Kaitie. (:

save_this_night @ 2009-11-24T13:54:00

2009-11-24T18:54:23Z

I am incrediably happy.

On Friday, Brian and I are purchasing our plane tickets to Norway for Inferno Festival. And next week, I'm going to start filling out the papers and talking to people about interning in Bamburg, Germany over the summer, and/or maybe next fall.

Ebay is really an amazing thing. From November 2nd to today, I've made 153.88. That means I've made between $375 and $400 from ebay/half.com since August from about 20 items. I know that, compared to the price I paid when I was buying the stuff forever ago, that isn't very much. But considering what it would have gone for if I had sold it at a yard sale, I did damn good.

I've settled on what I'm going to get my history degree in: Prehistoric, Ancient, and Medieval European Studies. I can't do it here because there aren't enough courses in any of the areas to constitute an emphasis, but I'm sure I could find a grad and/or doctoral program. I want to focus on Celtic and Scandinavian/Viking cultures, considering 1. they have a fucking incrediable history and 2. they're pretty important in understanding history, but no one ever pays any attention to them. Hence the fact that we have no classes on either culture, and why Books-A-Million has less than 10 books about both cultures combined (although there are dozens each on Egypt, Roman, and China).

I have my tattoo designed (in my head)! I'm going to sketch it out on paper this weekend, and I would like to get it before Christmas.

I am also started making this absolutely fucking beautiful dress last night. All of it is made out of dupioni silk. At the moment, it's "plain" very pale teal and strapless with a sweetheart bustline, has an empire cut but it's rather fitted through the waist before it billows out into a full skirt. When it's done, it will have about a 6" thick border of dark red, milky brown, and a dusky gold/sand/brown very intricate knotwork that I am tatting myself. It will also have a finer patch of knotwork following the curve of the sweetheart bustline that ends in a triangle between the boobs and extends off of the bodice to form a straps that can be tied behind the neck or attached with buttons to the back of the dress to form normal spaghetti-straps. Except they will be knotwork! I'm very excited for it, and hope to have it finished within reason by Sunday. The actual dress is already finished, but I have to buy some things before I can start weaving the knotwork. It is certainly going to take a looong time.

save_this_night @ 2009-11-12T22:12:00

2009-11-13T03:12:08Z

I honestly think that I could be okay with listening to nothing but Eluveitie for the rest of the forseeable future. I honestly have never loved a band, or a particular song or even genre half as much as I love them. I am prone to exaggeration, I admit, but I'm really not this time. Holy dick. And they are just as amazing live as they are on albums.

save_this_night @ 2009-11-08T22:08:00

2009-11-09T03:43:35Z

I had a very, very amazing weekend.

I arrived at Brian's in Aliquippa shortly before 2, and then we headed off to Cleveland. It was a pleasant drive--good weather, no construction and average traffic. We got to our hotel (the Marriott) sometime between 3:30 and 4, and discovered that we've been upgraded, apparently. So, for $100 we got this gigaaaantic suite. Like. It's huge. And very beautiful. So, before concert #1 we run out and get some dinner and then head to the House of Blues which is literally a block away from our hotel. So nice.

Line up for the first concert was Hate Eternal, Born of Osiris, Unearth, Cannibal Corpse, and Hatebreed. I really wish Hate Eternal had played more songs, because I really dug them. Born of Osiris sucked, Unearth was pretty good--I liked their music, but didn't like them. And Cannibal Corpse was very good. We didn't stay to see Hatebreed because neither of us are into them. We went back to the hotel for a moment and then headed back over to the House of Blues to meet the bands after the show. We ended up meeting Corpse Grinder (one word? Two? Spelling correct? I hate no idea), and Brian got his autograph, so it was sort of worth standing in the cold for forever, haha.

Here's the great part. So, we had planned on going to this bar a few blocks farther down the street, but I had left my coat in the hotel room. In most hotels, that wouldn't be a problem, but to get to our room we had to walk through the hotel for literally 5 mintues. So, that sort of sucked. But, instead we went to this Irish pub right next to the hotel that was playing some nice blues stuff. We got beer (he picked out something for me to drink, and it was actually very good), and were just talking when one of the other members of Cannibal Corpse walks in. Long story short, Brian ends up doing a triple shot of Jäger with the guy. He's just giddy, smiling like a schoolboy. So, we're back at our table and he's all glowing, and he vows that he'll do shots with every one of the Corpse guys who ends up at the pub.  I had just proceeded to cover his eyes jokingly as he stared at the door just WAITING,  when another member of Corpse comes in. Thankfully, the guy wasn't a shot-sort-of-guy, so Brian was spared having to do another, as he was already quite buzzed by that point.

So, around midnight, as no one else came in, we headed back up to the room and crashed. Or, sort-of crashed, as our bed was incrediably uncomfortable so we were both sort of in-and-out of sleep the entire night. We get up at noon, are informed that we need to be out by 1:30 (we had planned on staying in the room until 6 :/ ), and then we pack up and go to this awesome little restaurant in Lakeside. He found it by looking on the Food Network's website or something; I guess it's supposed to be featured on one of the TV shows. We waited for a bit over an hour for a seat--and we end up sitting at the bar because it was first-come, first-serve--but oh. my. lord. was it worth the wait. They specialize in grilled cheese sandwiches, and Sweetbabyjesuswasitgood.

We mill around the town for a bit and plan our trip to--wait for it--Norway. We're going to Norway over Easter, apparently, haha.   The Inferno Festival, which has a very amazing line up so far. It'll cost a bit less than $1300 including airfair, 5 days hotel, food, tickets to 45 concerts, etc.

Anyway. Theeeeeeeeeeeeeen we go to Heathefest, which might have been the highlight of my concert-going life. Hammer Horde (which is a band from Toledo of kids I'm faiiiirrrrly sure are younger than me, but FUCKING EPIC AS HEL(other L optional)!) , Vreid, Alestorm, Belphegor, and ELUVEITIE. And some other band that really sucked, but we were in the other room. Oh. My. God. was it good. Vreid was very all-about Norway, Alestorm was just pure Scottish pirate magic and glee (they opened with the phrase SHOW US YOUR TITS, CLEVELAND!), Belphegor really almost succeeded in ripping my face off (could be the fact that I was literally sitting on the stage at this point. Could not get better "seats"), but Brian ruined them for me because he brought to my attention that the singer's speaking voice sounded like Fozzy Bear from the Muppets. He and the guy squeezed in with us started doing Fozzy Bear/Cookie Monster impressions and I just couldn't handle it. Every time I'd turn around to look at him he'd just start doing impressions and making faces, and I was done.

Then there was Eluveitie. My love for that band is endless. Just.

Okay. On the fairly small stage, they had a bagpiper/floutist, violinist, two guitarists, a bassist, a hurdy-gurdy player, the drummer with a full set, and then the vocalist. All headbanging and jumping around. And it was really like a musical orgasm. I'm sorry, but growling vocals and a hurdy-gurdy and bagpipes cannot fail. Cannot. An impossibility. And at the end I got the lead guitarist's pick, haha. Thank God for Brian being ridiculously tall.

Then we drove home. I got back to my house around 5:20, and was definitely asleep by 5:25.

This weekend was just magical. Except for today, but there's no point in ruining a happy update. Yay!

save_this_night @ 2009-11-02T21:50:00

2009-11-03T03:19:19Z

This is going to be a good year.

For whomever doesn't really know my system of beliefs, etc., yesterday was the traditional New Year. I don't see it as a new calendar year, such as Jan. 1, but a sort of spiritual new year. A time of cleansing and rebirth, etc. I have a very huge list of things to "accomplish" for this coming year. I feel very good about it at the moment, for a huge number of reasons. I think, most importantly, at this moment in life I am probably the closest I've ever been to being 100% comfortable in myself.

I am very happy with everything in life.   I have a good job, I am a student in two programs that I thoroughly love. I am the costume designer for one full play, a Faculty-Choreographed dance in this year's dance show, and the props mistress/master/supervisor/whatever for a play in Wheeling. I have earned a really amazing amount of respect in the theatre department, and have a lot of people working hard to help me get scholarships and internships, I am more artistically mature and inspired than I have ever been; the amount of progress I have made since August is astounding, and many people have noticed.

I feel very at home with myself spiritually and physically, and have finally sort of overcome my desire to please or impress everyone. I love how I dress, and the fact that other people love it, too, is an excellent sidenote. I think people around me have begun to notice how happy I've been. I get a lot of comments from strangers and acquaintances about my energy and talent, which really surprises me. I went to Wheeling with my wife for the play-thing and met her family for the first time. Her dad mentioned within an hour or so of meeting me about how many gifts I had, which really caught me off guard, as I hadn't done anything to warrant the comment. Also, Jana said something about how she actually changed what clothes she was wearing before she came to pick me up because, as she said, knew I was "going to look cute, because she always does, so I couldn't let her be the only one."   That really surprised me as well, because Jana isn't really the type to give compliments or make statements like that lightly.

And people, particularly guys, are starting to act differently towards me, just out in the world. I get a lot of guys going out of their way to do things for me, or being exceptionally eager to assist me, or give me unmerited discounts, etc. And a lot less attention in the way of, "Lemme get yo numba," or "hey sexah thang." More "positive," less overtly sexual stuff. Definitely unexpected, and I honestly don't know what has caused this very sudden change.

Anyway. In lieu of the New Year, I have begun fasting. In high school I was so regular with it and various other aspects of my spiritual life that I really regret letting myself slip. Thinking back, it doesn't surprise me that, the time after I had begun to sort of stray from my little rituals was the beginning of the most troubling point in my life. Hopefully, getting everything back on track now and really getting back to the roots of my personal beliefs will usher in a new, clean era of life. I allow myself one "meal" a day, eaten sometime in the afternoon, with only water in between. Meals usually consist of a slice of bread and cheese, or something similar--something small.   I will break it on Friday, which is hopefully going to be the beginning of a very awesome weekend, and maaaaaaybe the beginning of something quite unexpected. I will update more on that later.

I officially weigh less than I did my junior year of high school. And I'm over 3/5ths of the way to my first "goal" weight. Which means, in 19 pounds, I will be ready to allow myself to seriously plan out my tattoo.   Also, one of my friends is investigating new haircuts for me. :O  I miiiiiight get all of my hair cut off, but I'm really not sure. Again, I don't want to do it until I reach the first goal.

(:

save_this_night @ 2009-10-24T00:00:00

2009-10-24T04:20:54Z

I completed two paintings today! You can see one of the paintings beneath the cut. Sorry for the fuzzyness; taken with my camera phone.

And I lost two pounds today!

And I bought a bunch of leather corsets/girdles and fur pieces from the Costume shop! And a sari, and a really awesome skirt. And a bunch of other shit. For $22 total!

I am getting very close to my goal weight for the tattoo-getting-ness. I am quite excited. Now I just have to refine the design a bit more, and lose the next few pounds and I AM READDDYYY. :D Thirty down, twenty to go! Then, after the next 50, I will probably get another tattoo. And then I'll be my ideal weight. :D

I am very happy with life right now. I will update further when I am less cracked out on meds for all the crazy spasms I've been having lately.

save_this_night @ 2009-10-20T18:27:00

2009-10-20T22:29:04Z

From a legal standpoint, the next 5 hours and 45 minutes are the last moments of my childhood.

At midnight, I will be 21.

21 years without a single use of drugs of any sort outside of medicine, 21 years without a single moment of drunkenness, 21 years of reasonable virginity, 21 years without a felony, misdemeanor, detention, pink slip, or even a real half-serious reprimand of any sort, from a legal or parental body.

50 years ago, I would have been a Godsend. 150 years ago, a spinster. Now, am I an anomaly?

So many people, on their 21^st birthday, celebrate their real acceptance into the world of “adulthood.” How many people mourn the loss of a childhood?

All of this is theoretical, of course, as birthdays do not determine adulthood or childhood, or even the actions of most people on the following days.

Should this be considered a “new year”? A potential new beginning, a time for resolutions and good tidings and cheer? Or should it be just another day? Or somewhere in between? Is it different than any other birthday, really? Or any other day for that matter? At midnight, will I become an “adult”? Should I become an adult? Should it, or will it matter? Probably not.

save_this_night @ 2009-10-13T13:04:00

2009-10-13T17:16:34Z

Taking time out of studying for Latin, I have just a quick little rant.

Why. The. Fuck. Does. It. Matter. What. Size. Models. Are.

Yes, there are skinny models. Yes, there are models who may be too skinny. And, yes, some plus-size models may not seem adequately "plus-size" to the average heavier woman. But why the fuck are there so many articles and so much controversy over the subject of weight?

While I do not necessarily agree with the entirety of the article, I think Karl Lagerfeld puts it fucking beautifully: The fashion industry is about "dreams and illusions" and I don't think anyone can disagree with that statement without a very long, thoughtful retort. The industry is about the dreams and illusions of designers. People do not buy what goes down the runway, and, for the most part, clothing that is made to be sold is exhibited on models who are not unhealthily thin (or fat, for that matter). You do not see ads for Penneys, Kohls, or the Gap that include women so thin their ribs stick out, nor do you see women who are so fat that they jiggle. They are women who are healthy, even if they may be slightly smaller or larger than the average female. They fit into the sizes that are sold at the stores.

SO WHY THE FUCK DOES IT MATTER. If models want to be the weight they are, then let them be! If they choose to accept the critique of designers who call them too fat and diet themselves to hell, then let them. There are hundreds of examples where models who have been critiqued in such a manner simply go to another designer. It's not like they do not have choices. And the ones who stay with the offending designer are doing it of their own choice. It does not matter what people sitting at home on couches think about the weight of models. They are not, and probably never have been or will be, part of the industry.

Done.

save_this_night @ 2009-10-10T01:32:00

2009-10-10T05:32:40Z

Existing is a very strange activity.

save_this_night @ 2009-09-27T04:03:00

2009-09-27T08:09:23Z

Sometimes, the only thing we really need is a long walk in the rain in the company of someone who was, at the beginning of the day, almost a stranger. I will never cease to be amazed by how much we can learn about ourselves from people who, in all reality, do not know us at all, and by how much of ourselves remains hidden from those around us for whom we care most.

I already miss summertime.

save_this_night @ 2009-09-18T22:33:00

2009-09-19T03:23:21Z

You know how some days just suck and seem to drag on forever, for no apparent reason? Today's definitely been one of those days. Granted, I've gotten a good amount of stuff accomplished, and hopefully all of this time-nonsense will play to my advantage tonight painting, but holy dick, guys. Just holy dick.

So, as of three days ago I'd lost 26 lbs since July 22nd. In the past three days I've managed to SOMEHOW gain 5 lbs back. This is the first time in that period that I've gained anything. I am about a month late for my period and a bit more emotional than usual (norly), so hopefully that's the reason. I usually gain between 10 and 20 pounds (wtfinorite) every time my uterus decides it's time to strip down to its skivvies. That is pretty ridiculous in itself, but hey. I don't have a problem losing it again, at least not that I've noticed.

Also, this past week I've been mysteriously and quite seriously ill. I was perfectly fine all last week and weekend--perkier than usual, if I might add--and almost all day Sunday. In the middle of shopping with Jess in Clarksburg I started to feel a bit peculiar, but I figured it was just the huge salad I had eaten at dinner catching up with me. By that night I was shaking really badly, extremely nauseated, dizzy--the whole nine yards and then some.   When I still wasn't asleep and/or feeling better by about 2 am, I emailed my teachers and told them I wouldn't be in class that day because I was sick.   After staying in bed all day and sleeping throughout the night, I was very surprised that I was feeling even worse the next morning. I stayed up awhile to see if maybe it was just sleep still clinging, but after a shower and a bowl of cereal I still wasn't feeling any better. So I went back to bed for a few hours, then woke up, sat around a bit and had another shower, and then took myself to the doctor.

That was quite the experience.

So, after working on homework in the reception area for about 45 minutes, I finally get called back. I note, to my disdain, that I've gained 2 lbs back and that my heart rate is very high, at least for me. It was something like 125/81, where as mine is usually around 110/65-70.   I'm no expert on the cardiovascular system, but I think that's suprisingly low for someone with my energy level. I am quite active and all of that stuff, even when sitting. Easily excitable, I suppose, but anyway.

So, I am taken into the room and wait for another twenty minutes or so, and the doctor comes in (I heard him immediately before entering my room [I don't think the doctors there realize how thin the walls are, because you can hear everything in the surrounding area clearly] making fun of my name; I don't think you need to ask how I know it was my name he was joking about). By this point, I had been out of bed longer than I had been in 36 hours and felt like I was going to pass out. So, he asks me the general questions, and as the check-up went on I could tell he was getting sort of more and more concerned (or perplexed, rather). By the end, he determines that they have to do several blood tests-- six, to be exact. Two for viruses that I've never heard of, one for anemia, one for thyroid issues, and I wasn't told what the others were for. Or, if I was, I can't recall because I thought I was going to fucking die.

Anyway. So, I wait a long time for the nurse to come in and take my blood. When he does enter, he is very nice and, I could tell, very experienced in the art of giving blood (and I'm not joking or being spiteful when I say that), but he forgot a variety of essentials and had to leave the room several times. By the time he had everything, a good ten minutes after his arrival, I was feeling a little bit better. He goes through the normal procedures: ties off the upper right arm with the rubber ribbon-thing, rubs with alcohol, taps the area where my fore- and upper-arm meet, and very gently slides the needle into my vein. No blood. He adjusts the needle, pushing it in a little farther and then pulling it out a bit, and still no blood.

Okay, that's a little strange. Usually I have very sensitive veins and even the slightest movement has me writhing, but I didn't feel anything. It could be the fact that the band on my upper arm was so tight that I was literally almost crying. Like, I have never tried so hard in my entire life to keep from crying. And this is one of the very few times that something has caused me so much pain that I've cried (periods aside, because that's entirely different although my crying usually is more because of pain than emotional shit). He takes off the band and waits, and still no blood.

He goes and tries the same area on the other arm. Same thing--no blood. The top of my left hand, after banding off the top of my forearm, and still no blood. Mr. Malenurse was getting a little concerned by this point. He said several times that he had never had this happen before, and I admitted as well that I am usually a really good bleeder, which I am, both in the giving of the blood and the shedding of the blood. So, he finally hits a well on the top of my right hand, but it barely barely barely gives enough blood for all of the vials.  None of them were half-full, but he said he thought that should be enough.

Where did/has all of my blood gone? Four veins. FOUR. And still barely enough blood to fill six vials less than half full.

So, the doctor comes back and tells me that it will take a few days to process the blood work, and that they'd let me know asap. And then they checked my blood sugar just in case. It was 103, but I neglected to tell the nurse that I hadn't eaten in over 24 hours because I wanted the fuck out of there.   I don't know too much about blood sugar except measuring it after meals, but that seems a pretty safe level to me considering how our bodies can supply sugar when there is a lack of it, etc.

I go home and crash for a bit, then I believe that was the night I went to Jess and Jodi's for dinner, which was very tasty indeed. Went to class the next day feeling absolutely spectacular in the morning, but, while shopping for books after class I suddenly felt worse than I had the previous three days and went home and laid down, read, and slept for many hours. Thursday was okay, and today hasn't been too bad, just the fact that I am tired beyond all natural reasoning.

I still haven't heard back from the doctor. I really hope I do by Tuesday because I'd like to know what the fuck is wrong and if I need medication for it. I've been tested for both anemia and various thyroid malfunctions before (at least twice each), and have never had any problems. The anemia would explain the random shaking spells I've been having, which was/is the symptom that worries me most. I didn't have any today, and I am fairly sure I didn't yesterday, either (but I was so out of it I'm not really sure what happened yesterday at all), but they were so bad the days before that I could not type or hold anything in my hands--the main reasons why I didn't go to class. They were random and very sudden, and didn't last very long, but they were some of the most terrifying bodily experiences of my life, and I've had quite a few.   I've gone through a list of plausible things that could have caused them, but none of them stand out: I have had more caffeine than usual within the past week, but it has not exceeded four glasses over the week time frame. I have been sleeping moderately well for me, and also I really think that if the medicine I was on was the cause I would have had them sooner. I've been on the phentermine since July 22nd, and the shaking didn't begin until somewhere around September 14th, I don't think that's the issue. I haven't taken any muscle relaxers for about a month because my muscle spasms haven't been bad. I'm on the same bed with the same pillows, and have been sleeping in the same positions, so my muscles should be as rested as they usually are. I just don't know.

Also, the places on my arms where I was stabbed for blood are incrediably bruised. I do deeply believe that the nurse was a good nurse and didn't fuck anything up. I've had nurses rip my veins, stab my veins, wiggle my veins, and, TRUST ME, you know when someone is fucking up. And they aren't normal bruises, either--they're excruciatingly tender and very strange coloured (mine tend to be painless even if I poke them hard and usually are blue, then purple, then yellow; these started black, then went to green, and now they are very mottled green red and purple). You can't even tell where the needles were inserted, either, which proves to me that he was good and didn't mess up.

Another curious thing I just thought of: my lips are really prone to being dry and cracking and bleeding, which is part of the reason why I almost always wear lipstick or lip gloss, or something of the nature. The other day I neglected to put make up on at all and my lip cracked really badly (like, omg, there was a cavern in my lip), and it didn't bleed at all. Not even a tiny bit. My grandfather, father, sister, and I are all chronically dehydrated, but I am certain I am not dehydrated enough to cause my blood to do this. I'd be dead if it was dehydration, without a doubt.

SO YES. Who knows what's up. I'm not terribly worried because, if it were something very serious, I don't think I'd be able to even sit up right now considering how unbelievably weak I was on Tuesday, and even Wednesday afternoon. I've done a ton of shit today, like cleaning my entire fucking apartment until it shines. Quite literaly--my floors are fucking shiny, goddamn it, and I like it. It won't last the weekend, but it's nice now.

And, with that, I am going to go watch movies and paint until my sister & company decide to return to my apartment. God knows when that will be.

save_this_night @ 2009-09-03T22:28:00

2009-09-04T02:46:23Z

Super short update, because I don't like how it says "Last updated 2 weeks ago" on my homepage.

1. Opened an art exhibit in downtown Charleston. It is, in theory, a permanent exhibit, but I will be changing out the pieces monthly. Sold a piece of art on the exhibit to the owner of the store as soon as he saw it, so that's exciting. The rest of it is running for around $125 a piece.
2. Going to be making clothes to sell in the store with the exhibit. Yay.
3. Sold a ton of shit online.
4. Classes are excellent. The professor for my "The Old South" course is so vehement and enthusiastic (in the good and bad way) about the class. It's very interesting, and we've already watched clips from Gone with the Wind and The New World.   In the four classes we've had, I've already learned a considerable amount, and that's sort of astonishing considering how much I know about pre-1900 American History already.
5. The costume design course I'm taking has reaffirmed my belief that this is what I'm meant to do.   I love it, and it is the perfect combination of my favourite things: fashion, history, and art. Music doesn't quite come into play literally, but its influence on designing can be undeniable as an influence and motif. And, of course, theatre. I'm really advanced in the drawing portion of the class, even though there are two grad students, and everyone else is my grade or above. That's one thing that sort of confuses me: How do people go into costume design if they earnestly--AND SELF-ADMITTEDLY--cannot draw?   Maybe there's something I'm missing. Going into costuming in general I can understand, considering cutters/drapers need no drawing ability. But designers do. Oh well!
6. I love Latin. I'm so glad there is a Latin program here. It's amazing what just reading over a few lessons will bring back. I haven't had a Latin course since my sophomore year in HS (and I'm a college Junior), and I can still read over 50% of our text. I'm very pleased. (:  I have sort of kept up with it vocabulary-wise over the years, but certainly not grammar. But it's still there, apparently, haha. Amo linguam Latinam! (:
7. I've lost something like 22 lbs since July 22nd.
8. I'm the designer for a show this year!  Granted, it's not actually being put on by WVU, but it's definitely affiliated. It's a children's musical version of The Jungle Book. It isn't Disneys, but apparently it is quite similar. Lots of animal characters and whatnot. I know a ton of the actors from where I did costumes last year, so that's good. (:  I'm very excited. My very first show that's all my own!

I'm going to fall asleep! Goodnight!

save_this_night @ 2009-08-15T01:13:00

2009-08-15T05:56:12Z

Overall, I think it has been a pretty good week.

Last Saturday, I drove to Charleston (again) to go to my grandparents' house with my dad. It was grandpa's birthday, and one of my aunts and my favourite uncle came down from Ohio. Well, as it is my paternal family, 4.5/6 of us were drunk. It was enjoyable, though. Got to spend time with my Grandpa and Uncle Jerry, who is an uncle by marriage, but my fucking favourite family member EVEEEEEER. He's awesome beyond reason. I learned quite a bit (as did most of the rest of the people there):
1. Mr. Napolean Bonaparte is a cousin of mine, apparently. A rather distant cousin, but we're still actually blood-related.
2. I'm German!  Apparently, my grandmother (who was extremely French [or so we thought]. If I knew how to spell her maiden name, you'd understand)'s family migrated from France to Germany and lived there for a few generations before heading over here. My dad is the one who knew this, which surprised me a lot.
3. I thought I was the only one in the family who knew that we were Manx and not really Irish. Much to my surprise, my grandpa knew as well! A lot of the stuff I'd researched I didn't know for sure, but he verified a bunch of it which makes me really happy. My dad knew because I told him awhile back when I was looking it all up. So, now I know for sure exactly when my family came over here, and exactly which members were the ones who came over, etc etc. And I can actually trace my Looney/Luanaigh family from the Isle of Man to my sister and I without skipping any generations. I don't know how many people can say that. :P

Then I had a dentist appointment Monday or Tuesday, and found out that the tooth that I've had problems with since day 1 had chipped a little, and two of my other teeth were sort of strange. Now, considering that I didn't have any cavities or anything absolutely terrible and it had been over 2 years since I last visited the dentist, this is pretty exciting news. A little backstory on the tooth that's been weird forever: Back in the day, Chelsea and I had these seals put on our back teeth to prevent cavities. Well, I guess the dentist messed up or something, because bacteria ended up getting trapped beneath the sealant and resulted in a cavity. My only cavity, and it wasnt' even my fault at all (even the dentist said that). Last time I went for a cleaning, I found out that the same tooth had some pretty rare "deformity" which made the enamel a slightly darker colour. It's not anything bad or destructive, just curious and rare. Now, part of the filling on the cavity had apparently come loose and chipped the tooth a little bit, which isn't surprising since I've had the filling since elementary school. So, I had to go back on Thursday and get the problem tooth fixed, plus the other two. Lots of horrible dentist noises and terrible machines later, my mouth is fixed and peachy!   I'm very thankful that I take good care of my teeth. Hooray!

Got extremely sick sometime on Wednesday. Like, I couldn't move, see, etc. and I was shaking and feverish. It got a little better on Thursday, but this morning I was much worse again. It was awful. Mum and I did some errands today, and she said that the longer I was out the paler I got. :/ That's saying something considering how pale I am anyway. I rested a little when we got home, and then decided I had enough energy to finally haul myself home to Motown. It's amazing how a three day trip turns into a week long trip. :/

Because of the sickness and various other things, I've worked mayyyybbbeeeeee 6 hours this week. (Compared to the 57 I worked last week, this isn't good at all). But, I'm going to make up for it tomorrow! I'm running all over (literaly) the Northern part of WV to take pictures of our various projects for my mother. I calculated the milage when I was mapquesting all of the directions and it comes to something like 450 miles all together, not including me getting lost and whatnot. It'll be a 9 hour driving excursion! So, 9 hours = $90, and 450 miles = $225. So, tomorrow I'll be making AT LEAST $315. I could make it a two-day excursion, which would mean a ton more money (like... probably $200 more), but I don't know if I want to do that yet. Deppeeeeenndssss.   I really love this aspect of my job. (:

I bought a lot of new and wonderful fabric this week!  I'm very excited. Considering I don't even have my shop ~officially~ set up yet, I've already made quite a bit of money: $60! I sold a skirt from my wardrobe on ebay, I hemmed a dress for Megan, and then Megan and I went fabric shopping and she picked out stuff for a skirt. It's probably one of the more complicated pieces I've made by myself, and I am very happy with it. It's a sheer, dark green chiffon with black velvet flowers over black lining, with two layers of lace running around the skirt, one at the very hem, and another a few inches above it. And a very, very teeny tiny elastic waist. We're talking 1/8 of an inch elastic. o_o; Anyway, there were lots of things that could have been potentially troublesome about the skirt:
1. sheer fabrics get torn/caught by the needle very easily;
2. making the top layer and lining even;
3. getting the tiny elastic into its casing; and
4. making sure the two lines of lace were evenly spaced, which was harder than normal because they were two different laces.

But it went off without a hitch, and she digs it. So, hooray!  My first actual commission by a paying customer. Let's just hope once I open up shop for real everything goes as smoothly!  All I have to do is find some models now/wait for the models I have to return to Morgantown, and everything will be ready to go. (:

save_this_night @ 2009-08-12T01:38:00

2009-08-12T05:38:37Z

So, I’ve decided to double major in History and Theatre. And get my Masters in both. And my Doctorate in both.

If I got just my Theatre degree, I would be 49 hours away from graduation at the end of the fall semester.

If I got just my History degree, I would be 43 hours away from graduation at the end of the fall semester.

If I got my degrees in BOTH, I’d be 56 hours away.

13 hours difference? I think staying an extra semester is damn worth it. Especially since it takes the average student 5 years/10 semesters to get just one degree. It will take me 9 semesters to get 2 degrees. Maybe 8, who knows. Anyway, only 5 semesters left in undergrad either way. I’m quite pleased, especially since, when I was making up my schedule last night I took scheduling conflicts into consideration as well. I’m something like 10 hours away from having a Music minor as well, but I don’t think it’s worth it, for me.

I’ve definitely been keeping up with the Rockabillyness as much as I can. I’ve worn my hair in a 40s/50s style everyday for… two weeks? Maybe three, who knows for sure. It’s exciting. Also, I’ve done my makeup everyday as well. I usually wear at least something everyday, but this has been the full thing. The number of compliments I’ve gotten has gone up exponentially. So, it’s nice. Obviously other people like it, and I like it, so I think it’s a good decision. (:

I’m ridiculously tired, so I’m going to beddddd. Goodnight!

save_this_night @ 2009-08-07T13:04:00

2009-08-07T17:01:45Z

I think that it could logically and reasonably be argued that, from a historical/psychological stand point, fashion has been bred into women.

Next time I have to write an opinon essay with a free topic, that might be my topic. Hm.

save_this_night @ 2009-08-04T11:29:00

2009-08-04T15:54:51Z

Let’s see. What’s been going on lately. I have a feeling this is going to be a loooong entry.

Well, I finally opened up a shop on Ebay (hahahaha) to sell some of my clothes. Like, stuff out of my closet, not stuff I’ve made. I was cleaning over the weekend and finally became just fed up with not having enough room for all of my clothes. Seriously, I have a pretty large closet, a 5-7 foot long rolling clothing rack, two garbage bags, a large Tupperware container, and a huge suitcase filled. Oh, and a four-drawer dresser. And two laundry baskets. OH AND ANOTHER TUPPERWARE CONTAINER BACK IN CHARLESTON. That’s a lot of clothes. So, in a fit of cleaning rage, I pulled out a good third of my closet and threw them into a trunk labeled “To Sell.” OH—Let me say that last month, I gave two garbage bags full of clothes to a certain Danielle Thomas (do those bags still exist? I know you can’t wear all of those, you skinny ho you, :P ). I know that I have enough clothes to wear a completely unique outfit (shoes included) for three months straight. That means not wearing the same shirt, skirt, shoes, or dress twice. That’s not saying that all of the outfits will match or look nice, but still.

To be fair, a lot of the items I’ve had for several years—I recently rediscovered my love for a dress I bought in Austria in 2006. That dress is over three years old now. My shoes, especially, I’ve had for a long time. There are definitely some pairs I’ve had since middle school, since my feet/height haven’t changed since late elementary school. Usually, I just give away my clothes. Two-six garbage bags a year to various charities and things like Salvation Army and Union Mission. Well, as I am become more money conscientious in my old age, I’ve been looking for ways to make a little extra cash lately. After Googling, just about every list of suggestions out there include selling things on Ebay. One of my neighbours back home makes a pretty good sum of money Ebaying and such, so why not give it a try. So, yeah. I’m attempting. Any suggestions on how to make items more appealing to customers? Almost all of the stuff I have up are new without tags—stuff I’ve never worn (unfortunately, my closet has many of those sorts of things).

Speaking of shops, I am seriously going to attempt to open an Etsy shop before school, depending on how soon I can find models. I already have two volunteers, but neither will be available until school begins. That’s not a problem, of course; it gives me more time to make things. If anyone else is interested AND available before the 24^th, or if you know anyone interested, let me know. Preferably plus-size, curvy girls. I’ll take anyone, but the heavier the better. Size 16-24 are the best. I might attempt to put some art and jewelry up on Etsy as well, since you can sell just about anything on there.

While I’m on the topic of clothing and whatnot, I’ve decided what style I’m going to attempt to pursue once I’ve finished this part of my diet: Rockabilly! Hopefully, if everything goes well, I’m aiming to lose 50 pounds before my birthday. I’m not really sure how the diet is going so far. I went to the doctor on July 17^th, and I think got the prescription for diet pills filled on the 22^nd. I’ve lost 10 pounds for sure so far—maybe 15. I don’t trust my scale. I know that I’ve always been really up and down with my weight (in a small amount—I can lose or gain 5 pounds in a day or two), but my scale tells me that I’ve gained 5 pounds in a day when I’ve consumed less than 500 calories. I think that’s a little shady. The pills are definitely an appetite suppressant on top of a metabolism booster, which makes for interesting times considering I really didn’t eat that much before. I’ve consumed less than 1000 calories since Sunday, definitely. Unfortunately, they also make me not want to drink, which has been really not good. The first few days on the pills were a nightmare. The weekend of the 25^th, I was so incredibly sick—I also think that I was ill outside of the medicine, because my grandma had the same symptoms as well and I was in Charleston. I think I drank maybe 8 oz of water total for three or four days. Considering how much I typically drink (6-8 bottles of water a day), that was extreme. My tongue was swollen, I was perpetually tired, and it was just awful. I could barely talk. But all of that’s over! I’m still having problems talking, haha, but I’ve gone through periods like this for many years, since the car wreck, so it may have nothing to do with the diet.

Anyway, back to Rockabilly and things I’m going to do after the first 50 lbs. Yes. Well, underneath all of this fat I have a very teeny waist and very big hips. A semi-commonly known fact: When I lay down, you can see my hip bones. So, my hips themselves are actually almost as big as they are right now. And I have a 36” waist. 58” hips, 36” waist. My waist, at this moment in time WITH all of the fat, is almost half the circumference of my hips. And I’m not even corset trained! It’s going to be crazy to look at my silhouette after 50lbs are gone, much less the 100lbs I hope to lose before next summer. I was looking for new hairstyles the other day, and I’ve always been really attracted to 1950s fashion, so I youtubed some tutorials and what not. One thing lead to another, and I ended up renewing my love for rockabilly fashion. Here are some samples of what I’m aiming for:

After the first 50 while I'm still heavy, stuff like this. (:

Eventually, if I lose enough, like this.

You can see why this style might appeal to someone with my body shape.

Also, after the first 50lbs, Mum and I are going to get our tattoos! And she’s going to stop smoking. We’re having a race—she thinks she can quit smoking before I lose 50lbs. I don’t think so. She hasn’t even begun, and I’m already 1/5 or more of the way towards my goal. (: I hope she does stop—everyone will be so much healthier because of it.

After a year of hell for my poor little Marco, he has been given practically a new life! Let’s see, everything that’s been replaced on him within the last 6 months: tires, brakes, alternator, battery, bumper, various fluids, all holes and scratches patched and painted. Everything on the inside, in reference to the engine and whatnot, are still peachy. 11 years old, and I recently hit 138,000 miles. He may be an antique, but he’s still going strong. (: Yay! Here’s to hoping all of the hospital trips he’s made this year will keep him out of the hospital for another two!

Ireland, Ireland, Ireland. I really want to go. I already have 1/3 of the plane ticket’s price saved up, which is excellent. I want to buy the ticket before school starts. I need to find someone who is willing to go with me first, though. William says he’d love to go with me, and he says he can save up the money no problem, so I really hope that he pulls through. I told him that I’d go to India with him when the time comes if he comes with me, haha. (: I don’t think there is anything in the entire world that I want more or have wanted longer than to go to Ireland. Honestly, it and its culture and history are one of the very first things I can remember being fascinated by, outside of horses and clothing. I don’t know how many books I’ve read about it, set in it, or concerning its mythology or history—more than I’ve read on any other subject or genre combined. Obsession, I think, might be a good word to describe my fascination, haha.

Mum doesn’t want me to go, at least not alone—she says I’ll have plenty of other opportunities to go later in life. But what if that’s not true? I mean, honestly, how many adults do we know that say, “I really wanted to travel when I was young, but things just caught up with me and I never went”? Everybody knows at least one person like that. I think traveling is the single thing I am most ambitious AND consistently active about, if that makes sense. I’m an ambitious person, but too often I lack the action behind my desires (see the clothing line, art competition, and art gallery exhibition I was SO insistent upon entering within the last few months that don’t exist). I can honestly say I’m not action-less when it comes to traveling.

It’s all about learning and exploring and discovering who we are and where we’re supposed to be, and experiencing worlds outside of our own. I think that’s what life’s about, or at least mine anyway. Growing through feeling and knowing things firsthand. When it comes down to it, in the long run, it’s not about the clothes we wear, the art we make, or even the places we’ve seen. Those are all too concrete in themselves, and maybe we will outlive all of them, physically or otherwise. It’s about the culmination of experiences all of those things create, and the way they blend together to form an individual being. When the clothes we have owned are tattered and faded, when our art is dust, and great cities and nations are nothing but wasteland, the people who have known and loved them will still be alive. And how can we possibly pass on our knowledge to the future if we have not experienced what is in the present, and in the past?

I can’t possibly hope to express that to her. I love her to death, I really do, but it just isn’t possible to tell her things like that. It could be the fact that I’m awful at stating anything aloud, much less my feelings. And it seems silly to write her a letter or an email outlining all the reasons why I need to go to Ireland now. It’s a silly sort of fear I have, apparently. I always feel so ridiculous stating any of my feelings or thoughts to anyone because I know how stupid and air-headed I sound most of the time. I think that anything substantial I have to say will be brushed off as feigned depth—and I know that my fear is not unfounded because I’ve had this happen several times before, with a good variety of people. I’m not as shallow or thoughtless as I come off to be, and when I say things like this I feel like I’m futilely trying to convince the world of something I’m not even sure I believe. It’s been so long since I’ve really had a friend to whom I can divulge absolutely everything. That’s not saying that I feel like I can’t share myself with my current friends, but there are just some things you can’t tell just anyone because they won’t understand the way you think, etc. Not like “won’t understand” as in “will disagree with my point of view on a matter, or idea, etc,” but like… “can’t discern the message conveyed because the words don’t make sense coming out.” Erin Chiparo is one of the very very very few people to whom I was able to just say things as I thought them and she understood exactly what I meant, as if they were her own thoughts. It doesn’t help that I think in snippets of pictures and colours and smells rather than words and complete scenes. Sometimes I wish that I could—or would, whatever—think with words, but I’m often very happy that I don’t. When talking to a lot of other people about things we experienced together, most of the time others seem to have a very cut and paste memory. Maybe it’s because of the way I think—or maybe my thoughts of what they remember are completely mistaken—but when I remember things, I can actually sort of relive the moment. If I think about something, most of the time, immediately I can feel being there, and smell it and taste it. Quite literally. It’s like my memory is 4-D where as it seems other people’s are two-dimensional, or three at best. I know several other people who think like I do or who can at least understand, and it’s nice to be understood when I say “this tastes like lime green,” or “this song sounds like where I want my home to be.”

So, yes. I think that’s enough for this entry. :P

save_this_night @ 2009-07-31T23:57:00

2009-08-01T03:58:47Z

xpalmfullofstars (11:53:28 PM): I want to be a man so I can have a bowler and a moustache and wear high waisted pants with a white button up and suspenders.

xpalmfullofstars (11:53:38 PM): And shiny shoes.

xpalmfullofstars (11:53:40 PM): And dance.

xpalmfullofstars (11:54:04 PM): Why am I so strange.

xpalmfullofstars (11:54:05 PM): ;_;

Squeeblemuphin30 (11:54:11 PM): What about a cane?

xpalmfullofstars (11:54:18 PM): I thought about a cane.

xpalmfullofstars (11:54:28 PM): But I think I'd rather stick my hands in my pockets.

Squeeblemuphin30 (11:54:40 PM): Then you at least need a pocket watch

xpalmfullofstars (11:54:43 PM): I'd keep my sleeves rolled up to the elbow.

Squeeblemuphin30 (11:54:49 PM): To twrl while you stroll sometimes

xpalmfullofstars (11:54:57 PM): If I have a watch then I'd need a vest too, maybe.

Squeeblemuphin30 (11:55:13 PM): Do you dislike vests?

Squeeblemuphin30 (11:55:23 PM): You can keep it in your pants (sometimes)

xpalmfullofstars (11:55:27 PM): No, I love vests. But it'd cover up the suspenders.

xpalmfullofstars (11:55:41 PM): could wear it unbuttoned and casual-like.

xpalmfullofstars (11:55:50 PM): I'd be sassy.

save_this_night @ 2009-07-18T02:42:00

2009-07-18T06:53:26Z

Its amazing how quickly good moods can go bad, just for no reason at all.

I miss High School. I miss having a definite group of friends. I miss theatre and Helen. I miss orchestra and all of the wonderful people there.

I want someone to wake up to. I want all my friends to be happy. I want all of my friends to come back to Morgantown (but I don't want classes to start yet).

A boo hoo hoo.

save_this_night @ 2009-07-15T21:42:00

2009-07-16T01:43:24Z

I just had the most amazing dream. It was so incredibly vivid that I had trouble shaking it off after I woke up for a good fifteen minutes. And I'm still not entirely awake, so excuse the roughness of this--but I want to read it again whenever I'm awake tomorrow.

My family and I were in Looneyville, but the farm wasn't the same. My dad was in an apartment complex (more like dormitories in size) in Spencer, and he tried to kill himself again. I knew that he was going to do it, so I knocked on his door and stopped him halfway through. He had made three very thin, two- or three-inch-long vertical cuts into his upper arm near his elbow, and he was bleeding green, purple and red. We wrapped his arm and he was fine. It was springtime, and the farm was so much larger than it is. The basic idea was still the same--there were hills and meadows in the same spots, but they were different looking. Many of the trees had been cleared (not in a bad way! It was probably the most beautiful scene I've ever seen. Tall waving, golden grasses, and irises that grew with violet stalks. Huge walnut trees, heavy with green nuts. I would spend tons of time lounging in the hilly fields, beneath the trees. One day, I was very sick and had to go do a puppet show somewhere in a city--I was sort of dragged in, and had to dress up in a huge furry, grey costume that was sort of like a sasquatch, haha. I had a really bad fever, so I could barely play the role (it was silent--it was more like a dance show than a puppet show), and the president--but not Obama--was there critiquing us after the show was over. It was held on a very small platform stage, and most of the other performers were children. I remember the president saying that I didn't look well, and I ended up back in the grass on my hillside. I saw someone playing, or planting flowers--I'm not really sure which--in the fields below, and I watched him but he couldn't see me. I think most of the time I saw people I saw their auras around them, if that makes sense, because he was completely a deep red-pink hue. It sort of vibrated from him. It's sort of strange, but I whenever he was outside I never saw him a person; he was always this sort of dog-like cartoon character. We ended up meeting later, and I went with him into the city (which I assume is the same one from before, incredibly dark and rainy--almost Sin City-esque. I crawled in through his window and everything was very yellow--an aura again. (Note: I know nothing about auras and what colors symbolize, so I'm using the term loosely; he was also human at this point). I think at some point we fell in love, and we curled around each other on the bed and just laid there listening to the rain. There was so much joking and laughing going on between us. Like, I specifically remember it (and I've been awake a half hour now). Such happiness. We went back to the farm and I had suddenly taken on this huge passion for plants and gardening and flowers. I remember arguing with my dad over this peach pit that I had prepared for planting. I wanted to plant it in this one spot so I'd have a beautiful tree to lie under, but he wanted me to plant it somewhere else. I told him there were too many trees there already and that its roots wouldn't have enough room to grow, and it would die. We ended up saving it to plant next season.

At some point I think I was pregnant, because suddenly there were a bunch of little "puppies" running around--all pink like him. They were people, but they definitely acted like puppies. He was still there, planting flowers and roaming around the countryside. I tricked my mother into watching them, and she wasn't very happy at first, but then ladies and their grandbabies always have a good old time. I remember going up and meeting him on my hill, which has a hollow of trees at the top, and we walked through them and away forever. And then I woke up.

One a related note: I wish that my life was like all the songs The Album Leaf has ever composed. I think I finally have a band I can really, honestly, truly call my favourite. Every time I listen they make me so happy I want to cry. Every. Single. Song.

One by one
We force ourselves
Turn it on
It comes in waves

Try to find
Maybe this time
Don't turn your head
it's easy to forget how we were

Once inside
We've made it here
We struggle with the lights
They never go away

What have we learned
It's the same old things
That drive us here
And never go away
We are changed

Through the tides
Make your way
You'll find the time
A comfort inside

Here I wait
In the safe place
Where we were so many years ago
So many years agao

One by one
We close our eyes
And turn to ?
As a thousand nights go by

One by one
Ae close our eyes
And turn to ?
And a thousand nights went by

Now I'm going back to sleep and hope that I have more beautiful dreams.

save_this_night @ 2009-07-15T09:13:00

2009-07-15T13:38:24Z

Yesterday was quite amazing. I love looking at the sky. It's probably my favourite thing to do in the entire world, ever. I say that about a lot of things, but this is probably the real #1.

After work I went and lazed in the arboretum for three hours or so and finished the book I was reading: The Law of Dreams. It may or may not be my new favourite book. I'm not sure if it can replace The Book of Flying because they are so vastly different. So, I think that they're both tied for numero uno. The author writes similarly to the manner in which I think. I almost had a difficult time following it in the beginning, but once I realized how he was writing it all sort of clicked. It combined all of my favourite subjects: IRELAND, history, just the right amount of fantasy (not fantasy as in elves and magic and such, but creating a world that, while set in a very real time and place, has a certain aura of the fantastical), and just absolutely amazing characters. While set in third-person, it was really like reading a first-person narrative. When I'd put the book down for a bit to work or whatever, I always caught myself wondering if it was in third or first person, and would have to go check. It was beautifully written and had plenty of moments that were exceptionally deep, but not so many that it became corny. Also, it was probably the most real book I've ever read. The characters were all just incrediable, but they were all real. The way Fergus (the main character) thought about all of the dead in his life (it is set during the Irish Potato Famine, 1846-47, and I do believe less than four of the huge ensemble of characters actually live), and the way he experiences things are very potent, and very similar to the way I think of and feel things. I am SO THANKFUL FOR TAYLOR BOOKS AND THEIR ABSOLUTELY INCREDIABLE SALES.

Anyway, after I finished reading I was curled up in the grass beneath this gigantic black cherry tree, I looked up and noticed how beautiful the sky was. So, after a bit longer of basking in the warm earthyness of the park, I packed up my things and went driving about Morgantown, taking pictures. Here, have a few!

And then I went home, played a game of Scrabble or two with Mum, and went to bed at 11. Hooray!
---

Doctor's appointment is tomorrow. I didn't manage to lose 13 pounds, but I did lose 5. A bit more than a third of what I had hoped, but it was a fairly short period of time. Hopefully I will get sleep medicine that works without me having to mix it with muscle relaxers or OTC drugs. I'm not worried about my mixing, as I have never had a problem with side-effects and I always make sure to read labels and all before putting two pills I've never had before together, but it's still better to be safe. Not sleeping is just so awful that I'd rather face the morning-after consequences of taking one too many pills than go another 24 hours without sleep (or realize the lack of certainty that there will be sleep the next night).

I brought two books with me to read at work today: A biography of Mary Magdalene (it is very very biographical; contains footnotes and citing and all of that jazz), and a novel written about two female college roomates (one very rich and liberal, the other poor) in the 1960s. Told by the poor one about the rich one, who goes on trial for murder I believe. Going to start with the biography as it's only 200 pages long. Hopefully I can finish it by the end of today!

save_this_night @ 2009-07-13T21:06:00

2009-07-14T01:20:09Z

Happiness.

So, for quite a while now I've really been wanting a grassy sort of secluded place here in Morgantown to just lie around and read, draw, listen to music, etc.

Today, I found it. And, which makes it so much more awesome, it has a bunch of hiking/walking trails attached. It sits across from the CAC, and, while I knew it existed, it never occured to me to go there until today, on a whim: The Arboretum!

Trees of every sort, a little hidden ampitheatre, creeks (which are dry, but I hope will have water in them soon!), bridges, waking trails, a paved biking path. The arboretum itself is 3 acres, but the paths extend for several miles. The paved one I've walked before, starting farther down the road. I walked for several hours to see where the end was and ended up turning around because there just... wasn't an end in sight. So, I'm going to go there every day after work and hike for two hours (one hour to, one hour back) unless the weather is too soupy like it was a few days ago. If it is too hot, I'll still probably go and lay in the grass, and practice drawing trees and shrubs. It's a wonderful little place--immediately my favourite place in all of Motown (besides my bed).

After my excursion I really wanted salad. All of the lettuce and cabbage I have is getting old, so I stopped by Panera for the first time in quite a while. Bought this huge salad--enough for two meals, easily! So good. Just finished the first half, and I think I'm going to take the other part for lunch tomorrow. Mmmmmm. I love veggies. And I have apples, too! I'm going to eat one and decide--one and for all--if I'm allergic. If I die, then I probably was. If not, hooray! I love apples! :P

So now I'm going to straighten up my apartment a bit, pick a movie to watch, and settle down with the one of the three new paintings I've started. One is a nude for Brandon (my twin), hahaha. He wants it to hang in his living room, apparently. The other is a much larger nude I'm doing just for shits and giggles, and the last is a still life of a bottle sitting in a frosted window. There may or may not be a man looking in through the window from the outside when I'm done. Depends on how ballsy I'm feeling when I attempt to do the glass.

Yay!

save_this_night @ 2009-07-10T00:44:00

2009-07-10T04:58:48Z

Fucking fashion.

I love it. :D

Tonight is going to be epic on a level I have never experienced.

--

On a slightly related note, I've decided what I'm getting for my tattoo.

I've also promised myself that I can get it when I lose 50 lbs. I've been working hard to lose weight, but I just can't. So, I have a doctor's appointment for it (and my rarely-ceasing insomnia) next Thursday. I've decided the way I've have to mix an ever-increasing assortment of pills to even get a little drowsy is probably bad. Also, the fact that I can eat less than 1000 calories every day, avoid sodas (although I've been slightly slacking in that area lately. Still do not have any at home, however!), and walk a shit-ton and STILL not keep off weight sort of troubles me. Not in a medical way, I just don't understand. In the past two months I've lost a total of about 45 pounds. BUT, that doesn't count because while I'll lose them and keep them off for a week, they'll be back by the next EVEN IF I DO NOT CHANGE ANY OF MY HABITS, including sleep. Right now, I weigh more than I did when I began dieting right after Easter. Only by three pounds, but still. An example of what happens:

Two weeks ago, I went home for two days. I weighed myself right before I left: 243. When I got home two days later, I weighed 252. HOW. HOW IS THIS POSSIBLE. Two days, nine pounds. I keep my scales in the same place, I always weigh myself wearing just underwear or naked, just because my clothes tend to be on the heavy side, so none of those are probable reasons for the differences.

Oh well. I'm aiming to lose 13 pounds before the appointment Thursday. Starting tomorrow, I'm documenting absolutely every morsel I consume, calorie and all. I don't want to be fat forever. It's gross, and unhealthy.

save_this_night @ 2009-07-06T02:21:00

2009-07-06T06:24:16Z

I hate humans. I do.

Why the fuck can't people just be goddamn up front.
WHY.
WHAT THE FUCK IS SO HARD ABOUT THAT.

Some one please explain this to me. Please, honestly. I want to know.

I am ready to go and cut myself off from everyone but a few choice people.
Just, fuck this. Fuck it. Nothing in the world is worth this.

save_this_night @ 2009-07-02T10:10:00

2009-07-02T14:13:12Z

So, I just found out one of the violinists who coached my friends and I for many years in orchestra and such was arrested for soliciting sex from a fourteen-year-old.

It's amazing, as we grow older, how much we end up finding out about our mentors. Granted, he was never one of the musicians with whom I was constantly interacting, but he was still there a lot. This makes... four? five? teachers who have been arrested. One of several whom I really looked up to.

It's sort of sad.

save_this_night @ 2009-06-30T23:32:00

2009-07-01T03:32:37Z

JENKITTY,

i love you.

save_this_night @ 2009-06-27T16:49:00

2009-06-27T21:28:54Z

I wish that I was more mobile than I am. And I wish that I could stop being as jealous as I am (I am not jealous, really--it's just that I find that I get hurt waaaaay too easily when I am unsure of where I stand in a situation, and someone else appears to be filling the same role I am. Does that make sense? I don't even know.). I wish that I was painfully skinny, and rich, and that my hair would lay the way I want it to. I also wish that I weren't so vain, but I don't see that changing ever.

I am way too female for my own good. I really need to stop, right now.

You know a day is not going well when you've cried over a dress you haven't owned for more than an hour.
---
I hate how I become so emotionally attached to things, and people. And, moreover, I really wish emotions/life had a button that would keep you from liking someone you know you can't have. Actually, it's isn't really even that, because that's not the issue. I wish there was a button that would make everything really fucking clear, in reference to where friendships/relationships stand. Or that there didn't have to be a button, and we'd all just be open and honest. Did I post an entry about this recently? I have a feeling I've said something similar before. And, oh fuck, this applies to several situations in which I'm currently swamped.

Also, I think that my biological clock thing is slowly sort of waking up. I'm entering my prime "child bearing" years, and I can honestly say that I've never been so preoccupied with wanting a relationship/sex in my entire life. Like, now I know how men feel about sex, because I can honestly say about 80% of my waking hours are spent thinking about something related to relationships. Fuck this, man. Fuck it. WHY DO I WANT SOMETHING THIS MUCH? I DO NOT THINK I HAVE -EVER- WANTED ANYTHING SO MUCH IN MY LIFE, AND THAT IS FUCKING SAYING SOMETHING CONSIDERING HOW GODDAMNED AMBITIOUS I AM. Maybe it isn't my biological clock at all, and I'm just hitting that stage in a teenage girl's life where all she thinks about are boys r-e-a-l-l-y late. ANYWAY, whatever it is, it would sort of explain my preoccupation with fashion. I don't really care what anyone says, how you look does matter, especially in attracting a mate. Fashion is based around making yourself look better. The better you look, the more likely you are (in theory--depending on what sort of mate you're looking for) to attract someone you're attracted to. And I'm using the word "better" loosely. By "better" I mean the more defined your own style is. People who wear eyeliner to their knees and people who wear cardigans tied around their neck are equally fashionable. Anyway, the only immediate outcome of all of this hankering is one very unhappy, confused, and single fat girl.