Friday, November 6, 2015

Alice Through The Looking Glass, first look!


Finally, the first trailer for Tim Burton's Alice in Wonderland sequel has been released and the film looks even more colorful and imaginative than the last. This time, Alice returns to Wonderland through way of a mirror and her main antagonist seems to be Time. Her mission: Rescue the Hatter.

I'm going to be honest here and that's likely going to put me in a minority - I'm not a terribly big fan of Tim Burton, especially his more modern works. Dark Shadows tanked, as far as I'm concerned. He produced Abraham Lincoln Vampire Hunter as well...please don't waste your time on that film, it made my brain bleed.

But I did enjoy Alice in Wonderland - a story about Alice's second adventure in Wonderland and her imposed quest to defeat the Red Queen. It was a whirlwind of visual whimsy and the costumes were fantastic. Let's not forget a stellar cast either.

So I'm definitely looking forward to checking out the sequel when it premiers in May. Anyone else?

Thursday, October 8, 2015

Artist Spotlight: Melanie Martinez


Melanie Martinez got her start when she auditioned for season 3 of The Voice with a rendition of Britney Spears' Toxic. Adam Levine snagged her up instantly and thus launched her career as a very wacky artist. She didn't win The Voice, but she has gone on to have a wonderful music career and I've been a fan since the beginning.

Her first single and music video release was for a creepy-cute song called Dollhouse, with some very dark implications about dysfunctional families.


Her second big hit was actually picked up just in time for American Horror Story's new circus-themed season and became the show's theme song for a short time. Here is Carousel:


There were a few more songs on her EP, but nothing spectacular until she released a full album. Cry Baby.



Her sound is very eclectic and kind of indie, in a kitschy way. She explores a lot of dark and personal topics with a sense of creepy whimsy and that's what I love about her. The heavy leanings towards a demented Lolita aesthetic don't hurt either.





What do you think? Love it or hate it? Tell me in the comments below! 

Monday, October 5, 2015

Halloween Tag!

I haven't officially been tagged for this, but it looks like so much fun so how I could resist. Besides, I haven't exactly been terribly active on this blog for a while and maybe this is just the jump-start that I need!



Questions

1. Favorite Halloween song?
Sarah's song from Hocus Pocus. It's so haunting and pretty. 

2. Witch or Vampire?
Witch, all the way. I find vampires to be quite cliche and as I actually practice witchcraft, I have a much stronger affinity for even the old-fashioned crone depiction. 

3. Favorite thing about Halloween?
It's cold! The branches are bare and twisting up like gnarled fingers to the cosmos. Houses are decorated, stores are decorated. Thrift stores have a ton of cheap decor and vintage clothing to snatch up. Drinking cider becomes infinitely more satisfying. Pumpkin beer! Wearing all black constantly doesn't earn you too many odd stares. Samhain! 

4. Halloween party or scary movie marathon?
Why not both? I love the idea of a spooky dinner party followed by some classic horror films like Dracula, The Bride of Frankenstein or The Mummy. 

5. Skeletons or Zombies?
Skeletons. I find the zombie trope to be a bit overdone these days, but walking and talking skeletons are great. Anyone ever read the Skulduggery Pleasant books? 

6. Favorite Halloween candy?
I don't really have a sweet tooth, but I can stomach some candy corn. I'd rather have soul cakes and pumpkin cider.

7. Favorite Halloween movie?
Hocus Pocus and Beetlejuice. The campier the better. Heck, let's throw in the Addam's Family while we're at it. 

8. Favorite Halloween costume?
Last year's Norse Goddess Hel. I'm hoping to top it this year as Bast. 

9. Favorite Halloween store?
Thrift stores, no lie! 

10. Jack-o-lanterns, yes or no?
Yes, of course. I'm really looking forward to carving one this year, since I haven't done it since I was a child. 

11. Bats or Black Cats?
Black cats. I even have one back home named Shadow.

12. Is Halloween your favorite holiday?
More or less, yeah. 

13. Pumpkin spice latte or hot chocolate?
Can I really choose? Hmm.....latte.


If you see this post and you haven't been tagged by anyone else yet, consider yourself marked. 

Saturday, October 3, 2015

I feel old now....

My current altar, simply decorated with ghosts and books and such.

On October 1st, I turned 28. I know, I know....I don't look it. Everyone tells me that, but I am starting to feel it. My joints ache more often than not and the dark circles under my eyes are more pronounced than they've ever been. But it's not all bad.

On Thursday morning, when I woke up, I kind of knew it was going to be a bad day. Most birthdays usually are, and this one was not too different. The boy had no money so even though we did venture out a bit and check out an antique mall and large thrift store, we couldn't afford anything and certainly weren't able to get food anywhere. It didn't help that he ranted at every driver that cut him off or maneuvered like an idiot on the road - I know he needs to get that stuff out of his system but his vocality of it still makes me uncomfortable.

I had to scrounge up whatever we could find in the fridge and make some food, and the evening might have been alright if he hadn't blown up at his dad about a simple question. In order to go cool off, he spent an hour out in the garage by himself and by that point I was already so miserable that I took a hot shower and crawled into bed. I just wanted the day to end so I could move on. 

He was still upset even after smoking, because he broke his piece and hadn't realized how long he left me alone in the bedroom, and trying to make it right he kept me up until 3 am to watch the old Buffy The Vampire Slayer movie. I pretended to be alright, even though I had a throbbing migraine and it took me hours to fall asleep afterwards.

Overall, I really AM just glad my birthday is over and I can forget the whole affair. His parents bought me a cake, even though I've expressed several times that I don't like cake, and so I'm trying to actually eat the damn thing so they don't feel bad. I'm sure once the boy gets paid he might try again to do something nice for my birthday, but I hope he just forgets about it and I can carry on with my stupid life now.

On a brighter note, let's look at a few of the cheap things I've acquired over the past month.

A skirt with a bicycle print from Goodwill, the original Buffy movie, two witchcraft books, and a free bag I scored at a garage sale. 

Wednesday, September 9, 2015

September Favorites~


Well it's not terribly cool here yet, but it is definitely starting to look a little bit like autumn now. The leaves in the backyard here are fluttering all over the place...

There's a gray tiger cat that's been hanging around lately too, we've taken to calling her Kisa, which I hear means cat in...Finnish? Anyways, it's cute and the name has definitely stuck.

I still have no job. Almost had a gig as a sub custodian for the school district but that fell through so now I'm back to square one and applying for stuff all over again. I just hope one of these establishments calls me back before too long...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Some of my favorite things this month:

Pita Chips - much healthier than regular potato chips and they work so well with lots of fun dips

Guacamole Hummus - I'm a fan of both avocado dips and flavored hummus, so this was a win-win in my book.

Pumpkin Candles - I still have one from last year that I'm keeping in the bathroom, but I'd love to acquire more. It's my favorite fall scent - I even baked a pumpkin pie recently!

Flannel - the Boy has a bunch of flannel shirts in his closet that fit me perfectly, so now that it's a bit cooler I might start 'borrowing' some of them to wear. He doesn't mind.

Ouija Boards - all thinks spooky really, but I love the idea of salvaging a bunch of these and using them as wall art.

Tea - I don't normally drink much tea during the summer, but in the autumn I'm rarely without a steaming cup. Anything from Earl Grey to Matcha, I love tea.

Wednesday, August 26, 2015

She Sums It Up Too Well



~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Autumn is creeping in and that should be making me ecstatic. I should be coveting all forms of soft black lace, oogling the black boots cropping up in shoe stores, and doing some early scouting of Halloween merch. But I'm not.

I feel like depression has such a hold on me these days that it's hard to care about anything like that anymore. When I wake up in the morning, my only concern with the nearing fall weather is that it's cold and I'm uncomfortable. So I dig for a cozy pair of sweats and the warmest shirt I have.

I don't feel pretty. I don't feel like me. And I don't feel like trying.

Certainly, I used to be better than this. But when my life has fallen apart so completely that I can't see any way of putting it back together, I don't have the energy to even care about how limp my natural toned hair is or where my velvet skirt is. I've even given up on waiting for the phone call I was supposed to get about a job offer today....because I don't think it's coming.

I don't read anymore. I used to go through a book a week, at least. I used to watch ghost hunting shows like a loon. I used to have vampire movie marathons. I used to write constantly and I always had new ideas for novels or short stories.

These days, I just feel drained. And I can't be myself like that.

I don't know what to do anymore.

Sunday, July 26, 2015

I am angry. I think.

To be completely honest, I don't really know what I feel anymore. I've been on such an unpleasant game-of-life roller coaster that I'm all kinds of messed up these days. For the hell of it, I looked at my blog to see the last thing I had posted and was kind of surprised that the only update here is when I finally repainted my (old) room and got it decorated.

I don't live there anymore.

I wasn't kicked out, per se, but I think we were coming up on that point and so I had to get out. I lost my Walmart job in the bakery quite a while back now and ended up living out of a bag of clothes at my boyfriend's family home. That's actually where I still am. It's either here or on the streets right now and it's gotten to a point where I'm not sure which would be more tolerable.

You see, it's chaos in this household. His parents are getting a divorce soon and so are scrambling to get their house up to code and on the market. His sister is back home from North Dakota and dealing with mental problems of her own, on top of a weed habit. And the boy himself, I'm discovering all sorts of unpleasantness....

But that's neither here nor there.

Point is, I'm still alive and that could have gone down differently so very easily. Sometimes I'm a bit amazed at just how blithely I cheat death...

So here I am, sitting in the basement of a house in Chaska, MN, and contemplating job options and future apartments, because it's clear that living in this place isn't working for me. I'm nearly starving, because we're eating and living on one minimum wage, part-time income. I'm stressed out because I have no way of getting anywhere and I'm incredibly unfamiliar with this town/area. I feel isolated because I have no friends and no one's ever here....

And I've developed a rather unhealthy drinking problem.

So I may still be alive, but things aren't looking that great for me. Unless I find solid full-time employment soon and traipse out of here into an apartment I could be looking at more problems.

I want to say I'm sorry to dump all this here, but I'm not. This is my blog and I can post whatever I like. So....that's that. I guess.

Tuesday, June 23, 2015

Bedroom Update!



Hey, everyone. Remember when my walls were this really cool purple color with black trim? Yeah...that's gone now.


I decided after I moved home from my uncle's place that I needed to revamp my bedroom somehow. The purple color had been hanging around for a long time and kind of reminded me of an era and version of myself I needed to move past, so naturally it was time for a new wall color. A week ago, I dug out a can of primer and set to covering up the purple. It was a tedious process and dark shades don't like to be covered easily.


My walls are now an antique white color. I know, I know...white? But! It's a neutral color scheme to work with now. I no longer feel confined to something that blends with purple. I can do anything I want with my bedroom's overall theme and style with white walls. Plus, all the more incentive to put up some cool wall decor!



I definitely have a few pieces I need to hang up yet and I will take more photos when that happens. I'm just really glad I finally got my walls sorted out.


Sunday, June 21, 2015

When your father has defected....

Those of us without fathers on this Father's Day occasion are often forced to reflect on the whereabouts of our absent parental figure - usually because a typical individual will assume that everyone has a loving and doting dad to celebrate, often when that is furthest from the case.

I don't have a dad.

I suppose I did once, there was certainly a male that contributed to my creation those 27 years ago, but I don't have a dad now. I grew up in a single parent household and looking back, I'm not sure I would have wanted it any other way. It was hard for Mom to make ends meet majority of the time, but she did the best she could for us to make sure we never went hungry and always knew that we were loved.

If, for some highly improbable reason, our dad had stuck around we would have been subjected to a substantial amount of his drinking, drugs, and overall absenteeism. I have never heard even one good story about him, from anyone really, so I truly believe I am better off not knowing him at all.

As for other father figures in my life - a few guys have tried but they all seemed to fail pretty spectacularly. We lived with one of my mom's long-term boyfriends for a few years, but I always kind of thought he was a weirdo and he never really understood me or my brother at all. He didn't even have a working relationship with HIS kids, how could he begin to kindle one with us? My uncle tried to be a supportive figure, but in our childhood he was in the military or out of state, so we rarely saw him. And barely a month ago, he really let me down and we no longer speak.

As for my grandfather, he's a sexist and racist pig and we don't really converse. It's better that way.

My boyfriend has a really spectacular father, I think. I'm not jealous or envious really, but it's certainly interesting to watch them interact. Maybe they take each other for granted a bit, but the boy still has a really supportive parental set and I really hope they do something nice for his dad tonight.

If you, dear reader, have a loving father please make sure he knows how much you appreciate him and not just one designated day out of the year. For those of us without fathers or on bad terms with ours, today is just another day and soon enough people will stop pestering you about it....

Thursday, June 18, 2015

According to the Code...



Walmart has changed its dress code quite a bit over the past few years, but one thing that I am glad about is the return of the vest. This allows you to wear a shirt or blouse of your own choosing and not a standard issue navy blue polo. I hate polo shirts with a passion...

You also have the option of black or tan pants/skirt (no jeans though) and as long as the shoes are closed-toe and not sandals anything really goes.

So after work today, I shucked my eyelet white blouse and tan linen pants for a quick trip to the thrift store. And here's how you add a bit of personal flair to an otherwise standard issue uniform:

Tops-




Is it white (or navy blue?) Does it have sleeves and a collar? Good, it's Walmart approved! I wouldn't recommend swishy bell sleeves for stocking positions or working around food though...

Bottoms-



I'm not going to wax poetic about the "urban" appeal of baggy khakis because a good pair of black slacks is obviously superior in a work setting. Avoid denim, anything with rips, tears, or crazy straps. But a cool pair of wide leg dress pants or a slim fitting pair embellished with zippers is perfectly acceptable.



As for skirts, length is probably the most important here. Wear something long enough to be considered work appropriate but not so long it's gonna get hung up on stuff or trip you. You don't want your work wardrobe to be a hazard to your safety.

I like the universal appeal of fit-n-flare skirts, but you can't go wrong with a nice pencil skirt either.

Shoes-





Here's where you can break out the more "colorful" aspects of your personality. As long as the shoe is closed toe and closed heel, doesn't resemble a pair of slippers or stripper heels, give it a go. A cute and colorful pair of flats is a nice way to set off an otherwise monotone look. I would advise you to avoid any boots with a significant heel as you might not find that comfortable to wander up and down aisles in, but a biker boot style with studs is perfectly kosher to me!

In Summary:

Follow the dress code to the best of your ability, but don't forget to let a little bit of you shine through it. Job or not, feeling like yourself will always help you perform to the best of your ability and feel confident being who you are.

all photos nabbed via Google Images. Credits go to respective sites and sources.

Sunday, June 14, 2015

Death By Capitalism

I start my new job tomorrow, a pitiful little stint in the Walmart bakery.

And I've been thinking about this for a while now and just sort of stewing in it because I don't quite know how to talk about it without sounding like a whiny bitch, so here it is:

I don't want to work.

I don't want to settle with some 8 hr job that pays minimum wage (or slightly above) for the rest of my life, dealing with people I don't like (and I hate most people...) and never having any free time or energy to enjoy myself.

I want to write. I want to wake up at any fucking hour I please, make a pot of coffee and sit in front on my Chromebook while clicking away at keys and adding pages upon pages to a new book or story. I don't want to talk to anyone, I don't want any interruptions, and I don't want to go outside. I literally want to hole up somewhere peaceful and do nothing by write.

Maybe when I get stuck, I'll venture out into the real world and observe people for a while. Get some fresh ideas for the book. Then go back to my little hermit world and dive back into writing.

Unfortunately, we live in a world where you have to sell your labor (for cheap!) to get by in life. You have to suck it up, being miserable for a majority of your day, then go home and interact with people when you just wanna be somewhere quiet and alone. Then you go to sleep and do it all over again the next day and for what?

For a paycheck? To buy a house or a car you can't even enjoy? To landscape the backyard you'll never really see or enjoy? To buy a cat or dog you don't have any time for? To pay off student loans for a degree being wasted?

It all feels so fucking pointless and that's putting aside my major anxiety/depression issues.

I wonder, if I checked myself into a mental institution and became a lifer...would they let me write?

Saturday, May 30, 2015

Short Story Time: Smoke

She trailed him out of the house and down the few steps to the back door of the garage. It was a bit chilly now that the sun had gone down and she pulled her hoodie a little tighter around her. Was this really a good idea? Maybe she should have simply insisted on waiting inside the house, where it was safe and warm, but he’d asked her to come with so nicely. And so she had followed him out to the garage and waited patiently while he prepared a smoking apparatus. Weed had always had a foul smell to her and while she didn’t mind people using it, she’d rather not be around when it happened.

And yet, here she was.

But he’d been understanding, in his own way, of her discomfort. He’d changed shirts just for smoking and slipped a jacket on, all things that would be removed again once he was finished. And he sat a fair distance away from her, on the stairs. She had crouched down on the concrete walkway, an attempt to keep warm. Even her hood had been pulled up, obscuring her face.

The radio was on in the garage, spilling out the deadpan warbling of an artist he’d told her about earlier. She smiled, he was always so keen on telling her about artists he’d discovered that he believed she might like. He’d yet to really hit the mark, but she didn’t mind that. Music was his thing and he did his best to share that passion with her.

He did a lot for her, now that she thought about it. Just two nights ago, he’d rescued her in the midst of a panic attack and carted her away from her life. A reprieve from the real world, so she could get her head screwed back on. He didn’t need to go out of his way at midnight just for her, drive all that way just to save her. But he had. And she was grateful.

So even if he was sitting outside, on the back stoop, exhaling a cloud of pot smoke and gazing at her in the most peculiar way, she couldn’t even find it in her to be a little bit irritated. She loved him, after all. And as long as he was considerate of her feelings about stuff, he could do whatever the hell he wanted.

So after getting mildly high, they returned to the house. True to his word, he ditched the now befouled clothing and slipped back into his original t-shirt. And when she buried her nose against his shoulder, all she could smell was him.

Tuesday, May 26, 2015

The Charlie Charlie Challenge


If you spend any amount of time on the internet, you've probably heard of the "Charlie Charlie Challenge" - a Ouija board/spirit writing inspired game in which you supposedly summon a Mexican demon named Charlie (really, guys? Charlie?) whom you can ask yes or no questions and Charlie is supposed to move the pencil to the correct answer.

So what IS the origin of this newly popular phenomenon. Well, according to Spanish internet users, the modern take on this "game" actually merges two different activities - Juego de la Lapicera, which has always had a supernatural bent and is sometimes referred to as the poor man's ouija board; and Charlie Charlie, a creepy school yard game played with colored pencils. How the two merged into this one Tumblr-frenzied experience is hard to pin down, but speculation has it that this became popular after a news station in the Dominican Republic aired an alarming broadcast about this "Satanic" game being played in schools.

It took one English speaking blogger to play the game and put it up as a Vine.

So who is Charlie exactly? No one's really sure - it could be the victim of a suicide, a child who died in a car accident, or even a Mexican deity convening with the Christian devil - the latter is obviously untrue, but there's no doubt it makes for a scarier time believing you've got a demon telling you whether or not you'll go to prom with your crush or die in seven days.

Wanna play? It's real simple:

You take a piece of paper and draw an X to divide it into quadrants. You write YES in two of them and NO in the others. Then you lay two pencils, one of top of the other, over the dividing lines. Then it's a matter of simply asking: "Charlie, Charlie, are you there?" If you get a response (like the pencil rolling toward one word or another), go ahead and start asking some simple questions for Charlie to answer. But be warned, the whole of the internet is convinced that if you don't say "Charlie Charlie, can we stop?" and bid the affair goodbye, you've effectively kept open a demon portal and all sorts of nasty things will happen to you....

Sound familiar?

But just like Bloody Mary and the Ouija board, the Charlie Charlie game has been around for a very long time and has only now crossed cultural and language borders to become the new teen phenomenon in the English speaking quadrant. (See what I did there?)

Saturday, May 16, 2015

I've been giving this some thought...

And I think I need to move home.

Like, back to my hometown, in with my mom and brother again.

And I really have been thinking about this. Living with my uncle has proven to be kind of toxic for me. But at the same time, I've figured out what my comfort levels are concerning a variety of aspects.

1. I cannot tolerate a smoking household. Just, no. It fucks with my respiratory system, it messes with my allergies, and I can't stand the smell. However, this IS my uncle's house and he's allowed to do what he wants in it. Just as I'm allowed to move out at my leisure.

2. I DO NOT like being pressured to do stuff I'm not comfortable with. Driving, for one. Being forced to make all these phone calls and talk to all these people with absolutely NO REGARD for my mental state at any given point - he KNOWS I have anxiety issues and just fucking blows them off all the time. That's not cool.

3. I literally just started this new job. $12 an hour at the rail yard in St. Paul. But I already know that while I can withstand the long hours outside, on my feet, in all kinds of adverse weather while dealing with really grumpy and impatient drivers...that's not gonna work out long. For a few weeks, maybe, but not long term. Not more than a month or two. One week in and I'm so burnt out that this morning I wanted to die.

4. Walmart back home is hiring for a variety of positions, including the night shift. I'm a night owl - I don't DO mornings. And having to get up at 4 am every day and ride in with my uncle to work is just not doing me any good. I NEED to acknowledge this and do something about it. If I can't do early mornings, then I just can't do them. It's not good for my mental or physical health to force it, right?

5. My uncle promised me a safe haven where he would look after me and do what he could for me. But as soon as I have a need or problem that he doesn't agree with, that part of the deal shuts down and I feel isolated, trapped, and abused. As soon as anxiety hits and he doesn't understand that I can't do anything about it - I have to face exasperation and anger for it.

6. Mom deals with a lot of the same stuff I do, so she gets it. She gets me. I do realize now that moving out was a premature decision. And it didn't help that everyone I knew was telling me how great it was to get closer to the cities and better jobs and ....blah blah blah. I'm a small town girl. I prefer nature to people. I miss my cat and my old room and the atmosphere of the house....

There are some stipulations for moving back home though - I need to have a job and contribute to bills. This is fine. Hell, I can work more than one job if need be.....and I'll have a comforting space to work on my book, sew up some cute things to sell here and there, and never again look at a fucking hard hat or safety vest. I'll be in a smoke-free home once more, with people who stay up late like I do, and access to food items I am familiar with and eat regularly.

My mom's a lot nicer to my boyfriend too....

Monday, May 4, 2015

A summer-styled update!

A few weeks ago, our inflatable hot tub arrived on the front step. A few days prior though, we declared a space on the deck for it and set to work laying down some outdoor carpeting and creating a pad to lay it on.

Thursday, April 30, 2015

Within the Circuit of This Plodding Life ~ Henry David Thoreau


"I love you," he says one night while we're snuggled on up the couch. And I freeze. Are you sure? I ask him. Why do you think so? I ask...

I suppose the simple answer is that he simply does. That you can't always control how you feel about people and sometimes these things just happen. You wake up one morning and realize you love this person and you want to be with them for as long as you can, however you can. 

I don't quite know how HE came to his little realization, but I dived headfirst in blatant denial. How could I possibly love anyone right now? I'm still fractured and healing from past relationship hurts. I have all this personal mental health drama going on. Excuses, really. 

Because I do love him. How could I not? He's perfect for me and I've never, EVER, had anything so good before. I don't want to much that up.

Sunday, April 19, 2015

Short Story Time: 8:09 am

It’s early when I wake, the filtered sun seeping past the blinds and the spritely chirping of birds tells me so. Ever so carefully, I lift my head to glance past him and see the time. 8:09 am. Early indeed.

I shift a little beneath the covers, and my leg slides just a bit against his, but it’s enough. He takes a deep breath, and rolls towards me, hands reaching.  He’s still asleep, but just barely. And in that hesitant slumber, he wraps himself around me. It always happens like this - and it doesn't matter if I’m rolling over in bed to find the cold side of the pillow or trying to extricate myself to use the bathroom - as soon as I move, he’s reaching for me. I sometimes wonder if he’s afraid that he’ll wake up to discover I’m not there. Or not real. And subconsciously he clings to me to constantly be assured that I’m there with him.

And then I wonder, is that somehow my fault? Am I too distant, too cold, too aloof? Do I give off the impression that I could disappear at any time and abandon him? That idea makes something in my chest feel tight.

So even though it’s 8:11 am and I’m wide awake, I let him slip an arm around my waist. Because I’m still there. And as soon as he realizes this, the wrinkle in his brow softens and his breathing evens out. I watch him sleep for a bit - taking in long eyelashes, the curve of his nose, the rise and fall of his chest.

How distant can I be, with our skin pressed together? How cold, when we share our heat beneath the blanket? How aloof, when he catches me coyly peering at him from under half-closed eyes? I am definitely there.

And even though it’s early, and the sun’s up and the birds are chirping and things are happening out there in the world, there isn't anywhere else I’d rather be.

Monday, April 13, 2015

This is where I live. This is also a photo dump. :)


No, no, this is a photo of dinner, one night. Yeah, be jealous. I eat good when I actually good.

Thursday, April 9, 2015

Eros Ephemeros ~ Kenneth Rand

My life, overall, is still in a state of flux - but at least I no longer need agonize over my love life. That seems remarkably stable now.



A few weeks back I posted this self-indulgent little piece about my confusion regarding this boy. Tyler. I'm not sure if I was just feeling more insecure than usual but there was really no reason at all to doubt his feelings for me. I mean, the boy is pretty hopelessly enamored.

I think I'm ready to tell the full, undisclosed story of how he and I came to be:

About a week before Thanksgiving, last November, I broke up with my old boyfriend. He was an emotionally abusive twat with absolutely no aspirations in life and frankly, I deserved better. I told myself that it would be good to remain single for a while and figure out who I was on my own terms, unattached. You know?

So what do I do? I go ahead and make an OkCupid dating profile. I wasn't really expecting to find anything, I think it was just my way of cementing the end of the old relationship. I never flirted, or even really looked at other dudes, while with my ex and the possibility of engaging in something fun and risky felt like moving on. Felt like freedom, that I could go ahead and look, do what I wanted.

I did end up chatting with a few local guys, both of which I'd gone to high school with but there was no real spark or connection with either of them and so nothing came of it. And then along came this fellow, under the username of "WaffleVision". He actually sent me an entire wall of text, basically responding to and commiserating with the incredibly honest content I had on my profile, ending it with a request for a game of text wall racquet ball.



Which I readily engaged in. We sent long messages back and forth, detailing our struggles with anxiety, dating, holiday blues, job misery, etc. I really came to look forward to getting a new message from him.

Eventually we added each other on Facebook and Tyler became a real entity with real-time chat opportunities. And that was fun. Until he disappeared. I didn't hear from him for a solid two weeks. I wanted to chalk it up to holiday business, what with Christmas being a thing at the time, but I kind of suspected it was something a little more....unfortunate.

And then I began to worry - would I ever hear from him again? Was he okay?

The holidays were a dark time for me, and I wasn't exactly feeling all that stable - even going so far as to engage in a bit of bloody self-harm (shhhhh, Mom doesn't know about that!) I couldn't help but think it would have been nice to have him around for moral support...

He reappeared shortly after Christmas and it turns out he'd had a stint in a hospital for "psychiatric" reasons. He was diagnosed with bipolar disorder and slapped on some medications, but he was out.



And we started talking again. I noticed the difference right away. His phrasing and manner of speech seemed less cryptic, everything was a lot more straight-forward and that was awesome. Less conflict and less confusion.

We finally agreed to meet in person, on January 9th. It was a Friday and I trudged over to Target's Starbucks in the snow and the cold. He was...a lot different in person. Well maybe not a lot, but that added dimension of voice and body and presence was a bit overwhelming. Still...it was good. Wanna read about that encounter: click here! 



We met up again the next Friday, which I've detailed in this post right here. And for our third "date" where I hung out in his basement with a group of ragtag musicians, you can find here. Looking back, I'm actually pretty glad I parsed all this out.

I think the turning point was the weekend at the end of February, that Saturday. It was Tyler's birthday and we hung out in the cities. I'll link you to that one too. That was the first time I let him hold my hand. The first time we snuggled up under the blankets together. The first time we kissed - all in all I'd say he had a pretty rockin' birthday.



It's April now. He comes up here to my uncle's place to see me almost every Tuesday. Permission granted, he sometimes even spends the night, and we stay awake 'til the wee hours making out (among other things.) I've reasserted my need for space when I sleep so cohabiting my tiny single bed doesn't work so well, but I still love cuddling up to him at night.

And yesterday, as we were chatting about exes and overused phrases (like how saying "I love you" twenty times a day to someone loses its meaning real fast) it kind of slipped out of him. That he loves me. I didn't know how to respond. I guess he didn't expect me to, really, which is great. I think he and I are both of the variety that doesn't need to say it to make it felt or known. But still....it just seemed kind of sudden to me. Even though it reaffirms EVERYTHING people have been telling me about him being head over heels.



I suppose I do love him, too. I'm not sure I'm 'in love' with him, though. That feels different, somehow. But Tyler is important to me, and I really do like having him in my life. So I guess I love him. And I guess we're a thing now.

Whew....it felt kind of good to get that all out in one long post. TL;DR I have a boyfriend now, I think. 


Wednesday, April 8, 2015

The Intuitive Tag

Snagged this from The Midnight Ballroom, who found it via another excellent blog and figured I would give it my two cents. :)

Monday, April 6, 2015

I Stole the Liebster Award!


Here be the rules:

1. Post the award on your blog.
2. Thank the blogger (thanks Amy!) who presented this award and link to their blog.
3. Write 11 random facts about yourself.
4. Nominate 11 bloggers who you feel deserve the aware and have fewer than 200 followers.
5. Answer 11 questions posted by the presenter and ask YOUR nominees 11 questions.

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Monday, March 23, 2015

It's supposed to be spring...damnit!



It snowed again here last night.

What is this shit, it's supposed to be spring now. I want warmer weather and (good gods) sunshine. I want to be able to go outside and enjoy the smell of the wakening earth and hear the birds twitter at each other.

So to inspire feelings of a spooky spring, have some photos of delightfully gothic flowers. Wouldn't these be fun to have in a garden?





Saturday, March 21, 2015

I Rose Up At The Dawn of Day - william blake

Today was moving day, the finale. Since the bed frame and dresser were ready and waiting, it was simply time for me to pack up the rest of my belongings and finally make the last, long-awaited haul. So now I'm blogging this from my new bedroom, in my new residence, in a new town, and lemme tell ya - I'm kind of freaking out a bit. I don't like transition.

But I have pictures!

Sunday, March 15, 2015

I Choose The Mountain - howard simon

I had a rather productive day and I feel really good about what I've accomplished, so let me relate it all to you here, in this semi-personal space of mine.

Last night around 8 pm, my uncle showed up to help me start hauling some of my stuff up to his place, because I'm moving into his spare bedroom for the next year in order to find better work opportunities, save money, and eventually haul ass to the west coast. That was a long sentence, moving on....we loaded up my stuff, stopped at Walmart on the way to buy a dresser, and spent the better part of the night assembling the damn thing.

Pro tip: drunk carpentry is the best kind of carpentry.

This morning, we drove to Wisconsin (it was about an hour from my uncle's place) to go pick up a bed frame he found on Craigslist. The guy selling it had dropped the price down an extra $20, so who could resist. We took the trailer on the back of the truck and OFF we went.

The frame actually fit perfectly on the trailer.

Unfortunately, we had to disassemble the entire thing in order to fit it down the hallway and into the bedroom. But now I have a bed frame, a dresser, and a few articles of clothing stowed away in my new room - I'm one step closer to actually becoming a resident of that location. It feels good...I need to get out of my hometown.

Next weekend, I'm gonna bring one of my mattresses, more clothes, and my bike to his place. Then the job hunt will really begin. Wish me luck!

For now, I'm going to bed. It's late. :)

Wednesday, March 11, 2015

Short Story Time: In a Suitcase

Her entire life had been packed into one giant square suitcase - a green and floral monstrosity on wheels. In it were an assortment of undergarments, an extra pair of shoes, her favorite articles of clothing and something nice enough to pass for interview attire. There were a few books as well, and some cds for when the silence would become unbearable.

She stood in line, clad in dark jeans and boots. Her hair had been piled into a sloppy bun on top of her head and earbuds dangled along the front of her hooded cardigan. The suitcase sat peacefully next to her.

The bus was boarding now and she checked her ticket once more, destination Seattle. The weather outside the depot reminded her of Washington - it was gloomy and rainy. Instead of unsettling her, she was excited. It was the kind of forecast she adored most, rainy with a chance of adventure. And that’s what this was after all, an adventure.

In just twenty minutes, she’d be seated comfortably near the rear of the coach bus as it left the city (and her old life) behind.

Only one thing was missing.

Her traveling companion was a no-show. She suspected as much really, the boy had talked a big show about leaving behind a system that just wasn’t working for him, about finding freedom, about going on a grand exploratory trip with her - but she knew it for what is was. Talk. When it came down to the wire, most people just didn’t have it in them to up and quit on everything they knew. She didn’t begrudge him for it, either.

This just wasn’t her first merry-go-round. She’d made a new start in a similar fashion before, she could do it again. It was always alone though - that was the kicker. And here she was so looking forward to having company this time.

The line grew smaller and she nudged her suitcase another foot forward, keeping her eyes open for that one familiar face. No luck.

With a sigh, she handed over her ticket to be inspected. Stuffing it back in her pocket, her fingers firmly wrapped around the plastic handle of her luggage and tugged it along. It was stowed away under the bus with the cargo of other passengers - those visiting family or friends out of state, going back and forth to university, seeing the sights, etc.

She boarded, and each step up into the coach pulled more of her hope away until with resignation she flopped into a seat near the back and dropped her handbag next to her. This was it, she was going it alone once more. She’d be fine, that’s just how it worked.

A flash of movement caught her eye, someone was booking it. There was always one or two latecomers to the party, so she sat back and closed her eyes. Soon enough, and then the wheels would turn and she could just...let...it...go…move on.

“So, uh,” the stilted words rolled out in a deep timbre and she dared not open her eyes. “This seat taken?”

He was there. That flash of human desperation outside had been him, and now he stood in the aisle - out of breath and eyes bright - waiting for her response.

“Yeah,” she pulled her purse into her lap. “It is now.”

He settled in next to her, grinning like a fool and she couldn’t help the smile that tried its hardest to tug at her own lips.

“So, are you ready for this?”

“Are you?”

He shrugged. “You know, I had some doubts, but I think I am. If not now...when?”

The coach lurched into motion and she smirked outright. “Last chance to change your mind. I’m sure he’d let you off.”

His long, calloused fingers found hers and he squeezed. “No, I’m good.”

Her whole life had been packed into one giant square suitcase, but the most integral piece of it was trying to appear casually reclined in the seat next to her. She probably wouldn’t read any of the books or need any of those cds. This was it.

Tuesday, March 10, 2015

A Care Package Arrives~!

From time to time I receive the most lovely care packages from Eva in Montreal. Often these parcels include the most wonderful tea flavors and sometimes I find other goodies, much like in today's package.

Because it was a balmy 65 degrees F here in Minnesota today, I took a stroll down the street to go and retrieve the mail. I'm not-so-patiently waiting on a wig from Bodyline to arrive (does delivery from Japan ALWAYS a take month?) but this was an even lovelier surprise.





Oh my, what do we have here? A variety of mysteriously wrapped items....



Two packages of St. Hubert poutine mix, a fantastic novel, some jasmine tea, nail varnish of the sparkly variety and some mini fizzy bath stuffs. I really couldn't have asked for a better set of goods, thank you so much Eva!






And look at all these custom labels she created for each item? Aren't they so cute!? I almost didn't want to unwrap anything because it all looked so pretty. Best start to spring ever!