Ideally...

I would normally try to make an excuse here of how busy I am as a why I have not updated in many weeks.

But I'm not really that busy. I actually have Monday's, Thursday's, and Saturday's off, in which I should probably be writing and sending off papers to my individual study I'm taking, but, instead, I replay old video games I haven't had the chance to beat for some time, watch an old video, sleep... The things I used to do every day when I was a teen.

Ah, to be a teen again. I find it humorous that so long ago, I thought I knew the world, and now that I realize I didn't, I now feel that I know the world. A lesson learned is to be learned over and over again.

But enough about those silly things. I've hashed those principles over and over again, and the only thing they lead me to doing is to enjoy the now and prepare only slightly for the future (because, we all need to be flexible, non?).

But it's that flexibility matter. Throughout my entire life, it will always be. Never mind the need to stretch your muscles, but mind the flexibility of our minds and morals. Of what we choose is correct, and what is not.

Sometimes, I feel like I'm making a list inside of my head in what I feel is okay for me, and for others, to do. I could come up with these graphs, put them on display within my perimeter, allow people to read them before deciding to approach me. Or not to.

I feel at the moment that this would waste less time in my future. Perhaps speed dating isn't all that bad of an idea, if one thinks about having to place everything on the table. Two minutes to interest someone, or get out.

But then, that's just depressing, isn't it?

Instead, we flounder ourselves about, filling out applications via body language and spoken word, hoping and wishing for what we want most out of life. This could be a lover, a friend, to be left alone, to laugh, to smile, or even to kill (in those bad cases).

I've often looked down upon those who put on a facade. Why pretend something you could care less about? But then, there are rules to these unknown games people play daily.

Many of these things can be chalked up to just being polite. For instance: Don't like someone? Don't talk to them. Unless, of course, they talk to you, in which case, be polite, but not too short, because then they'll know something is up. Just as being bored in a conversation--try to listen, but fade out a little to think of something you'd rather be talking about or doing; then, when they seem to be asking you a question, don't bother telling them they weren't interesting enough to keep your attention, but have a non-committed noise come from your mouth, such as "Uh-huh," or "Oh," and possibly "Perhaps," which just indicates that you have your own opinion on the matter, but it's too complicated to really get into at the moment.

That's the blessing of friends, I suppose. Whereas everyone else in the world judges you by a simple look, a friend (a real friend, mind you), is one that only judges at rare times, and does everything else without a question. Yes, they may laugh when you don't want them to, but, in the end, all that matters is that they're still there. A true friend is one that will help hide the body.

I sometimes wonder about my commitment toward these things. Amber, who is more busy than I am, has managed to see me and come bearing gifts (which, by the way, couldn't have held much more of the spirit of who I am--a crocheted blanket, my very own teapot, and The Prince of Dreams, all about Neil Gaiman? I'm so pleased, I could hug you forever!).

I sometimes feel as if I find myself only to lose it as I continue to question my way of living. As I become older, I realize things I wish weren't true. Like giving up certain hobbies because I suddenly only have time for some. Or that you have to do many things you don't like in order to get where you want to be in life, such as a shitty job, or giving up one goal to achieve another.

You can't always get what you want.

Random Fact; But if you try sometimes, you just might find, you get what you need.

Possible Satan Spawn

Anyone who thinks that Poison Sumac is an act of God, THEY'RE WRONG.

I have summer after summer of proof of this.

Between the tea tree oil, the Ivarest, the having it on your hands and arms and face to make one look like a mid-transformed dragon, and also making usual tasks a difficult feat, I can safely say that this creation was not God. God would never want this suffering upon someone.

I have been thankful that this case of sumac (or ivy, or oak... who the hell cares, it's THERE) hasn't been exactly itchy. The scale is on a low 1-2. However, on the annoying scale, it has received a high 15, over the thought highest peak of 10.

This morning, just as I was about to do a dance because I noticed my face has been becoming normal, I took notice that my hand was worse, and that I had an addition to that arm. My other arm wasn't looking any different, and I realized that my neck portion was probably going to take the longest, as my long hair and sleeping methods don't work as well.

Speaking of sleeping, it has been HELL.

The doctor said that I should sleep with a towel so I don't have to wash my sheets so often. This has proved so uncomfortable that I don't think I'm ever really sleeping. It's uncomfortable on my face, so I move to my back, but I never sleep on my back, so I can't sleep. It's like I'm sleeping on an airplane.

To make matters worse, I still have some scenes to shoot for my documentary, but I look like some raw blow fish. I can barely even edit my movies because moving the mouse and typing will either cause my sumac to become irritated because I'm moving against it, or my arms become sore since I'm holding them up very strategically so nothing gets touched.

Between these, I clean my dorm every day, freaked that something still holds the oils from the plant that did this to me.

I just want to have this over with.

But, per usual, this is only so much in my control.

Random Fact: Urushiol oil (the stuff that gives you a rash) stays active on any surface, including dead plants, for up to 5 years.

Adoration

I have an unfathomable love for certain men I've chosen to adore throughout my life. Some left as soon as they entered (teenage years had me loving people whom I later realized were for looks, not anything else). But, these are some that I will never shake.

David Bowie

As a friend once said, "David Bowie is like wine... he gets even better with age." I suppose the future will really tell true, but, until then, I will always get goosebumps when I think of his concert (best I've been to so far, hands down). I don't know what else to say. I understand that he's not the greatest actor, but, damn his music just touches my soul. I cannot ever place how much I adore him.

I also think he has a great sense of humor (see Extras).

Jeff Goldblum

He's funny, Jewish, and likes the environment. Whenever I talk about the guy I want in a relationship, my guy friends always use his name to pick on me, saying we were a match made in heaven.

I wish.

Neil Gaiman

This love is a little different. This love started with creativity, where I read a book by him, saw a film based on a book of his, and perked interest. I then found out that he did comics. And I read more of his books. And saw more of his movies.

I would love to shake this man's hand in hopes of ever creating such wonder. He'd be an awesometastic uncle.

Jon Stewart

I don't think I need to explain this.

Well Liked:
Christian Bale - Oddly enough, this was because of Howl's Moving Castle. I respect him now.
Tim Curry - Great actor. Love most of his work.
Dustin Hoffman - Wonderful everything. He makes me want to be an actoress.
Johnny Depp - He made me want to be an actress. Though he started doing films quite regularly now, slightly ruining the effect he once had on me, he still has my heart.
Shigeru Miyamoto - He created Legend of Zelda.
Owen Pallett - Most recent love. His music...
Paul Rudd - It started with Clueless. It's continued with the fact that he was on Friends, and then he appeared in "Wainy Days" in The Pickup. Also, props for Role Models.

Random Fact: These were the only ones I could think of at this time. And the only reason why John Krasinski wasn't on the list was because I've yet to like a movie he is in (but, hot damn, I'd totally date him).

/edit: I forgot to put Will Smith. I don't even know why. I've loved him since the day I saw him on TV.

It's Real

Today, while I was in the car with Russell, I confided in him that I sometimes think of my car, and how, even after I put on the brake, though it is fully stopped, when I let it go, I know that it would still creep forward at a speed to smack the back end of another car, and leave a nice good mark. "It's weird," I said.

Yet, I feel like I do this with life all the time. I forget to keep a hold on my brake, and so I creep forward, then smack into something, making a dent. Sometimes, I can't afford the repairs. And I move on, hoping that the dents will be fixed, or maybe replaced with a new body.

And I look around and see the damage on everyone else. A dent here. Some paint scratched there. And the price that has to be paid in order to fix it.

In most cases, seeing what everyone else has to repair is when we look at ourselves to manage what we've got.

I see mine.

I see one that is on my right pointer finger. The paint is scuffed where I judge others. Where I compare values. Where I gossip.

Another is a spot on the bottom of my foot, only exposed when I choose so. A little bent out of shape because of being self conscious, about weight, thoughts, situations... This fender bender is fixed most often, just as often as it's re-bent.

At the nape of my neck is a sputtering engine, where I think too much. Two lines from being keyed, from where I put my hands in too deep. Behind my right ear is where I won't listen, the radio that only receives static.

I see a small dent, near my left knee, where I can't love like I once did.

I also see the good things.

My right shoulder, a windshield wiper, holding my sense of humor. The fluid to wash it is my awkwardness.

My left elbow, the door that only shuts if you slam it hard enough, is my ability to give a great hug.

All of my toes hold my intuition (door locks, of course).

My wrists hold my inner beauty, just like a wheel, how it drives the course.

I love my car. Sometimes, I get frustrated; but I wouldn't trade it in for anything. It can still be fixed up, but it's definitely not broken. I'll keep tuning it until I get it right.

Random Fact: No, Mom and Dad, this is not my way of telling you I got in a car accident. It's all a metaphor. Except for the remark on keeping my car--I love my Jeep (I'd totally still pimp it out though).

Summer's Here

Yesterday, while leaving a driveway, Alex and I saw our first mosquito of the year.

Before I could really say anything much about the fragile being bouncing against the inside of his car, he smacked his hand, and the thing was dead.

He then proceeded to wipe his hand on a hat he had on the dashboard.

"I am never wearing that hat again," I said, looking out the window at my side.

"Whatever, I wash it, like, every time I do laundry," he said, and looked at his fingers to see if there were any more guts. He wiped them on the hat a few more times, then his pants.

I'm never wearing his pants, either.

Random Fact: "Bookkeeper" is the only word in the english language that has 3 letters that consecutively repeat.