh start could lead to a new perspective. I would certainly welcome that. But then again, it goes back to the question of whether or not this would be a smart move financially. I struggle as it is, but with an uncertain future in a niche job market and additional debt, the freedom of this new life may be overshadowed by further financial struggle.
See, if God really did care what happened to me, this would be the time where he would step in and point me in the right direction. Or am I supposed to set up a sign for myself? For example, if I get a year-end raise, then that is my sign that I am supposed to stay in Lexington, and if I don't it's time to move on. Is this what I am to do? Set up that guideline and let Him decide which way to take things? I guess that's all I can do for now. It's not like I can just up and move anyway. I just pray that I get my sign, whatever it may be, by March, that way I can actually start making solid plans.
Oh, and the reasons why I feel I'm not special, talented, or unique? Because if I were, I wouldn't be just another millworker. I don't have anything that makes me stand out in a crowd of thousands, nor do I have anything to make me special to the masses. I may be loved by a handful of people, but if they outlive me, when they die, so does my memory, and I don't see that as me being special at all.
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
Why Zoey isn't the mother.
A girl I went to high school with posted on Facebook the other night that if it turned out Zoey was the mother (on the show How I Met Your Mother), that she would feel like she wasted these years she's spent watching the show.
I agree. I hate that character, and I'm not terribly fond of the actress that plays her.
But here's why Zoey isn't the mother that we've all waited six seasons, and counting, for. Remember when Ted went out with Cindy (Rachel Bilson)? And it was revealed that the mother was Cindy's roommate, and that all of the guys Cindy dated fell in love with the mother? Well...Zoey can't be the mother because: 1) Zoey is not the kind of woman that guys would fall in love with that easily. 2) Zoey's married, and has been since the age of 22, which we learned a couple episodes ago. Therefore, unless producers want to cheapen Ted's relationship with the mother by beginning it while she is married to someone else, or unless they can come up with a really believable reason why a long-married woman would be living apart from her husband in an apartment with a girlfriend of hers, then there's no way that Zoey is the mother.
And that is my theory for the day.
I agree. I hate that character, and I'm not terribly fond of the actress that plays her.
But here's why Zoey isn't the mother that we've all waited six seasons, and counting, for. Remember when Ted went out with Cindy (Rachel Bilson)? And it was revealed that the mother was Cindy's roommate, and that all of the guys Cindy dated fell in love with the mother? Well...Zoey can't be the mother because: 1) Zoey is not the kind of woman that guys would fall in love with that easily. 2) Zoey's married, and has been since the age of 22, which we learned a couple episodes ago. Therefore, unless producers want to cheapen Ted's relationship with the mother by beginning it while she is married to someone else, or unless they can come up with a really believable reason why a long-married woman would be living apart from her husband in an apartment with a girlfriend of hers, then there's no way that Zoey is the mother.
And that is my theory for the day.
lyrically challenged
Here's the thing about Stevie Nicks, and I apologize if I have posted anything resembling this statement before, but narratively, her songs make no sense. She changes tenses in the middle of a verse, switches from third to first person, mixes her pronouns, and uses incomplete phrases. Which is why it makes absolutely no sense that I love her music so much. I am such a stickler for grammar and continuity within a story, and tense and person changes are major no-nos. On the other hand, one thing that is so cool about Stevie's stuff is how so many of her songs are connected lyrically, which does create continuity within her entire body of work, and I love that fact. She uses the same characters sometimes in multiple songs, and she will repeat a phrase in one song that she used years before in another, or change it ever so slightly to where you still recognize it as a lyric from a previous song. Here's an example:
from "Illume", on Fleetwood Mac's Say You Will
I like the coastal cities
I like the lights...
I like the way the ocean blends
Into the city at night
Like living on a working river
This coastline is glittering
Like a diamond snake
In a black sky
from "Destiny Rules", on Fleetwood Mac's Say You Will
I like the coastal cities, I like the lights
I like the way the city blends into the ocean at night
It's like living on a working river; the coastline is glittering
Like a diamond snake in a black sky
The first song is about 9/11, and I think that serves as a fantastic description of New York City.
Another lyric cross-reference example:
from "Blue Lamp", from the soundtrack to the movie Heavy Metal
Downstairs the big old house is mine
Upstairs where the stars still laugh and they shine
Downstairs where the big old house is mine
Outside where the stars still laugh and
Stars still laugh and shine
And the stars still laugh and cry and shine
And the stars still laugh and cry and shine
And the stars still laugh and shine and shine
from "Welcome to the Room...Sara", from Fleetwood Mac's Tango in the Night
Ooh, downstairs where the
Big old house is mine
Ooh, upstairs where the
Stars laugh and shine
Oh, Oh well I thought that
You were mine
Well I thought that
You were mine
The first two songs are from the same album, but the other two came years apart. Kinda cool. I think, anyway. I got all of the lyrics from The Nicks Fix, btw.
The reason I mentioned Stevie Nicks is that I was listening to some music last night before bed and was wishing I could write songs. Actually I was listening to The Judds. Other songwriters wrote most of their stuff as far as I know, but they did some great songs with really fantastic lyrics. In my life, I have been touched so much by song lyrics, and can really express my emotion much better through the lyrics of others than I can with my own words. I suppose I should try songwriting again. When I did it before, I was in high school, so the lyrics were sort of lame. But I'm a little older and wiser now, so maybe, just maybe I have a shot at not sucking at it this time around.
from "Illume", on Fleetwood Mac's Say You Will
I like the coastal cities
I like the lights...
I like the way the ocean blends
Into the city at night
Like living on a working river
This coastline is glittering
Like a diamond snake
In a black sky
from "Destiny Rules", on Fleetwood Mac's Say You Will
I like the coastal cities, I like the lights
I like the way the city blends into the ocean at night
It's like living on a working river; the coastline is glittering
Like a diamond snake in a black sky
The first song is about 9/11, and I think that serves as a fantastic description of New York City.
Another lyric cross-reference example:
from "Blue Lamp", from the soundtrack to the movie Heavy Metal
Downstairs the big old house is mine
Upstairs where the stars still laugh and they shine
Downstairs where the big old house is mine
Outside where the stars still laugh and
Stars still laugh and shine
And the stars still laugh and cry and shine
And the stars still laugh and cry and shine
And the stars still laugh and shine and shine
from "Welcome to the Room...Sara", from Fleetwood Mac's Tango in the Night
Ooh, downstairs where the
Big old house is mine
Ooh, upstairs where the
Stars laugh and shine
Oh, Oh well I thought that
You were mine
Well I thought that
You were mine
The first two songs are from the same album, but the other two came years apart. Kinda cool. I think, anyway. I got all of the lyrics from The Nicks Fix, btw.
The reason I mentioned Stevie Nicks is that I was listening to some music last night before bed and was wishing I could write songs. Actually I was listening to The Judds. Other songwriters wrote most of their stuff as far as I know, but they did some great songs with really fantastic lyrics. In my life, I have been touched so much by song lyrics, and can really express my emotion much better through the lyrics of others than I can with my own words. I suppose I should try songwriting again. When I did it before, I was in high school, so the lyrics were sort of lame. But I'm a little older and wiser now, so maybe, just maybe I have a shot at not sucking at it this time around.
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
Kim Zolciak ruined my life.
I just heard Kim Zolciak (from one of those fucking Real Housewives shows) perform her song "Google Me" on Bravo..."LIVE"! That woman's face is busted, her weave is busted, and her voice is so busted I was ready to physically injure myself just to not have to listen to one more second of her "singing". And you know what? I just let Zolciak fucking win by using her damn name so many times. This blog entry may even show up in a fucking Google search of Kim Zolciak now. I am perpetuating this horrible cycle!
Oh, and Zolciak? You don't "click" keys, you idiot!
Oh, and Zolciak? You don't "click" keys, you idiot!
Friday, November 19, 2010
Cherilyn Sarkesian...yes bitches, I know her real name.
When you forget for a minute that Cher is about 83% plastic, she actually can look quite good, especially for her age. Check out this picture: http://dlisted.com/node/39706/images/spl228084_038.jpg Cher and her mother both look twenty years younger than they are. It's amazing. There are more pictures below as well, including a couple with Cher's son Chaz.
Cher has been getting some flack in the press lately for forgetting to call Chaz "him". I say, give the woman a break. Having a transgender child has to be complicated, famous or no. Cher had a daughter named Chastity for 40 years. You can't just immediately remember to say Chaz instead of Chastity and he instead of she after 40 years. She's still adjusting to the change. Plus, the woman's 64 for crying out loud. You can't expect her mind to cooperate all the time.
People should also give her a break because she's fucking Cher. If Cher came up to me and called me Fido and tried to pet me like a dog, I would let her. Because she's Cher.
Cher has been getting some flack in the press lately for forgetting to call Chaz "him". I say, give the woman a break. Having a transgender child has to be complicated, famous or no. Cher had a daughter named Chastity for 40 years. You can't just immediately remember to say Chaz instead of Chastity and he instead of she after 40 years. She's still adjusting to the change. Plus, the woman's 64 for crying out loud. You can't expect her mind to cooperate all the time.
People should also give her a break because she's fucking Cher. If Cher came up to me and called me Fido and tried to pet me like a dog, I would let her. Because she's Cher.
Monday, November 15, 2010
What now?
It would be nice if we could all live our lives the same way that a dog or a cat does: we eat, we sleep, we hump things, and eventually we die. We have no goals or ambitions, no fears (other than the natural fear of creatures that are larger than ourselves), and no plans. All we'd need is sustenance and occasional affection. We would never expect anything, or have hopes and dreams that could be shattered. We'd just exist, and be content with what we could get.
I've been trying to figure out my next step. I'm not getting any closer to the future I have pictured in my head, and I need to figure out which path will get me closer to that picture. I honestly don't know what I want to do. I've always seen myself in a creative career. I'm driven emotionally and have a flair for the abstract. If you had asked me ten years ago where I would be at 25, I would have said I'd be a film actress, or a novelist, or at the very least a mother. I'm not any of those things, nor is it likely that I will be. But if I can't be those things, is it that much to ask that I at least am in a career related to the things I'm interested in?
No one I ask for advice has anything optimistic to say about the options I've mentioned. It has been suggested that I get my MBA, but then I'd still be doing something I consider to be routine, a run-of-the-mill job. Am I giving myself and my creative abilities too much credit? Or do people just not see me as someone with enough drive to succeed in a highly competitive and objective market?
I've been trying to figure out my next step. I'm not getting any closer to the future I have pictured in my head, and I need to figure out which path will get me closer to that picture. I honestly don't know what I want to do. I've always seen myself in a creative career. I'm driven emotionally and have a flair for the abstract. If you had asked me ten years ago where I would be at 25, I would have said I'd be a film actress, or a novelist, or at the very least a mother. I'm not any of those things, nor is it likely that I will be. But if I can't be those things, is it that much to ask that I at least am in a career related to the things I'm interested in?
No one I ask for advice has anything optimistic to say about the options I've mentioned. It has been suggested that I get my MBA, but then I'd still be doing something I consider to be routine, a run-of-the-mill job. Am I giving myself and my creative abilities too much credit? Or do people just not see me as someone with enough drive to succeed in a highly competitive and objective market?
Thursday, November 4, 2010
weird dreams
Someone once told me that they would swear I do acid because of all of the bizarre dreams I have. Last night's may have been my strangest yet.
Last night I had this dream that I was apparently best friends with Will Truman and Grace Adler (from Will & Grace, obvs), because we all lived together. There was a blackmail plot involving the kidnapping of Mel Gibson, and it was up to me to find him. I was given this phone number and told that the person that would answer this call would be the one to give me the first clue to finding him. When I called, Barbara Eden answered. We talked for less than two minutes, but I got the information that I needed to take the next step to finding Mel. Unfortunately, she worked in a brothel, and the line I called was some sort of phone sex line. Will got really pissed at me because they charged $600 a minute for calling this line and I was running on his dime. So I apologized profusely and explained the kidnapping, but he still wasn't happy that I had to call this whorehouse in order to get my first clue.
I can understand the Will & Grace part. I've been watching that show a lot lately. But Barbara Eden in a brothel? And why in the name of all that is holy would I give a shit about finding Mel Gibson?
I sincerely apologize to Barbara Eden for dreaming that she was a prostitute.
Last night I had this dream that I was apparently best friends with Will Truman and Grace Adler (from Will & Grace, obvs), because we all lived together. There was a blackmail plot involving the kidnapping of Mel Gibson, and it was up to me to find him. I was given this phone number and told that the person that would answer this call would be the one to give me the first clue to finding him. When I called, Barbara Eden answered. We talked for less than two minutes, but I got the information that I needed to take the next step to finding Mel. Unfortunately, she worked in a brothel, and the line I called was some sort of phone sex line. Will got really pissed at me because they charged $600 a minute for calling this line and I was running on his dime. So I apologized profusely and explained the kidnapping, but he still wasn't happy that I had to call this whorehouse in order to get my first clue.
I can understand the Will & Grace part. I've been watching that show a lot lately. But Barbara Eden in a brothel? And why in the name of all that is holy would I give a shit about finding Mel Gibson?
I sincerely apologize to Barbara Eden for dreaming that she was a prostitute.
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