Can't we all just get along?

I hate it when someone is mad at me, but won't be honest about it. I think there's a way to be truthful about your feelings without hurting anyone else's. Maybe there's not. But more than anything, expressing what you're angry about will help clarify what that actually is. And then perhaps you'll realize that your frustration isn't with me, but with yourself. I wish this would happen, but I won't speak up about it. I'm a chicken and I don't like it when people are mad at me. Just know that this is real, this is honest. And I love you even if you don't hold the same opinion of me right now.

Who the heck is reading this?

I've received a lot of views this week. Not that I completely believe the numbers, but it is odd, considering I haven't read my own blog all week. And especially since there haven't been any/many comments. Whatever.

My head hurts and I'm drinking a beer before I go to work. I'm really frustrated with work lately, and I need to find a new job, but my priority has to be school right now since the semester is almost over. But the good news is, I am totally on top of everything today. I ran a lot of errands and I am as prepared as I can possibly be for my "close-up" on Friday morning. Woo-hoo??

I also washed my sheets, because the dog apparently has incontinence issues and has peed on my bed twice in the past month. No, that wasn't a fun sensation when I awoke this morning. So I'll be sleeping alone from now on. Which might be a nice change, who knows?

But I did not shoot the deputy.

This weekend I have to go to Nashville to turn myself in. It's not terrible, I apparently had a suspended license from failing to pay a parking ticket, and then I got a misdemeanor, blah, blah, blah. Supposedly if I show up on Friday morning and pay them a bunch of money, it won't go on my record. Of course, it does involve getting mugshots taken and getting fingerprinted, and I have to be honest, I'm about to hyperventilate right now thinking about it. Luckily (?) I have a friend who had this happen to her, so I'm not quite as stressed because she told me what to expect.

Anyway, the point is, on Saturday, I'm going to be ready to stick it to the man, and I want to go out and get supremely hammered. So, if anyone wants to go with, and by anyone, I mean anyone who lives near Nashville, let me know. Because if I have a shitty time, I may not be back to visit for a long while. (You assholes know you would miss me, stop rolling your eyes.)

Indecision pretty much sums it up.

I'm very pleased to see so many of my friends really getting into the presidential election. Although I personally am befuddled by modern politics, I definitely think that there needs to be a major change in our current government, and I like that people my age actually care about this shit. I don't only like it because I'm too confused and skeptical to figure out the candidates' intents for myself, but honestly, that's part of it. Maybe we're not just a lazy generation. I mean, I'm lazy, but I can only speak for myself. . .

The times they are a-changin'.

I am happy living in Knoxville for the first time ever. If that sounds like I've been miserable this whole time, you should know that's not the case. But it's a realization I came to recently, and although it's probably been slowly coming true, I just noticed that me being happy is finally complete. When my friends came in from Nashville last weekend, I was really glad to see them leave on Sunday. And it wasn't like it has been in the past, when I was tired and them leaving equaled me getting to rest. It was like they changed awhile ago, and now, so have I. And that's okay. We're all still friends, but a lot has happened in the past year to make us grow apart. I feel like they don't understand what I'm going through in terms of this stage of my life, but for the big stuff, the overall kinds of things, they can get those. That's good enough for me. So, all in all, it was good, things are on the up and up with most of the friendships I have. It isn't like we had a bad visit, but it really made some things clear, especially my own feelings. It's okay to change if you retain what made you good in the beginning. I think that's the case here, and that makes me sad for what's gone, but excited for what's next. So it's cool, I'm cool, we're cool. Yeah.

What are you supposed to be?

I've been practicing the funny Halloween costume for as long as I can remember. (Who else would dress up like a homeless person and make sure that it was really convincing?) Today when I stumbled upon the Vice Guide to Everything, I found that someone agrees with me. The rest of it was pretty funny / offensive, too.

"Sexy Halloween costumes are lame. They are supposed to signify the woman wearing it is a hot-to-trot sexpot, but the truth is always the opposite. It's like the girl who talks about giving head all the time and then you go home with her and it's like she's chewing on a Mars Bar. If you want to find the really "sexy" (how gross is that word?) girl, go find the one who blacked out her teeth to become Alfred E. Newman."

Not that I think I'm sexy, but I don't think Halloween should be an excuse to dress like a whore. That's called Tuesday.

I would like to play, too.

It's a bad idea to play Wii for the first time when you don't have any money except what goes to bills. I thought I should warn you guys.

She just thinks she's so damn smart.

I think I've started getting migraines. I'm not sure and I try not to diagnose myself anymore, because that is just so not helpful. But, my dad gets them and since he's passed on almost every negative aspect of his health to me already (depression, sleep problems, ADD, weak joints), I'm pretty sure that it's a possibility. So, I'm gonna do something crazy. . . go to the doctor. I know it sounds weird, but maybe I should listen to a guy who went to medical school and has experience treating medical conditions instead of looking up my symptoms on Wikipedia. (Not to mention that I already looked it up on Wikipedia and it said that coffee was both a trigger and a cure. It's hard to change my self-diagnostic hypochondriac ways, shut up.)

This is basically the best poem ever.

(This is a villanelle if you care or know what that is. If you want to know what it is, you can ask me.)

One Art by Elizabeth Bishop

The art of losing isn't hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.

Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.

I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.

Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan't have lied. It's evident
the art of losing's not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.

My unimportant two pence.

Maybe it's just because I know too many hipster boys, but all I've heard about lately is the new Radiohead album. Well, I've downloaded it, too, so I thought I'd weigh in, even though no one reads this, and even if they did, they wouldn't care. Also, I know shit about music, and am definitely not hip, so don't take what I write here as gospel, and don't assume that I at all know what I'm talking about.

First of all, how fucking smart are they to have it available as pay what you want? I mean, that really touched this tightwad's heart. And, if I loved it, I would pay the regular price for the discbox, and it's always a good thing to get paid twice. They get some money from people who aren't really fans, but they're also certain to get the full cost from the super-duper fans. It's a brilliant maneuver and hopefully, a lesson to the music industry who are always whining like little babies about how they don't make enough money.

But I digress. I've listened to In Rainbows twice, and I'm just not sure. I think that the opening song, is actually kind of weak. I mean, it's cool and all, just not really what I expected them to choose to set the tone for this long-awaited album. Bodysnatchers, hmm, this one is just really confusing. Once the instrumentation changes, (2 minutes into the track??) I really like it, I guess I just like half the song. . . Anyway, redemption comes with Nude. This song is fucking gorgeous, and reminds me of what I originally loved about Radiohead. Weird Fishes/Arpeggi I'm trying hard to like. (That sounds bad.) I don't even really dislike it, I guess I just think it's the reverse of the problem with Bodysnatchers. It gets weird about halfway through, and then I don't like the rest of it. All I Need is a good song, albeit somewhat boring. Faust Arp is a nice choice for a short, simple interlude, although a little complexity wouldn't hurt, but Reckoner is a pretty big deal to introduce, now that I think about it. And actually, since I'm listening to this album for the third time as I type this post, I kind of think that Reckoner is one of the best things I've heard in a while. And I like the last three songs, so I guess I actually do like this album. A lot. Also, I think I need to be high the next time I listen to it.

Basically, I think that Kid A is Radiohead's best album, and no matter how many times I listen to it, I am always surprised by how good it is. (Well, some days I like The Bends better, not gonna lie.) But the more I listen to In Rainbows, the better it is, so I think that although it wasn't the epiphanic experience that Kid A was, it is an impressive addition to the repertoire. Maybe the moral of the story is that the fans' expectations rise way too high when they have to wait a long time for a new record. So, yeah, get to it. With a little speed, s'il vous plait.

You look half-dead half the time.

I'm awake. It's sorta late. I'm avoiding typing up my Geology notes for a study guide by goofing around on the internets. I have a test on Friday. I have a paper due on Thursday. I have to give a presentation on Thursday. I have to finish reading The fucking Sound and the Fury by Thursday, too. Why do I do this to myself?

Oh, and I'm also thinking up anagrams of my name. Because that's obviously important. . .

Mercy mercy me.

I have a really bad headache. And for two days I have felt like a moron. There are just no intelligent thoughts in my brain. I'm getting a little stir-crazy here, and a little boy-crazy. Something needs to happen to fix that soon. I'm trying, and I type that with complete seriousness.

Today I read something by someone I know that kind of made me feel like I suck at life. But looking back, I don't really think that's true, I think instead that overachievers make me feel less than great. I know some amazingly smart and driven people. That's a good thing, but it can be pretty humbling when I look in the mirror. Maybe someone thinks of me as an overachiever. That's a comforting idea.

Also, the only bands I've wanted to listen to lately are Gorillaz, Beck, Radiohead, and Marvin Gaye. And no, I don't have the new Radiohead yet. And two of those aren't bands. I feel un-good. G'night.

I can have oodles of charm when I want to.

It's really scary to show up for life every day and give it all you've got and be a person you actually like. But it's pretty neat, too. And I'm pleased with the state of things. Just thought you should know.

Around the way girl.

Umm, that is one of my favorite rap songs, ever. Anywho. . .

Halloween is approaching and I don't have a costume yet. Even though I didn't get a chance to wear my "Your Mom" costume last year, the idea is already played out in my head, and I can't do that. In case you haven't heard about that one (or if you want to steal it), the idea was to wear a turtleneck / windbreaker outfit with white tennis shoes. Gold chain pendant on the outside of the turtleneck, poufy hair, heavy makeup. When people ask who I'm dressed up as, I reply, "your mom." Man, that was an awesome idea. Oh well. Year before that I was K-Fed (a full year before Andy-fuckin' Roddick btw). That was a sweet-ass costume too.

Right now I'm not feeling very creative. Amy Winehouse would be funny, but I'm not really thin enough for that. Hmmm, I'll have to think on this. In other, completely unimportant news, I took a midterm today. I'm pretty sure I made an A, not bragging, just truthful. In philosophy, we had a class debate on abortion which was as incredibly hellacious as it sounds. In another class, we discussed The Awakening, and if I have to read that again, I might have to drown myself. So, yeah, school is going great. Really friggin' great.

Quick question:

Do I come off as assertive, like I hope I do, or aggressive, as I'm afraid I do? Does it really matter? Do I even care? I need some help, I think.

"Lack of money is the root of all evil."

I found the quote above attributed to George Bernard Shaw. However, it is also attributed to Mark Twain (Samuel Clemens), so who the hell knows? I do think it is apropos to this entry, regardless of who said it. It's been awhile since I posted an entry. I haven't been feeling very prolific lately. The mindless crap on myspace does not count as an actual blog. Anyway, here we go. . .

My financial situation took a change for the worse yesterday. I am really bad with money. Honestly, MC Hammer is probably better at budgeting than me. Anyway, this has completely stressed me out. I don't spend very much money; I just don't know how to pay my bills. On time. And that's bad. Another problem is that I'm kinda lonely. I don't really have any friends here in Knoxville, except for my sister. I have acquaintances, but surface relationships are not what I'm after. I need some real human contact, and right now I have zilch. Everytime I say this, people (who live in Nashville) tell me to move back to Nashville. But that won't fix things. I'm out of college money (that's not related to the aforementioned financial sitch), and even if I get more money, it won't be enough to go to college there.

So, what do I want to do? Besides crawl into a hole and die? Pretty much my only option is to find a full-time job working for the university. That way, they pay for my tuition, I'll be making enough money to pay my new bills, and hopefully I will be smart enough to pay my old bills. On time. So that's the deal. I know that this is depressing, but damnit, I'm pretty fucking depressed right now.

This is really just for me.

I've been cooking lately, and I need to write down the recipes. If this interests you, feel free to read. If not, click away to your heart's content.

Sloppy Lentils
(adapted from here)
2 carrots, diced
2 stalks celery, diced
3 new potatoes, diced
1 onion, diced
2 cloves garlic, minced
2 tablespoons olive oil

2 cups veg. stock
14.5 oz. can diced tomatoes
6 oz. can tomato sauce
1 cup water
1 cup whole lentils, rinsed
1/2 cup basmati rice, rinsed

1 large handful spinach, chopped
1 tablespoon dried oregano
1 small handful parsley, chopped
2 tablespoons tamari
1 tablespoon hot sauce
1 teaspoon paprika

Saute top list of ingredients in large stock pot. Add next list in order. Boil. Then reduce heat to low and stir in the rest of ingredients. Simmer covered for an hour, stirring occasionally. If it looks too dry while cooking, add more water, 1/2 cup at a time. Taste for salt and pepper when finished. Eat as a stew or on a hamburger bun for authenticity's sake. Add ketchup to individual servings for a real sloppy joe taste.

Makes a shit-ton, so freeze most of it. Better the next day. Also, this would be less lentil-y with red lentils, but leave out the tomato sauce and water if using those.

Chicken Salad
shredded, cooked chicken breast meat
crisp apple (any type), diced finely
celery, diced finely
onion, diced finely
parsley, diced finely

mayonnaise
apple cider vinegar
pinch of salt, dash of pepper
dash hot sauce

Amounts are relative to the amount of chicken you start with. Toss together top list of ingredients. In a container mix second ingredient list. Stir everything together with a fork until all ingredients are well incorporated. Taste to see if it needs more salt or pepper.

Serve on a salad of spinach leaves dressed with a vinaigrette of apple cider vinegar, olive oil, s&p, and a tiny bit of dijon mustard.

Unravel the paper flowers 'til the colors look neat.

So, I quit smoking. Two, maybe three weeks ago, I'm not really sure. Not good at the whole "concept of time" thing. I really wish I could say that it was difficult, because that would mean I have awesome willpower, but it really wasn't hard at all. I don't crave cigarettes, I don't think about it, I don't really even care. I remember once, long ago, I bought a box of nicotine patches to help me quit. Umm, it didn't work because they made me sick. Like nausea, the shakes, et cet. Turns out I didn't smoke enough to require the use of patches, gum, and the like. Kind of sad actually. Plus, those things are expensive, shit.

Anyway, I guess the question is, why did I quit? Why now? My dad gives me disappointed looks every time he sees a pack in my car. He tells me that I'm going to die of cancer like my Uncle Steve. (Yeah, he really says that.) But that wasn't enough. I can deal with disappointing my parents, I've been doing so since I was about seven. Here's the proverbial straw that broke the camel's back: a kitten. See my sister's cat was never spayed, so when she snuck out, she got knocked up. She had FIVE kittens. Poor thing, she was gigantic. Anyway, I said I would take one of the boys. Two were going to her roommate, one to her other roommate, and one to a friend. So one went to Nashville with the friend. It died. I was so mad for awhile, I thought maybe they didn't take care of her, or something. Then we took the rest of the kittens for their first check-up. They have feline leukemia. I cried for about two days. Basically, it's like AIDS. It will eventually become active and will destroy their immune systems until they die from a disease they get because their immune systems can't fight it. If this innocent kitten can be born with something that will kill him, why am I purposefully increasing my own chances of dying? Anyway, it sounds way stupid now, but that's what it was. I'm going to keep Rocky (named after Balboa, because he's a fighter) until the virus becomes active. They can test him periodically, and I'll watch him for symptoms. He is an amazing little guy, and just so I don't end this on a completely depressing note, here are some gratuitous kitten pictures:

And I promise my next post won't be so dreary.

My milkshake brings all the boys to the yard.

To talk about their feelings. Instead of having lots of boys fall in love with me, I have lots of boys who fall in platonic love with me. I can't tell you how many guys have spilled their guts to me, telling me about their relationships, and how their girlfriends are crazy, and then they want to be bff with me. Uh, hi, I don't give a shit. From my experience, yeah, girls are pretty psycho. But the only reason that's not said as often about boys is because they're better at hiding it. For some reason, I tend to draw out the crazy in people of both sexes. I guess I'm an equal opportunity conversationalist. I know I'm a really awesome person, and I'm intelligent and sensitive, and I know that no one gets you like I do, but please, sometimes a girl's just tryin' to get some. I realize that I display a lot of typically male traits: common sense, directness, umm, I'm better at science and math than other subjects. But this doesn't mean that I'm your guy friend.

The fact is that the vast majority of my friends are women. And, trust me, they take full advantage of my available ear, too. Anyway, I suppose I'm complaining because I haven't had this problem in awhile. And now that it's cropped up again, I don't really know how to handle it. I guess, since I'm such an understanding person, I feel that I should receive some sort of compensation. So boys, if you want a bff who will listen to your girlfriend woes, you better make sure to get me drunk first. What's the name on your tab?

Giving birth is fun.

Ummm, I wouldn't know anything about that, but celebrating birth is fun. My birthday is one month away today. I think it's important to acknowledge the passage of time, whether it's by a round number rolling around on the odometer, or using candles to mark years of existence. I like my birthday. I don't plan things, and I don't build it up, because doing so would jinx me, I'm certain. But generally I think it's nice to think that I lasted one more year. And if I'm lucky enough to have friends who want to take part in festivities in my honor, that's really awesome. I'm feeling good about my 24th year. I really am.

And this is what I've learned about myself from my rising sign. It supposedly defines your personality better than your sun or moon. If you know me, you know, this shit is scary true:

Rising Sign is in 14 Degrees Scorpio
You tend to be quiet, reserved, secretive and, at times, quite difficult to understand. Others notice your deep emotions and feelings and wonder how to draw you out. Stubborn and tough, you fight for any position you believe in. You are very resourceful and formidable when you become angered or upset about something. You enjoy living life at the cutting edge -- for you life must be experienced intensely and totally. Quite courageous, you are willing to take calculated risks. Easily hurt by others, you often strike back with bitter sarcasm. Sensitive and curious, you are concerned with the deeper mysteries of human psychology. Once you have become interested in any subject, you pursue it with total fanaticism.

Not sure about that last sentence, fanatical, not really, but I will Google it. Is that like a lazy fanatic?