Stir Crazy

The semester wrapped up a little over 3 weeks ago (THREE WEEKS ALREADY?!), and since then I have been in a semi-constant state of boredom that ebbs back and forth between worry-free elation and lackadaisical frustration; the latter of which has been effecting me most recently. I am jobless, I have too much time on my hands, I have friends who aren't as needy as me and goddamnit I have a mind that thinks (see, 'worries') far too much. I have become stir crazy in my solitary confinement, longing for the platonic companionship of a dog or cat in the most desperate of moments (Herbie just doesn't cut it sometimes, he's so selfish!*) and finding myself stuck in a perpetual downward spiral of borderline agoraphobic anxiety...

So...needless to say...it was INCREDIBLY NICE to go out this evening with my friend Julie. I mean, wow, indescribably nice. The weather in Louisville has felt like I'm stuck on a movie set in Seattle, preparing for a funeral scene...ultra gloomy and doomy; so I was surprised at how great it felt to be out and about in the world. I joined Julie at Molly Malone's and gorged on fish and chips, topped off with a Stella Artois (courtesy my recent 21st birthday...woo!)...and we even got coffee at Quills and ice cream at Homemade Ice Cream and Pie Kitchen. It was a real hog fest, but we were both so tickled to be out that, well, why the fuck not, you know? We then spent the evening "girling out" and talking about guys; more specifically, our shared affinity for a good beard. Mmm, yes.

I'm not sure what I'm getting at. Maybe that it was nice to feel alive and happy after several days of Charlie Brown-esque depression. And that I need to get out more and really, REALLY need to find a job with this newfound, uplifted attitude before it hides away again. Yeah. I think that's it.

On one last random side note: I am SO fucking excited about this My Morning Jacket concert coming up on the 31st. I mean, just as excited for it as I am for Bonnaroo. I bought the tickets as a birthday gift to myself (ROW B...just think about that), and when I found out it was being turned into a sort of huge event thing (with Todd Haynes directing it and broadcasting it live online)... Now I'm just beside myself with happiness and am forcing my brother to go with me (we love concerts and we love the Jacket, but our last MMJ concert experience ended with two kiddos on acid rubbing our hair the whole time, and it made us want to steer clear of GA concert crowds for a while), so it should be a raucous, good ole time... Okay, I'll shut up now.

*just have to clarify...that's a joke...hardy har

I Need To Get Out Of Louisville

For the longest time I was not only content with Louisville, but I was happy. Why shouldn't I be? Yes, this isn't the biggest city in the USA, and even if it is very supportive of the arts, it is virtually impossible to work as an artist (specifically, a performing artist) within the city, but it has everything I ever wanted growing up...so how can I complain? The answer is simple: I can't. I think every single day about how different my life could have been had I grown up in a city that had magnet schools, private institutions with many opportunities for scholarship funding, and exposure, exposure, exposure. My God...

I don't have a time machine, and unfortunately for all of us, time doesn't even stop to let us think for a moment; so it's a total waste to linger on what could have been. I am just grateful to have been raised by two wonderful people who still exposed my brother and myself to as many things as they could. My parents did normal things, like encouraging us to listen to music, having us take piano lessons (6 years for myself, not sure about my brother), enrolling me in ballet, and later, jazz and tap, and of course private guitar lessons for my brother, while I opted to take private painting instruction...but these normal things meant so much more to us than most will ever realize.

For whatever reason, Eastern Kentuckians don't like art. Well, that's a roughly put statement...what I mean to say is that, they don't really care about art. Yes, you will still see plenty of folk art (quilts, woodwork, crafts, and the occasional bucolic painting: see, Russell May), and no I am not saying every Eastern Kentuckian falls into this category; but if someone were to argue with me on this, they better have an argument to back it up. I grew up around friends who, God love 'em, made fun of me for years because I was an artist. I know the majority of it was done in jest, but that doesn't make it entirely okay. It didn't help that the only decent art instructor I ever had during my entire 14-year public school education was in elementary school (a woman who I later mentored under, and realized that teaching anything outside of a collegiate setting wasn't for me). Hell, after my freshman year of high school my school decided to eliminate the art program (yes, you read correctly, the program...all because they wanted to fire the teacher), pushing me even further into the dark away from art education.

So, you see, if my parents hadn't encouraged my brother and me to take initiative outside of school for our art, then we wouldn't have become the pissy, creative little artists we are today. I am getting beside myself, though. The point of this post was about why I need to leave Louisville. In the journey that has been/currently is my life, I feel that Louisville was the perfect stop-over point for me; but I'm ready to move on. This city is comfortable...too comfortable... It feels like an artist's retirement dream (well, if you want small town America + enough of the city life, but not too much of it), but I'm not ready to retire. I'm ready to get out there and fucking work. I need to get out of this city. The world is my oyster, right?

Also, on a random site note: I heard this band called Cibo Matto on Grooveshark earlier and they are so fucking weird I can't resist them. I told Erin that if we had a band, it would be just like Cibo Matto.

Cibo Matto - Know Your Chicken by WBRNewMedia

Obama Is Such A BAMF

Ugh, apparently the video got taken down or something. Maybe I'll come back and fix it later...maybe not... You can probably Google search "Obama, Seth Meyers, Donald Trump, 2011 White House Correspondents Dinner" and find a billion versions of it. Just sayin'...

A friend posted this video on Facebook earlier, and while I usually dodge videos related to any political figures (a bad habit, as I am often lagging behind on current affairs), I was drawn to this video. And boy, oh boy, am I glad I watched it...

Basically, if you don't feel like watching all of it, President Obama rips Donald Trump a new asshole like it's a surprise roast. The best part of all? It just gets worse and worse as the video goes on. As if that public wound isn't painful enough, Seth Meyers steps up to the plate and pours some more salt on it. Oh well... I don't want to sound mean, but the Donald certainly had something coming to him, so I can't feel too bad. Either way, I take comfort in knowing that our President can handle a sense of humor with swag and still come off on the right foot at the end of the day.

Good Morning

I had an older friend a few years ago who was a poet (sorry if that sounds a little pretentious, but she was...she was even finishing her master's degree in poetry), and she used to always talk about how much she loved mornings. She would go to bed around 10:00PM and wake up by 5:00 or 6:00AM the next day. Now, at the time, I thought she was insane. Maybe insane is a harsh word. I guess I just didn't understand why anyone who wasn't required to get up so early ever would...

That is, until I discovered why myself. I went through a bad phase last spring where I quit sleeping for over a month and just spent a lot of time in some weird fog. And while I wouldn't go back to having sleepless nights EVER again, there were a few really beautiful things I took away from the entire situation...one of which being this: I love mornings. Do I get up early? Fuck no. Not often...not as much as I should. Then again, to be fair, I don't usually have a huge incentive to get up and get going most mornings (just bitching cause I still don't have a job).

Ah! I'm digressing! The point is, if you never take the time to wake up and appreciate a beautiful morning once in a while, then you are letting something truly precious fall right through the cracks in life. We all know it can be fun to be a night owl, but when you get up early (and I mean early...think 6:00AM) there is something so beautiful and tranquil about the morning. It feels like a well-kept secret...like you're the only person awake in the world, and it's just you and the earth for a few minutes as it should be. The air is still, unstirred by the bustle of people's movement, and sounds are soft, but clear. It's definitely one of those situations where you have to let yourself give into the morning, otherwise you'll just wind up feeling stupid and cranky and tired.

Anyway, maybe Walt Whitman was on to something all those years ago...

"Give me odorous at sunrise a garden of beautiful flowers where I can walk undisturbed." - Walt Whitman

I think the video has to be opened in another window...and for that, I apologize...

I'll Have So Much To Tell You About It

I love Fleet Foxes. More specifically, I love Robin Pecknold. Why? Well, to be honest, because I've heard he's an ultra shy guy and I can totally relate to the hellhole that is a shy life. Regardless, when I was home over the weekend I took some time out to read the most recent issue of Rolling Stone and found myself enamored at the Fleet Foxes article. It wasn't even anything special, but I guess what really stuck out was one part where it mentions the meaning behind the song, "Grown Ocean." Now, I'm not going to slap any specific claim on who said it (cause I don't remember and the magazine is at my parent's house, 3 hours away), but it was mentioned that "Grown Ocean" was about a dream where Pecknold is no longer socially anxious...and I think that's gorgeous.

Sometimes I understand the sentiment behind bands not telling the meaning to their music, but other times I think it makes the songs richer and fuller in worth and meaning. So, assuming this is true (I mean...RS wouldn't publish it if it wasn't...right?), and "Grown Ocean" is about the dream of overcoming social anxiety...well, that's just incredible. I concur Mr. Pecknold, and I hope that I too will one day awake from this because I have so much to tell.

Fleet Foxes - Grown Ocean from Fleet Foxes on Vimeo.

I know someday the smoke will all burn off
All these voices I'll someday have turned off
I will see you someday when I've woken
I'll be so happy just to have spoken
I'll have so much to tell you about it

Gone Too Soon

As of yesterday evening, my iPhone met an early demise courtesy of the washing machine. I don't want to talk about it, but I will say that I swear I checked my laundry beforehand and all the pockets and I have NO idea how in the fuck I overlooked it... Fast forward to today, where I tried to go purchase a new phone, ran into complications and finally just said fuck everything, bought a temporary piece of shit replacement phone and went on my merry way...

Looking onward at my new phone, lovingly... or sadly... I'm not sure what that emotion is.

Anyway, I'll stop complaining now. Enough of my white people problems.

Story for a Rainy Day...

Today was a little rough for wear on me. I normally get to sleep in on Mondays, but in lieu of this I had to get up early and meet some classmates at campus to work on a project. I won't delve into details, other than mentioning two things:

1. It's a craft project (meaning, it's a waste of time for anyone over about the age of 13)...but maybe I'm biased in being frustrated over this aspect of it because I'm an artist. I already don't like working in groups (see #2), but when I have to do a project that involves creativity of any kind...you may as well just put a gun to my head. It's the same thing...every time...no one else will suggest any ideas, especially nothing sensible, cohesive, or entertaining, and anytime I make a suggestion I may as well have just said it to the wall, cause that's the reaction I get.

2. I HATE WORKING IN GROUPS. Ahhhhh. I'm sorry. I do. Especially when it's a group you don't choose... Nothing is worse.

Anyway. Momentarily shoving aside my anger over this ridiculous project, I'll go on to say that today was really strange. I set my alarm for 9am, but found myself awake around 7:30am anyway. I took my time enjoying the morning, preparing for the day, whatever else. I left the house and stepped out into that last lingering bit of beautiful weather that was blowing away with the storm pushing in. There was even a strange peace with going to a Hobby Lobby at a 10:00am on a Monday. Just me and a bunch of scrapbooking, crafty moms, shuffling through aisles with that odd Christian hymnal elevator music in the background. It was strangely nice. All of it.

I got to school, worked on that project for THREE HOURS, then got to walk around with it in down-pouring rain between class. The thick presentation board was almost soaked through and was starting to bend by the time I headed to my car to go home. At this point, I decided to skip my afternoon class, already affected by the weird haze of the day. So as I walked to my car, rain still pouring everywhere, I found myself soaked to the core along with my (basically) all-paper poster board project. And as much as it sucked to think of that project getting ruined...or knowing that I look and feel like I just took a shower fully dressed from the rain...I started laughing. I had one of those insane beautiful moments where I kept wanting to break out laughing while I walked alone, but I knew I looked crazy so I kept trying to stifle it and just enjoy the feeling. And finally, as I approached the awning to the parking garage stairwell (my safe haven goal from the rain), I saw a man coming down the stairs, fighting with an umbrella as he approached the open sky. It was a fight he lost, as the umbrella immediately protested by blowing backgrounds with the first gust of wind, being more problematic than useful. The guy began shaking the umbrella and yelling loudly, "Fuck this fucking shit! Fucking monsoon!" And that was all it took. I busted out in raucous, almost uncontrollable laughter, only managing to calm myself for the two seconds it took to pass him on the stairwell.

It might not sound like much, but it was a nice feeling...the entire day felt great in such an unfamiliar way. I feel like I don't get too many days like this, so when they come along it's an incredible feeling...and I wanted to share that.

Plus, I mean...that umbrella guy story is funny...

I'll leave you with photos (because I know people only peruse through blogs to look at photos 9 times out of 10) from Twin Peaks since I am currently a slave to David Lynch's universe. You can expect a post all about it here in a few days. For now, though, pictures [spoilers...sort of]:

Celebrating Leo's vegetable-state return home...

Log lady...

Lucy...

Agent Cooper singing the praises of pie...

And of course...I can't resist a photo of Audrey and Agent Cooper...one of those couples that I feel almost morally(?--not sure if that's the word I want to use) wrong for "shipping"...

A Cooking Adventure!

My day got off to a rather rough and downtrodden start, but it shaped up to be a great one by the early afternoon. I'll list the reasons fairly quick (as that's not what this post is about, but I feel the need to share):

1. Ran into an old friend, had lunch, caught up.

2. FLEET FOXES ALBUM LEAKED (I still plan on buying it, though...it's a respect thing I hold for musicians I like)

3. Found out my Medieval Art & Architecture class is cancelled until next Thursday.

4. Went to Whole Foods, got to the checkout, paid, realized I forgot to buy something--I go back and get it, then the girl "rings it up" and tells me it's on them... as in... FREE. A glorious thing. (Mama didn't raise no fool...I got the fuck out of there once she said the magic word.)

5. Well, this didn't happen today...BUT...my brother is officially out of the Navy! Yay! I've barely seen him for any consistent time longer than 2 weeks during the last 4 years, so it's nice to have him home again.

With the good, however, also comes the bad. Or, not bad...just, frustrating...

1. I knew Carl Broemel was playing a solo show at Zanzabar last night (technically Everest, another great musical act, was headlining with Carl as an opener) and I wanted to go, but I didn't even bother looking into it since I was pretty sure Zanzabar has a strict 21+ policy. And I knew, I fucking knew that other members of MMJ would more than likely be there. Well, guess what? Not only were other members there, hell the entire band (save for Bo--the keyboardist) made an appearance. I mean...the world isn't about to end...it just sucks. I turn 21 really soon, and sometimes it feels like the universe just dangles things like this in front of me (I'm sure this happens to other folks, too, of course).

2. My cooking adventure. I have been wanting to eat falafel for about 3 weeks now, but my friends are all too worthless to like food outside the realm of chicken fingers and hamburgers (okay, that's a bit of a stretch...but they definitely don't have an appetite for things too "exotic"...and I guess mediterranean food falls in that category). So...riding on my happiness high, I decided to cook it myself. I'm an avid fan of allrecipes.com, so much so that I signed up for their daily recipe--that I normally never look at; and yesterday, on Meatless Monday, the featured recipe was baked falafel. It was a sign from the universe that this was meant to happen. I took the recipe, went to ValuMarket and then eventually Whole Foods, gathering all the ingredients to make the falafel.

Jesus...you can tell I'm an artist because I set this up like a classroom still life...

Then, once I made it home...IT. TOOK. FOREVER. TO. MAKE. Oh my God. I am not exaggerating. Not to mention, the recipe (I actually ended up using this one) calls for the use of a blender* and a food processor* (*see, things I don't own). Did that stop me? Why, of course it didn't! Because I'm a stubborn dumbass, and I wanted to see-through my project. The photos that follow are from the "culinary adventure"...

(starting above) Here I was...a solid 45 minutes in...still chopping up fresh parsley, garlic, and an onion. And mashing chick peas with just about any kitchen utensil I can find (since, apparently, I don't own one of those wire smash things--I could have sworn I did!!)

After using primitive methods to mash them together, they turned out decent...rather clumpy, instead of pureed together...but they can't all be winners, ya know...?

Oh yeah, and I couldn't find tzatziki sauce anywhere...so I had to make it, too. Once again, sans blender/anything helpful (I had a hand blender, but it didn't do shit). It was also gross cutting up a cucumber, just because I think they are so nasty...but I still like tzatziki sauce for some reason!

Annnd...3 HOURS LATER here is the finished product. It made WAY too much for one person (or two, or three)--but that is a tragedy you face frequently when living alone/cooking for one. I would normally try to pawn some off on friends, but, well...I already mentioned all that business...

The saddest part of all (brace yourself)? I spent, as I mentioned, 3 HOURS (!!!) making this...and how did it turn out? Actually, quite good. It tasted like falafel and tzatziki sauce...it was good... And I spent so long cooking it (plus I had barely eaten today), that by the time I finished...I didn't want it anymore. I ate, maybe, a third of what you see on that last plate and just called it a night. Sigh... :(

Final Verdict: For future reference...it's not worth it. I'd rather lug myself down the road to one of the mediterranean restaurants that line Bardstown Rd. and eat alone than go through all that trouble again.

Sh'yep

I'm taking a break from studying for an exam in my History of Rock and Roll class (which, really, you'd probably think it wouldn't take much studying...but we're expected to know all the record labels, producers, influences blah blah blah all that other shit...so alas, here I am)...and I figured I'd stop by my blog and post something. More specifically, I was going to post a few things on my mind right now/today:

1. The new Strokes album is sort of a toss-up for me. Is it good? Yeah. Hell yeah. It's just like all their old stuff. What's wrong with it? It's just like all their old stuff. I'm sure I'm not entirely alone on this, but I guess I just sort of hoped after a 5-year hiatus they would deliver something, uh...new? Jeez, I just sound mean. Forget it. Enjoy this song.

2. I finally got my new stereo installed in my car! Now I can listen to CD's again (and even my iPod without one of those horrible radio transmitters) and not worry about anyone stealing the unopened stereo that sat in the back of my Jeep since January.

3. Speaking of my History of Rock and Roll class... We're just now beginning to start on the 70's (because the class is, in truth, the history of popular music in the 20th century and how fucked up the music industry behind it was/still is???), so we spent a good deal of time covering all the British Invasion and psychedelia music, but we specifically spent a good deal of time on the Beatles. No big deal, well...it was, but you know what I mean...all I was going to say is that my favorite "fun fact" I learned through all of it is that, for the cover of Sgt. Pepper's all of the band members had to submit people they wanted for the cover. The only two people that John Lennon submitted didn't make it on the album cover. Why? Because he submitted Hitler and Jesus. Yeah.

4. And finally, a Jim Carrey (circa "Liar Liar") gif that sums up how I interact with most people on a daily basis...

Toxic

If I had to guess, I would say that you could ask any friend of mine what I'm majoring in or studying at school, and they probably wouldn't be able to tell you...or, at the very least, they'd start out by saying, "I don't know, last time I heard I think she was studying _____." Hell, I think this is the same response my own mother has to use... But it isn't for lack of trying. I've always known that I would get a degree in some form of art, it's just that pinning down a specific field has been really difficult...because I love everything related to art. I wouldn't mind having a degree in all of these fields: painting/drawing, theatre, English and music history; I just know that I'd rather endure a root canal procedure than spend that much time in school.

With all of that in mind, I spent the last year and a half in school in some back and forth mental tango between visual art and theatre; one that has left me in limbo, confused, frustrated and immensely depressed most of the time for reasons I can barely explain.

As I near the end of a 3-year run at my university, I know I need to pick a major and stick with it (I should have chosen a major "officially" a few semesters ago), but I still find myself doubting my options. It is with great pleasure, however, that I was fortunate enough to find a copy of The Artist's Way a few weeks ago. This book is essentially an artist's manual/workbook, geared at curing creative blockages and reviving the, er, inner artist(?) that has always been a part of you.

I first heard about this book a few months ago on Laura Veir's website. Apparently, a few years ago, Laura was teaching music lessons (talk about wishing I had a time machine to jump on an opportunity like that!--I'm assuming she doesn't teach now...) and requested that students use this book as a supplemental text. After some extensive research on the book and the stored faith I already have in her as an artist, I decided I needed this book in my life. And talk about making a great investment...

I am only now just beginning to approach week 1 of the 12-week "recovery process," and already I feel like a huge weight has been lifted from my shoulders. I don't think I knew I was creatively blocked until I began reading this book, but now it all makes sense! You know, I haven't completed a painting or drawing in the past 2 years... TWO YEARS. I've started on somewhere between 20-30...and never finished one of them. I think I haven't finished a book either... Well, that's probably a lie. I know I've started on at least 50-70, though, in the last 2 years...and I don't remember finishing many of them. It's like there is some stopping point in my mind, where I just drop off and quit with things. That can't be healthy...right?

What I'm getting at is this: I don't know where or what caused me to become so creatively blocked, all I know is that I'm working to un-do all the damage. And I realized yesterday that, the healthiest thing for me to do regarding school is to go back to fine arts and focus on painting and drawing. Would I rather have a degree in theatre? Maybe. However, if I plan on staying at the school I'm at (and really, at this point, it's the smartest option...even though I can be a bitchy, sulky whinebag about it), I don't want a theatre degree from there. As much as I love theatre, the department itself has presented me with more problems than solutions (something that I can NOT say the same for the fine arts department). I know I'm not alone in this regard, either. My favorite teacher and semi-confidant in the theatre department once referred to the department as "toxic"...a mental image that has stuck in my mind ever since. I'm not saying that I am completely innocent regarding the hand I've been dealt, I'm just saying that for the sake of my mental sanity it would probably be best if I just went back to my ole faithful, visual art, and stuck it out there for the remaining year or two. It's not like I plan on using any bachelor's degree I get once I graduate, anyway.

On that note, I leave you with (bet you saw this coming...sort of) Britney Spears' song "Toxic." It seemed fitting, however I'm not a totally sadistic individual...I'm leaving you with the Yael Naim version, which is definitely a better recording (IMO) on all sides: vocally, musically, compositionally, you get the idea...

Confession: I actually like Britney Spears' version of "Toxic"...Jesus H.....

Did I Mention...

...I like to dance?

Check out that sweet ass moon walking at 1:40. I'm tired of hearing about Rebecca Black, let's focus on some Flynt Flossy.

I have nothing good to say right now, so I figured it was best to post this video and write very little. In fact, I think I'll just leave a small list of things I'd like right now and leave it at that...

1. My brother to officially be released from the Navy (any day now...it's one of those things where he's just waiting on paperwork to go through.......bleh....)

2. Quit going to college and actually pursue things I care about.

3. A decent job.

...and I'm just going to leave the list at that, cause those are the big ones.

"It's such a fine line between stupid and clever."

Note: Just a quick little note...not that anyone gives a shit, but the title of this post has nothing to do with the post itself...just sayin'... Also, it's from "This Is Spinal Tap"...which I watched earlier...

I was fortunate enough to be able to spend the first

half of my spring break in Nashville, TN (well, okay...I was just outside of Nashville's southern tip, but what the fuck ever, it counts) at my near and dear friend Erin's house. I am also happy to report that it was exactly what I needed from life right now. I was so burnt out and downtrodden from school (did I mention that I also had a chest cold and had ALSO lost my debit card for the first time ever last week?) that, as much as I like Louisville--and I really, really do!--I needed to get as far away from here as I could physically and financially muster. So with that, I headed further South and stayed at Erin's...

I went to pack my bags, and Inky told me (via her death stare) that I wasn't allowed to leave Nashville...

Erin is one of those people who, ironically, makes me feel like maybe there is a God out there somewhere. I say ironically because she is one of the most cynical and sarcastic individuals I have ever met, specifically when it comes to religion. But the reason I even say that she has the former effect is because I feel like we only met by a bit of luck granted to me via the universe (something, if I continue blogging about my life, you will realize I don't have much of). It's a simple story, really: we were both going to the same college and got paired as random roommates by chance. A story that would be unimpressive and mediocre if you didn't know that the apartment-dorm-whatever complex we lived at was comprised of (and these are rough figures): 93% athletes for the University of Louisville, 6.2% girls who want to fuck said athletes, and 0.8% normal and/or cool people. With that in mind, it is truly by the grace of God that we ended up as roommates...and I've been a different person ever since.

I don't think Erin influenced me in the sense that she changed me, I just think she's got such a palpable personality that it can either bring out the best or the worst in people...and for me, it brought out the best. She helped me, sort of, let the world see the best in me, without even lifting a finger or realizing she was doing it (I'm sure she doesn't even realize now that she's done it). I had been so shy and awkward (something that was the product of multiple factors, I'm sure, but partly because I had grown up in Eastern KY...in a non-progressive town...around people who not only shunned most of my artistic interests, but didn't give a shit about any of it...of course I was quiet!) when she first met me, and she was the push I needed in the right direction to accepting and thriving as who I am.

I guess I'm mentioning all of this because Erin is someone who I feel like I always learn from indirectly, and on this last trip to Nashville I found myself discovering something very true about myself that I had never really acknowledged: I really, really like weird people. Specifically speaking, weird guys.

Now, you gotta understand...my definition of weird isn't necessarily obscure...sadly, in today's society, I think weird is replacing the term unique. But it doesn't just mean that I like people who are unique...it's people who are so tapped into their life that they say and do weird shit (usually things that most of us are thinking, but never say or do). God, I feel like I'm explaining this poorly...let's see... Well, I don't know. Maybe I can't explain it. Maybe I shouldn't have to. Either you get it or you don't. Being weird is a really beautiful and strange thing anymore, and on that rare occasion that I meet people who qualify in the category, the feeling is indescribable. It's just a shame that there aren't more people who can qualify under this category. I'm still waiting for Mr. Right-ish Weirdo to come along, but until then I'll just have to keep ignoring every fuck I pass on campus or on the streets who doesn't put off that transcendental aura of odd...

Well, I promise I'll start posting shit that is more succinct and compact soon. Until then, hopefully you took something away from this mess of a post. Also, enjoy that pointless music video (which I hadn't seen until I just posted it and good lord, it almost ruined the song for me it was so bleh...is that mean? I still love the song!). I'm heading to Eastern KY for part deux of spring break, so wish me luck. It should be a rip-roaring, grand ole time! Not really. Well, maybe. We'll see.

Also, here's a gpoy with me wearing my new crochet poncho/shaw thing that is the best thing I've bought in years...

School is for Fools?

I've reached a point of being so burnt out with school that I literally have to bribe myself to do required work. I tell myself that I can watch a movie or read something I actually want to if I can just finish those next 7 bullet points on my study guide. Otherwise I am the most convincing person when it comes to talking myself into/out of things...and my school work literally won't get done. I redefine procrastination by using due dates and times to their full capacity (sometimes even opting to surpass them and "test the waters" of whatever course I'm taking and the professor who teaches it's limitations). For the most part I have managed to skate through college relatively unscathed (a fact I attribute solely to my diligent [retired-teacher] mother's hustle with me and school), but it doesn't always work in my favor...and right now, this semester, it's catching up with me.

Depending on where you are right now, you may or may not notice that I am typing this entry at 3:56 A.M. (EST)...and the reason I mention it at all is because, contrary to popular belief, I don't really like to stay up super late like most college kids. Don't get me wrong, I love to stay up late as fuck...IF I know I can sleep in the next day and all will be well. Other than that, I hate staying up late (especially if I'm doing work). Sleep and I get along really well. In fact, when we don't see each other for periods of time, the universe throws both of our schedules out of whack until things can settle back into some semblance of rhythmic order. Tonight, however, sleep and I will not be having our daily rendezvous...instead I am having an affair with my school work. Oh yeah, you heard right, and it's just as exciting as it sounds!

What it boils down to is this: I'm fucked. I put off studying for my first exam in my "Medieval Art and Architecture" course (which is tomorrow...er, I mean, later today); a course which, let me just say, is a split-level class...meaning it's offered at both a 300-level and a 500-level (for the graduate students) and also meaning that those of us in there at the 300-level made a huge mistake signing up for it. Of course it's catered to the grad students, with an expansive workload featuring in-depth studies of every basilica and relief you ain't never heard of...Hell, if I were them I know I'd want it to be that way...but what about the rest of us? Oh, who am I kidding...I'm just whining because I put off all the required reading and studying until literally last night and now I'm having to cram hopelessly until the sun comes up.

What am I getting at, you ask? Well, I don't know. Maybe the fact that, deep down, I fucking love school. I love learning, I love reading, I love studying...love love love. But there is some soul-sucking element lying in the walls of my university that has almost drained me of all life...an element that I've spent the last 4 semesters trying to discover. I'm constantly frustrated because I know that when I graduate...IF I graduate...my GPA will only reflect the product of my unhappiness instead of any semblance of aptitude, intelligence or perseverance. I'm frustrated because I can't enjoy this time of my life that is supposed to be the "end all, be all" apparently (and let me just say, if that's true, well...WOW...the future is looking bleak ya'll). And I'm frustrated because I just don't want to be in school.

It's moments like these that I wish quitting college was easy and practical...but alas, it doesn't seem to be. All I gotta say is, if a bachelor's degree is the "new" high school diploma, where is the GED equivalent of a bachelor's degree? Cause the second they create one...sign me the fuck up.

And yes, I'm posting a Beach Boys video to end this post. Listen to the dulcet tones of Carl Wilson and get sucked into his porkchop sideburns...Lord knows I am!

Well, here I be.

After a tumultuously busy year and the encouragement of a friend (and fellow blogger, Erin), I have decided to join the self-indulgent masses and create a blog so that I can talk about anything I think is relevant or interesting. But since you probably don't know me, here is a small crasher course on me:

Hello!

Some basics:

My name is Natalie.

I'm 20 years old (almost 21).

I am a burnt out college student, currently finishing up my "junior" year.

I live in Louisville, KY...but am originally from a Podunk town in Eastern Kentucky.

I promise this smile wasn't as forced and painful as it looks...

I have eclectic art interests/passions that include, but are not limited to: music, theatre, film, visual art (specifically, painting and drawing), and reading/writing.

I like to talk about serious things regarding life frequently and I value youthful maturity and intelligence... At the same time, though, I'm a hugely sarcastic cynic with a bad sailor's mouth who thinks that life should never be taken too seriously and tries to find humor in almost everything.

I am very ambitious and hopeful with regard to my future, even if I have a bad tendency to sound like the world's biggest pessimist. I also consider myself to be a misanthrope...which is frustrating, because I don't necessarily want to hate people, they just make it hard to like them.

I'm a huge My Morning Jacket fan...just letting you know up front, because there is a slight possibility that I might talk about their music here and there. Or just reference them as being BAMF's and a complete and total inspiration to me.

I mean...goddamn...just listen to them...

Uh...what else...I'm an actor, a theatre major. I may talk about things regarding plays or courses or etc./whatever in regard to all that.

Other than all that I've listed (and excluding the fact that I consider myself to be a uniquely interesting individual--maybe that's just wishful thinking?), I'm pretty much your average 20-something , young woman who is trying to find her way in the world and make sense of it all on the way.....and maybe have someone read this blog on the way, too(?).

Yeah. That's all I got.

...oh wait, just kidding. You can also find me here:

Tumblr

Twitter

Facebook ...maybe one day I'll return to Facebook, but for now my account has been "deleted" (a.k.a. deactivated) for a month, and I'm happy with it.