Lazy Productivity

I have a problem. Everyday I start what making something that ends up being atleast a 3 hour commitment. Not that my school work is terribly demanding, but seriously, I think it's a little funny. A little.

Whenever I'd try to make something at my mother's, my every step would be micro-managed, and her endless wisdom would gently and condescendingly remind me that I don't know anything. Then I moved to a place where there was really no room, or demand, for any homecooked necessities. So I guess now, that I have a home of my own, I want to make all of those mistakes, oh dear lord they are numerous, and make all the things I want.

I love eggs. Overeasy, in pie crust, scrambled with hot sauce, fried with bacon and green onions. This is what I woke the boy up with yesterday before I headed off to work.

Today's his first day of new work, I made him let me take a picture of him before he left :3. He's got a uniform shirt and what not and looked adorable. When he gets off we're picking up some cream cheese and peanut butter. Remember those cheesecakes I made last week? I had packed one away in his lunch for him, which he apparently shared with all his coworkers at the theater with great review. I asked if he wanted to take a full batch with him on his last day on Thursday, he emphatically agreed. So that'll be what we're tackling this evening.

In other parts of my mind, been itching to do something artlike. I keep looking at this piece I did out of frustration last semester. It's just aggressive fingerpainting with oil paints, (horrible idea, really, horrendous to get off anything), on a piece of cardboard. Right now it's just lying against the wall in our room. May tackle that this weekend.

A List

~A List

You see I've got this list
of what I want in a partner
I've dated curly haired Anime-fanatics,
who dress up like Sephiroth at conventions,
aristocratic pot heads who have bird noses,
musical theater buffs whose houses smell of marlboros and laundry,
I liked guys with guitars,
a tenor who taught himself piano,
a white rapper whose heart rested on a Beatles album
someone who could appreciate the Galveston sunrise,
someone who would bear my mediocre singing
when I tried to compose melodies on guitar,
I've dated older men
dependent on Ambien and adorned with acne scars,
I've crushed on the quiet guy in English class who
read Terry Prachett, and was the only one who raised his hand,
aside from me,
Atheists, casual religious piety, and conservative
Episcopalians who grew up on wooden kneelers,
pursued them all, never was really pursued myself,
buff guys with anger issues,
even a girl who couldn't decide which gender she wanted,
going through all that,
I've made a list,
a long one,
of do's and don'ts to look for
-must like rats, Star Trek, Modest Mouse and Coffee
-must have as deep of an appreciation for socks as I do
-must love watching sunrises/sunsets
the list goes on, for pages on end
but most of all,
I want
a guy with a list as big as mine,
so at night, when we're weaved in each others arms
we can laugh
at how
we don't match each others.

Labor Day Heroes

That's right. While all of you slumberbugs sleep in that extra three hours, I get to go in and work the... wait for this... 3.5 hours the library is open today. I demand compensation, or homage. Or just a back rub really, y'know I never had horrible back cramps and aches. Having pain so acute I can't walk and had to be sent home from school is normal, but never, specifically, back disturbances.

Well, as my back cries out in unanswered agony I walk outside to catch the bus and
HOLY CARP IT'S LOVELY OUTSIDE

Not only is it windy and cool tempered, but it just smells wonderful. My senses tend to tie smells and images/memories together. So as I was taking the unusually pleasant walk through the 3rd ward down to my stop, I was overcome with the newfound excitement I had experienced last year, walking out of my dorm to class still enrapt with the thrill of being in college. I could smell it when I woke up, I felt it stumbling across the living room, avoiding a pouncing cat trying to target my toes, and while I was making a bacon, green onion, and cheese omelet for the slumbering boy, I felt lighter.

I feel like the past few months have been put on fast-forward in trying to stabilize into a better place. As we've been in this house I've realized that my "survival mode" isn't something that goes away even when conditions are more favorable. I suppose it's something that I'm just going to have to work on, or something I've got to grow out of, granted, I did spend a greater part of 19 years developing it.

Speaking of, the other day when I was on the phone with wells fargo credit card department (shoot me this application has been going on for two months now) I finally got in touch with someone with empathetic tones and human capabilities, a first, after giving my information, again, she happily reminded me that I have a birthday coming up.

As far as numbers go, 20 sounds really lame, aside from the thrill of no longer being a teenager, I started feeling like that two years ago.

 Enough blabbering, I spent the greater part of the weekend cooking and writing the club theater script, which underwent another rewrite last night thanks to the help of a certain JW, so NOW I have to actually do my homework, which includes writing a flash fiction story of my choosing :D. May post it when done. It'll be workshopped next week. Excite :3

The pasta

I've made this like three times this week. Its funny, my mother always got me accustomed to making big helpings of things and then dividing them up in tupperware to decrease cooking needs further down in the week. Living with housemates has completely changed this. Also living with a boy who can eat whatever he wants and manage to lose weight, has lead me to believe in a simple yet profound solution. C'est la vie, make more pasta. Garlic, parmesan, and olive linguini

My ovaries are screaming OHGODCARBSGIVETHEMTOME

So today our landlord came by to fix a grocery list of things that have seemingly become functionless in just the month we've resided here. The dishwasher broke during its first attempt to run (we haven't opened it since), the sink in my bathroom sprung a leak in the pipes, and the disposal did likewise. Disposal fixed, sink in my bathroom is in worsened condition, and after many cuts and scrapes our landlord threw in the towel and has arranged for professional plumbers to come by. He also arranged for the dead tree in the front yard to be cut down, with the "tropical storm" all up in our area.

Poor tree.

You were ugly

You will not be missed-ly

But do not worry

Tree

They left your stump

So really

You never left-ly.

Here are more pictures of the cat, being all sneaky and conspiring with Ramen.

.

Pillow Fort

Y'know the things you stack together with plushie things and blankets? I want to make one. Especially with the weather all cloudy and gray, I actually love weather like this. So far it's only sprinkled.
Anywho, enchilada casserole. It started being a, throw a bit of everything in it, casserole, and turned out to be decently healthy with veggies, black beans, and wheat tortillas. Housemate approved. All in all, mexican food is always a great decision.

I woke up this morning craving chocolate, (nothing new). Hence, coffee chocolate chip muffins. The texture is a bit weird, will remake sometime. 

In other news, just finished a script for Club Theater. It's an awkward comedy, inspired and created by listening to the 69 Love Songs compilation by the Magnetic Fields. I've had a housemate read over it and she thought it was well humored and comical. Waiting on a few more peer reviews. This will technically be my first play I wrote, I feel like The Birds/Paper Crisp Spatula was more of a concept piece. The processes were different, with this being much more er, hands on. 

I bid salud, I'm already tired, contemplating a nap, and take my leave with a picture of a sleepy cat.

Cheesecake Cupcakes

They were delicious.
The pictures do not do them justice
They had swirls of peanut butter and dollops of melted chocolate.
I will remake with better quality photos.

And here is a picture of a Catserole. 

Long time

Too much. Simply too much has happened that you have got to be bound to have an inkling of it. And that's that.

This is now turning into my, whatever I want it to be blog. Because dammit I'm going to actually keep up with it... more frequently than I was before.

In my defense though, I am without internet. Currently at Black Hole with the boy. After trying to pick out the important details of the online lectures for my Brit Lit class (which weren't numerous so far), and almost falling asleep doing so, I, now caffeinated, am in comfortable territory looking up cheesecake recipes and thinking about... stuff.

Here are some writtenly things.

- Are salamanders colorblind
if so, don't tell Mister Whiley Smiley Slimey-Man
his class is too high
as is the words per minute of his mind
he talks and talks and takes morning walks
its necessary, he prompts to enjoy
each day like your last
however don't indulge too fast
flowers will wait for you.


This next one was sprawled next to a picture of a very crude, potato squiggled looking spider crab thing with lonely eyes.
- I am disproportionate
but not broken
my mother says waddling is a stylistically endeavored trait


I think I really struck gold with that last one.