Shove All the Planets In the Universe Up My Ass!

Do you ever just feel like the harder you try to take control of your life, the more everything just completely goes to shit? Because I do! I keep trying to be a responsible person and make good decisions (which, by the way, is very difficult for me anyway) and it keeps not working. I just can't seem to make a single decision in my life that gets me even one inch closer to where I want my life to be. Not only that, but I can't even do anything to lessen the completely unnecessary aggravations in my day to day life.

I Almost Died for Nothing

I've probably talked about this before, but I can't remember for sure so I'll just tell you again. I have white carpet in my bedroom. This was left over from years ago, when my sister had that room. I have no fucking clue why she decided to get white carpet or why my dad let her, but that's what she got. Anyway, now I have to deal with it and, with the number of animals who live in that house (and how poorly behaved they all are), it is completely impossible to keep it even remotely clean.

Yesterday, I got utterly fed up with how incredibly disgusting my carpet was and decided to bleach all of the stains. I figured it would look better to have lighter patches than yellow patches. So I got about halfway through the room when all of the bleach fumes seemed to coalesce. All of a sudden, my lungs and eyes are burning intensely. The smell also wouldn't go away even though I left the window open and the fan running all day. Here's the best part though, when the bleach smell finally did start to dissipate a bit, it turned out that it had somehow reactivated the dormant smell in the stains. So yeah, now my room smells like an absolutely lovely combination of bleach and animals body fluids.

 

Why Can't I Jump Off Buildings for a Living?

My dad and I just finished watching season two of Arrow (which was fantastic, by the way!) and today we were watching all the special features and behind the scenes stuff. I always find all that shit completely fascinating. I love hearing the actors talk about their characters, and the writers and producers talk about how the story-lines came to be and where they might be going. I especially love seeing how the stunts are done; I think that looks like about the most fun a person could possibly have. Every time I watch that stuff though, I end up getting all disappointed because I always think "That's what I want to be doing!" and by "that" I mean any of it. The stunt work is the part that I think would be the best, but I honestly think any job dealing with TV or movies would be incredibly exciting. I don't know why, but I've always just been so drawn to all of that. It's probably just because I live in WV so I know that is the one field that it would be damn near impossible for me to ever work in.

Also, when we were watching the behind the scenes stuff, I found out that Caity Lotz actually did the salmon ladder. I kind of assumed that it was either a stunt double or they used wires or something. But she really did it, and I think that is just so fucking cool. Now I have to get one! 

That's How You Know It's Working

I find that I feel much better about my performance in kickboxing class if I come home with some sort of mark to show for it. (Actually, I feel that way about a lot of things; if it doesn't hurt and/or leave a mark, it probably wasn't worth doing.) Anyway, I got a pretty good one again last night. My instructor had me kick a punching bag fifty times with each leg. My left leg is apparently weak and pathetic, so I didn't get much on that side. I got a nice big bruise all across my right ankle though. So I guess I did alright.

Someday I want to be able to compare scars with Oliver, Sarah, and Dig.

Thanks, Low Self-Esteem!

Lately I have been half-assedly looking for another job. I probably won't end up going through with it, because I never do, but I've been keeping an eye out for anything that might be appealing. I've noticed a disturbing trend though. Every time I find a listing for a job that I might actually want, I talk myself out of applying for it. Usually this is because I don't think they would ever hire me which, I believe, is a fairly reasonable assumptions considering the fact that I'm not really qualified to do much of anything. Every once in a while though, I find one that I do seem to be qualified for, but even then I don't apply for it. This is because I'm afraid that, if I did get it, I wouldn't be any good at it. So basically, the only jobs I ever apply for are the ones I already know I won't like. That's totally how you're supposed to do it, right?

I was looking for that scene from the episode Trial and Error where Dean talks about being a grunt. Instead I found this Supernatural/The Help crossover that made me laugh way too hard. 

This Is Why I'll Never Be Famous

You guys want to know why I'll never be one of those successful bloggers who actually make money from blogging? It's because I can't seem to stop myself from talking about shit that no one understands. I'm constantly making references that I am fully aware that 90% of the population won't get. There are a few people who read this blog pretty regularly who I know actually understand most of my references. So you would think, at the very least, I could make a point to keep them in the loop, but no! I still feel compelled, from time to time, to make "jokes" (I put that in quotes because, I think, in order for something to be a joke someone has to find it funny) that even they won't get. The thing is, for some reason, I get a real kick out of doing things purely for my own amusement. Probably not a good way to run a blog. 

Speaking of references that no one will get, this is probably my favorite Doctor Who scene ever. None of the other characters in this scene had any idea what Ten was talking about, but he knew it was funny and that was all that mattered. 

The Meaning of Squids

You know how I was bitching recently that I never remember my dreams? Well, I finally remembered one! Last night I dreamed about a squid. I wasn't actually in the dream, I was just sort of watching it. There was this family hiking up onto this big hill where there was supposed to be a lake where they were planning to swim. To get to the lake, they had to wade through a smaller lake (or maybe more like a large pond?). As they were wading through it, the water suddenly fills up with ink. The little girl screams that it was poison, but then someone else realizes that it was actually squid ink. 

Then the dream skips to a trial. Apparently one of the the kids had found and killed the squid. I got the feeling that he did it because he thought the squid was dangerous but that it really wasn't. I don't remember much about that part of the dream except the prosecutor saying "Do you know how rare squids are?" 

So yeah, I'm trying to figure out what exactly my unconscious is trying to tell me here. I'm not sure what to make of the metaphorical significance of squids. Maybe it was really just a dream about John Green. 

Feeling Truthsome

DISCLAIMER: This post is creepy and gross, and normal people will probably not want to read it. Also, if you do decide to read it, please refrain from any "helpful" comments about how unhealthy this behavior is. I am fully aware of that. Anyway, here is the post, in all it's morbid and creepifying glory. Hooray for two Firefly references in one post! (The other one being the title, if you didn't know).

I mentioned in a previous post that I might tell you the story about my fucked up hand. Well here it is. About a month ago, I punched a door. As my fist connected, I felt a pop followed by a wave of numbness that washed through my hand. When I looked down at it, there was this huge (like two inches high) bulbous, fluid-filled lump just below my last two knuckles. It, along with being incredibly gross looking, made it impossible to bend my fingers. Luckily, overnight, the lump dissipated to a bruise that covered the better part of my hand. I'm not sure exactly what it was that I ruptured, but it's still kind of fucked up and it keeps re-bruising every week during class. So, there you have it.

Weird-Ass Moth Story Part 3

A continuation of Weird-Ass Moth Story Part 1 and Weird-Ass Moth Story Part 2

"Hey, Seph!"
Persephone's best friend Jessica, soon followed by everyone else at school, had decided that pronouncing her full name was simply too time consuming and so had settled on this shortened version. Persephone kind of hated it; it had none of the appeal of her actual name, and possessed a certain cutesy quality that she found inherently irritating. However, she had chosen not to mention this to anyone in the interest of preserving her hard-won reputation as a "normal girl". Said reputation was something that she had been diligently cultivating ever since the Moth Incident just over three years ago. It was still accepted as fact that she was "a little weird" but, beginning just after The Moth, her appearance had been changing for the better and it was now also accepted as fact that she was one of the prettiest girls in school. As long as she was careful to remain "a little weird" as opposed to "really weird" or (god forbid) "SO weird!" this alone was enough to afford her some measure of popularity.

As Persephone looked up, Jessica bounded toward her with an unnervingly large grin on her face (she also seemed to be sort of vibrating) and said "I have something really exciting to tell you!" Persephone asked "What is it!?" while trying her best to imitate Jessica's enthusiasm (though, honestly, she couldn't imagine anything Jessica might have to say that was worth that level of enthusiasm). "Toby just told me that Brandon likes you!" Persephone was fairly certain that Brandon Mills had been unanimously voted, by the eighth grade girls, as the cutest boy in school. She herself had always thought of him as a bit of an arrogant ass, but decided to go ahead and say that she liked him back. There were two reasons for this; 1- a "normal girl" would never turn down the cutest boy in school. 2- this was the last day of middle school and everyone had been talking about how important it was to be dating someone when you got to high school, to avoid having the older students think of you as a little kid. So, despite the fact that the entire process had always seemed utterly ridiculous to her, Persephone completed the complex and mysterious middle school dating ritual by telling her best friend, who would tell Brandon's best friend, who would tell Brandon himself, that he could call her.

There were two more classes before the end of the day, which passed with the uncanny slowness reserved exclusively for the last day of the school year. When the final bell rang, signifying their final day in this particular school, everyone but Persephone fled their classrooms with a level of joy and excitement that she found completely annoying and yet envied at the same time. She thought how nice it must be to be so happy about something so ultimately unimportant. As she stepped out onto the sidewalk, amidst the crowd of  bouncing, chattering students; Jessica ran up to her, grabbed her hand and squealed "He's going to call you!" then made sort of and eeeeee noise and sprinted toward her bus. As always, Persephone walked home alone.  

The Moth Incident probably should have made her somewhat wary of walking in the woods by herself but, in fact, it had done just the opposite. She actually spent more time there now than she ever had before. After that day she had developed a new connection to the forest. It was as if she could actually feel the energy of the trees and the animals running through her body, and it made her feel so incredibly alive! She did have one other motivation for spending so much extra time in the woods though; she was looking for another moth.

The day after she had encountered it, she had begun researching; trying to figure out what species it was. She knew that it was not something that was native to her area. It quickly became apparent though that it wasn't native to any area. She searched everywhere for information on it. She started looking online, then visited every library she could, and finally even contacted a couple of well-known (within their own field, anyway) entomologists. She found absolutely no evidence that there had ever existed any moth like the one she had seen.

After the initial frustration of her fruitless search wore off, she decided that, if she couldn't find out what it was, the next best thing would be to find another like it. So after that she had spent every free minute in the woods. She had sat for hours on end watching cocoons, to see what came out of them, to no avail. After an entire summer of this, she had finally convinced herself to let it go. That was when she had made the decision to try to be normal. She told herself that maybe that was the what the whole experience had really been about.

Despite the fact that it was a threat to her quest for normality, Persephone simply couldn't give up her excursions into the woods. And, while she may never have found the moth, she did find plenty of other fascinating things. A couple of weeks ago, she had noticed a pair of birds constructing the beginnings of a nest. She couldn't wait for the end of school each day, so she could check on their progress. On this day, she arrived to find the nest almost completed, and smiled genuinely for the first time all day.    

Not Exactly According to Plan

Well, the trip yesterday didn't go quite how we expected it to. We started out around 2:00 and had driven for about half an hour out into the middle of nowhere, when the oil light in my sister's car comes on, flashes for about ten seconds, makes an annoying beeping noise, then goes back off. We debated whether or not it was actually something to worry about because it seems like, if it was serious, the thing should have stayed on instead of going back off, right? But we thought it was best to go ahead and check it. So we pull off the road and find the oil completely empty. Since we were basically in the forest at this point, we thought the best bet would be to go back to Mannington. We were both somewhat concerned, less because we really thought the car was going to break down than because we weren't sure what we would do if it did, since the road we were on had not only no businesses, but very few houses, and no cell service. So, we're driving back, crossing our fingers that the car doesn't shit out on us before we get there when we hit a pothole and one of the hubcaps flies off, rolls to the edge of the road, and escapes down over the hill directly into someone's yard. Luckily, we did in fact make it back, put some oil in the car and managed to restart the trip around 3:00. So overall, I guess it worked out okay.

The festival itself was really nice though. Neither of us actually sold anything, but there were a lot of cool people there, the music was great, and the place was beautiful. Plus, once again, my sister got some great pictures.

If you want to see the rest of the pictures, go like her Facebook page. 

Wounds and Wizards

Last night at kickboxing we were practicing kick counters (which I think I actually did decently well at), and one of them was to catch the other person's leg as they try to kick you. After you catch their leg, you're supposed to pin it against your side and then try to push them over backward. Meanwhile, the other person is trying to pull away from you. It was pretty fun actually; I almost knocked my instructor down a few times, and he did knock me down a few times, so it worked out well overall. Then at some point, I looked down at my arm and thought "What the fuck is that?" It turns out it's a huge rug burn type bruise that I acquired when he was trying to pull his leg free. So yeah, best kickboxing injury yet! Also, he and I were sparring at the end of class and this little kid walks by with his mom and says "But I want to see them battle." which we both agreed was pretty cool.

On an unrelated note, we are about to leave for the Wizard's Ball where my sister is going to be selling some of her photos and I will be selling my jewelry and weird utility belt things. So, wish us luck.

Dipshit

I am so stupid sometimes! Why, why did I decide to start a new workout yesterday? Now I am just ridiculously sore which, as I have mentioned before, I don't mind ( I actually enjoy it in a perverse sort of way). The problem is that I have class tonight, and now I'm just going to embarrass myself. I've already been showing up for the last several weeks with a fucked up hand (which I may or may not tell you guys about later. I haven't decided yet.) and now I'm going to be limping around too. I could have started the new workout a few days ago, or tomorrow, even if I had started today I probably would have been fine tonight, but no! I had to do it on the exact day that would cause me the most trouble.

Harder Than It Looks

So, a while back, my dad bought the T25 workout. He bought if for himself, but never actually ended up doing it so today I decided to try it. You see, I've been super pissed off lately and, when I get super pissed off, everything in my life starts getting on my nerves. One of the things that tends to annoy me the most is my daily workout. To be fair, it really was starting to get unreasonable. I started out doing my hour long exotic dance workout. Then, when that got too easy, I started doing it while wearing 5lb ankle weights. Then I moved to 10lb ankle weights. Then I added a bunch of extra stuff after the workout that amounted to around another 30 minutes. So, today I finally said "fuck this!" and decided that, since the majority of my workout was feeling too easy anyway, I might as well try this 25 minute shit. Well, it might have only been 25 minutes, but it was fucking intense! It's one of those deals where you do a different workout every day, and I did start with the cardio one which I knew I would kind of suck at (Cardio had never been my strong suit). But yeah, It was definitely harder than I expected. Even though it just about killed me though, I went ahead and did all of my extra stuff after (you know, just so I would be sure to be nice and sore tomorrow). Anyway, it was nice to have that extra half hour of time to get other stuff done though.

Personal trainer Sam would have been ashamed of me. 

Dreams

You know how I said the other day that I've been reading Carl Jung? Well, he talks a lot, I mean a lot, about dreams. His theories suggest that dreams carry very important messages from the unconscious, both the personal unconscious and the collective unconscious. Supposedly, if we learn to listen to these messages, they can help us to understand the world and improve our lives. Well, I don't know about you, but I could certainly use some important messages from my unconscious! Here's the problem though, I basically never remember my dreams. If I do remember them, it's all just little bits and pieces, never the whole thing. Dr. Jung, how am I supposed to decipher these extremely important messages if I can't ever remember them!?

For all I know, I could be having prophetic dreams about people dying and I'll never know that I was supposed to save them. 

Nothing

I genuinely have not one single thing worth saying today. If I try to write anything I am just going to end up growling, and snarling, and slinging an absurd number of profanities at you. So I'll just spare you all that and let the Oatmeal sum things up for me.

Just to clarify, this is not actually directed at any of you. This is simply my outlook on life in general right now. Also, I'm pretty sure this is life in general's outlook on me, which is basically why I'm so pissed off. 

Chronic Indecisiveness

I think, in my entire life, I have made a maximum of three major decisions that I have actually been fairly certain of (don't ask me what they are though, because I don't actually know). Pretty much everything else, I have gone back and forth about consistently ever since the decision was made. For instance, I still often wonder if I should have stayed in college and gotten my psychology degree.

Psychology is one of the few things that I find genuinely fascinating (Well actually, there are lots of things that I find fascinating, but it's one of the only ones that has the tiniest bit of real world value). I'm currently reading Man and His Symbols by Carl Jung, and it's just so interesting. Jung is the only person I've ever known of to combine psychology with mythology, which is just so very cool to me. It's also quite outdated in some of the attitudes expressed (It was written back in the sixties) but, for the most part, the concepts are still valid. The point here is, I left school and now here I am reading the same stuff I would have been reading if I were still there. The other point is, if you like psychology and/or mythology you should totally read this book because it's really interesting stuff (just try to ignore the occasional offensive comment).

Also, notice the picture or ouroboros (the snake eating his own tail) on the cover? That was a huge recurring theme in Hemlock Grove, and I ordered this book before I ever started watching Hemlock Grove. I really wish I could ask Jung what the deeper meaning behind that is. And, the part I was reading today made mention of Persephone (the goddess I named my moth story character after). 

New Tradition (Hopefully)

The Festival of Colors was just as great this year as it was last year. I would very much like to make this a new tradition. There really aren't many things that I enjoy enough to have any desire to commit to doing them every year, most traditions seem like kind of a waste of time to me, but this is one thing that I would do that for. It's just such an unusual experience; I've never known anything else quite like it. Apparently, as we learned this year, the whole idea behind the festival is unity. The point of the colors being that, once everyone is covered in different colors, we can't see our differences anymore. The goal is to bring everyone together and make connections with each other. It sounds kind of corny but I feel like, at least to some extent, it really does work. There's just something about being around all of these people who, for the most part, don't know each other, all having fun and throwing brightly colored dust at each other that makes you feel like you're a part of something. Plus, my sister, Caty got some really amazing pictures.

Like this one.

Kickboxing and Colors

There were two new students in my kickboxing class last night (The actual name of which, by the way, is Muay Thai Fundamentals. That will be relevant later in the post). This meant that the class was pretty much a review of things I had done quite a while ago. It worked out okay though because 1- I got to help demonstrate things for the new students, which was kind of cool. And 2- I'm sure I could use the practice on those things anyway. At the end of class, the instructor said to me "So what did you think?" I assume because he realizes that I prefer having just the two of us in class. I kind of laughed and said "Not bad." To which he replied "Well, you know, at some point it was going to have to be an actual fundamentals class instead of just whatever you needed." I suppose that is true. I'm still kind of hoping the other guys don't come back though. Does that make me a bad person? How about if I just hope that they decide to go to class on a different day?

Also, the Festival of Colors is today. I'm pretty excited about it.

Weird-Ass Moth Story Part 2

A continuation of Weird-Ass Moth Story Part 1





For the rest of her life, Persephone would never forget a single detail of the moth's appearance because, she would always be able to see it when she closed her eyes. It was much larger than it should have been, given the size of the cocoon, with a thin sleek body and legs that were unnervingly long and frail. It's wings were enormous and powerful looking with strange jagged edges. The body was as black and as stickily shiny as tar, and the wings were charcoal gray with streaks of burgundy, like blood drying over ashes.

It sat motionless for several moments and she wanted to leave, to run home and pretend like none of this ever happened, but something inside of her wouldn't let that happen. Instead, she sat staring at the moth and realized that it was staring back at her. Not only that, but that it could see her; see everything about her, things she herself couldn't even see. She could feel it's large black eyes digging into her. It was as if it were crawling through her mind and her soul, looking for something......something. Then it gave it's wings a great shake, to remove the last drops of moisture left over from it's transformation, and she knew that it had found what it was looking for. It took to the air, and the way that it flew reminded her more of a bird of prey than a moth; moving not with a quick fluttering motion but with huge, dramatic swoops of it's wings. It moved slowly and deliberately straight toward her then angled slightly to her left, at the last second. It's wing lightly grazed her cheekbone, like a kiss, as it passed leaving behind a charcoal gray streak of shimmering dust. She knew somehow that it had claimed her. She belonged to it now.

She turned and watched as the moth lifted upward into the treetops, and was gone. She sat there for another moment, trying to make some sense of what had just happened, but found that she was unable to form any kind of coherent thought. She could feel a strange pulse, as if the ground beneath her had it's own heartbeat, and it made it impossible for her to concentrate. So she stood and slowly walked home, unaware of the darkness that had fallen as well as everything else around her.

When she opened the front door, her mother instantly dashed over and grabbed her shoulders in something that was half way between a hug and a threat. "Where have you been?!" At first, Persephone could not understand why her mother was so upset; she always walked in the woods after school. It was only then that she became aware of how dark it had gotten. "Sorry, Mom. I guess I lost track of time." She said, with no inflection. "I'm going to my room, okay?" Her mother's look of concern and irritation became pure concern, and she asked "Aren't you hungry?" Persephone answered with a simple "No." and walked slowly, numbly, to her room. As she closed the door behind her, she heard her mother call "And what is that on your face?" but she didn't know how to answer that, so she didn't try.

She had a mirror on her wall that she'd had since she was four years old. It was a cheap thing with a wide plastic frame, that she and her mother had bought at a yard sale. It was her very favorite thing that she owned. When they first bought it, her mother had helped her paint the frame in a multitude of obnoxiously bright colors. Since then, it had become an ongoing project for them. The mirror had gone through several different incarnations, from the bright colors, to glittered, to covered in stickers, and was now a sort of mosaic. They had glued on everything from broken jewelry, to newspaper clippings, to scraps of fabric from her favorite clothes that she had outgrown.

She now stood before this mirror, that somehow represented everything that was her life, and studied her reflection. She looked different. She felt different. Some of the plainness had left her face. Her eyes and hair, which had always been exactly the same shade of generic and unappealing brown, appeared to have grown darker. Her lips seemed to have more color to them as well. That wasn't all though; there was something else, some undefinable quality that hadn't been there before. She looked at the streak of gray on her cheek. It felt tingly, as if there were a slight electrical current running through it. She thought of wiping it off, but couldn't bring herself to do it. So she walked to her bed, without changing out of her dirty clothes, lay down and was asleep almost instantly. For the first of many, many nights throughout her life she dreamed of the moth.

I think this will be the end of chapter one. I know it's short for a chapter but 1- I like short chapters and 2- if I ever actually make this into a book, I guess I'll add some more stuff in there. 

Mourning Finished Books

I finished Hemlock Grove (the book) recently, and I am extremely upset! Do you ever finish a book, or series and feel like someone you love just died? Maybe that's a bit dramatic, perhaps I should say "moved away". Though about half the time, at least in my case, they actually did die! (Did you think I had gotten over what happened to Mitchell? I didn't!).

I truly do have an uncanny knack becoming far too attached to fictional characters. In this case, even more so in the book than in the series. You see, the more fucked up a character is the more likely I am to become unhealthily attached to them. Well Roman, in the book, was even more fucked up than Roman, in the show. So, naturally, he is my new favorite person.

There was this one line, that was in the book but not the series, that just about killed me. It went like this;

"But she would make it, because maybe he wasn't much of a warrior but if there was one thing he was cut out for it was an epic and retarded act of love."

Despite how non-PC that is (apologies, by the way. Had I been the one writing it, I probably would have gone with "...epic and hopelessly idiotic..." or perhaps ".....epic and suicidally stupid....." or something like that.) the sentient stands. I feel like I'm in the same boat. There aren't a lot of things in this world that I feel particularly well-suited for but, if there's one thing I am cut out for, it's probably that. Anyway, I have WAY more in common with Roman than I should probably ever admit. Yeah, I can relate more closely to a fictional, high school age, Upir guy, with a multitude of psychological problems, than anyone else I'm currently aware of. That's totally healthy.

Then again....... maybe that's been my problem all along, perhaps I'm an Upir and just don't know it. It would explain a lot.

I'm a Bad Person

This past weekend, my mom and I went to see If I Stay. It was a bit more of a romance than I'm usually into, but it was still quite good. The characters were cool, the story was interesting, and the music was fantastic, so I was able to forgive the chick flick moments. Anyway, good movie, you should check it out.

The real point of this post though is the fact that, when I watch these kinds of movies, it's not the sad parts that make me sad; it's the happy parts. The whole time I was watching this movie, I'm thinking "Yeah, I'm sorry you were in a horrible car accident, and that totally sucks that you're in a coma now. But why can't I live in Portland, and hang out with a bunch of cool musicians, and be ridiculously talented, and have a boyfriend who loves me?!" Seriously, everything that happened in her life (besides the car accident) I would give damn near anything to have happen to me. 

It's always like this with sad movies too, because what really makes a movie sad is what the person loses (or almost loses, or might lose). So in order to have a good sad movie, the main character has to have something really great, for at least a little while. I mean, if my life were a movie the most horrible thing imaginable could happen to me and it still would be very sad because the audience would just think "Eh, she didn't really have anything going for her anyway." 

Also, I am moving to fucking Portland someday! Even if it's when I'm eighty years old, I'm going! 

Weird-Ass Moth Story Part 1

Okay you guys, since I actually did get some interest, here is a little snippet of my weird-ass moth story. I'm keeping it short for now, because I'm fucking paranoid about this and, the less I share, the less likely I am to embarrass myself. If anyone actually likes it, and I don't get too embarrassed, and I keep working on it, I might post more at a later date.





It was a moth; that was how it all started.

Persephone had always been an unusual, but highly intelligent, child.

(before we go any further. Yes, Persephone is a strange name. Yes, the other kids at school made fun of it from time to time. No, she didn't care. She loved her name, actually; she thought it fit her. She did once ask her parents how they chose it though. They both shrugged as if the question had never occurred to them. Then her dad said "I don't know. I guess we heard it somewhere and thought it was pretty." She found this answer satisfactory. That was how her parents were; they liked what they liked and saw no need to justify it to anyone. She kind of loved that about them.)

She had little in common with the other kids and so spent most of her time after school alone, often walking in the small section of woods near her house. During one of these excursions, when she was ten years old, she happened upon a large fuzzy cocoon, near the base of a tree. She had always been fascinated by such things, so she knelt down to get a better look at it. As she leaned closer, her face only a few inches from the cocoon to examine the fibers from which it had been constructed, there was a sudden jolt from inside. Startled, she fell back on her heels and then laughed at her own foolishness. It was just a little cocoon, what did she think it was going to do to her? As she watched, the moth inside continued to squirm and stretch at the walls of it's prison. Suddenly she became ecstatic realizing that, if she was patient, she would actually get to see it hatch out. She had never seen that before and she knew instinctively that, if she ever did, it would be the most amazing thing she would ever see.

It was a slow, laborious process and she sat enthralled through the whole thing, unaware of how much time was passing. She watched the cocoon twitch, and stretch, and eventually begin to split. Even at this young age, she understood the importance of this event. She saw the philosophical implications of being witness to this miracle. The humble, and mundane in every way, caterpillar would soon emerge as a beautiful moth who would, no doubt, be admired by all who saw her. Persephone knew on some deep level that it was really her in there. She was about to watch herself transform from this awkward child into something remarkable.

All at once, the cocoon ripped to shreds and what it revealed caused her to fall backward once again. This time she did not laugh. It was unlike anything she had ever seen, and terrifying in a way that she would never be able to articulate, or even fully comprehend for herself. She supposed that it was a moth; it at least fit the technical description of one. But she also knew that it was really something else entirely, something that she had every right to be frightened of, even if she couldn't explain why. It was beautiful in a way that made her breath catch in her chest. She imagined this was the kind of beauty that one would find in the eye of a tornado, or at the center of a raging fire; the kind of beauty that a person usually only sees if it is the last thing he or she will ever see.





Okay, you guys, that's all for now. Waste of time? Yea or nay?

Also, you guys know how I use that one picture of Spike to designate all of my poetry posts? (Which I recently realized I haven't done in a very long time, and now I'm disappointed in myself.) Well, I think this ^ picture of Chuck is going to be my new "fiction image." Why? Because Chuck is my very favorite fictional writer, and in this picture he looks utterly terrified which is how I always feel when I share my writing with anyone.  

Story Time! (....maybe...)

So, I've been telling myself that, since I can no longer waste my time online while I'm at my house, I am actually going to get more things accomplished. One of those things is, hopefully, writing some fiction like I said I was going to. The thing is, even if I make myself start writing some stories, that in no way guarantees that I will actually finish anything. Often I have (what I think is) a good idea, so I start it and then get bored and never finish it. Other times I just come up with (what I think is) an interesting bit of dialogue, but I never bother to fit it into a larger story line. So here is my thought; maybe......maybe, I'll actually start posting some of my random snippets of stories here and get some feedback from you guys. Like "This one is okay, that one sucks." "This is kind of interesting, that's a waste of time." That sort of thing. What do you think? Does anybody have any interest in reading any of my random bits and pieces of stories, that will probably never get finished? That way maybe I'll at least get an idea about which ones I should put my effort into. Right now, I'm kind of working in this weird story..... with a moth. I can't quite decide what it's actually about yet (it's not really about the moth, I do know that much).

It's Better This Way

Just to let you guys know, my computer is now broken. Not like, it's not working properly, like it's physically broken. There is no fixing it; I would actually have to buy a new one, which is obviously not going to happen since I can't even afford to buy the things I absolutely need right now. Anyway, I am going to try to keep up with this blog as well as I can, but I will have to do it from my mom's computer, so I make no promises. Also, if anyone comments or messages me on Facebook, or whatever and I don't get back to them, that's probably why.

Who knows, maybe this is for the best. Maybe now I'll stop wasting my time online instead of doing things that I should be doing. Also, it gives me a good excuse to get the fuck away from that dating site that has been making me insane or the last couple of weeks. Or, you know, maybe I'll lose my mind entirely because I'm completely cut off from the outside world now!  

Practice Makes Slightly Less Shitty

Last night was kickboxing. We mostly worked on different combinations, and a little on footwork (which I have apparently been doing wrong all this time. Awesome.). I Feel like I did pretty well on some of it, not so much on some; though none of it was as bad as last week's left hook and dropped gum fiasco. I think I finally did get the left hook down, by the way, because I practiced it all fucking week.

To go off on a bit of a tangent, for a moment, I've mentioned before that I've been practicing with a jump rope, so I won't look like a total ass if I have to do it in class again. Well the rope I have has a counter on it, so you know how many jumps you've done. Yesterday, I got over two hundred jumps in a row without tripping. I was pretty fucking excited about that.

Anyway, back to class last night. I also took this opportunity to practice my social skills. I actually stayed after class and talked to my instructor. I mean, it was probably for around five minutes or so, and we only talked about kickboxing, but still, I voluntarily spoke to another human. I asked him questions and everything.

And Another

Another thing that this whole online dating bullshit gets me thinking about is why I even need to do this in the first place. Why is it that some people have such an easy time attracting other people and others just can't seem to manage that, no matter what we do? I spend a depressing amount of time thinking about this. Seriously, what the fuck is that? It's not just physical attractiveness, because you see plenty of not-particularly-attractive people in relationships. It's not based on how friendly a person seems, because I know for a fact that I smile at people compulsively; I don't want to, it's just a reflex (I think it's residual effect from working retail). It's not just that I'm too weird, because I've seen girls who look like me in relationships a million times. So what the fuck is that unidentifiable thing, that I just don't have, that tells other people "Hey! I am, in fact, not an inanimate object that just happens to be sitting here."

I did once have someone tell me that I looked like a mannequin though......maybe they really do think I'm an inanimate object....... 

Another of Those Intangible Things

This whole dating site thing has me thinking; what is it that makes some people just click and others not? You would think it would be common interests, or shared worldviews, or similar lifestyles, but it's not. At least not necessarily. I honestly don't know what it is. The site that I'm using this time lets you answer these random-ass questions, then other people answer the same questions and it gives you a percentage for the things you have in common. This is helpful, to some extent, because you know if you only match with someone 4% you probably shouldn't waste your time. It's not as helpful as it should be though because, for some reason, that just doesn't determine whether or not you are going to feel a connection with someone. I have found several people, some of whom were vegetarian or vegan, I match with over 90% and still just don't feel like I could talk to them. Either I read their profiles and just don't feel drawn to them at all, or I try talking to them and it just doesn't go anywhere. Then there are people I have known, mostly in real life, who I have seemed to have nothing in common with yet felt totally (or as close to totally as I am capable of feeling) comfortable with. So what the fuck is it? What is that thing that makes people click?

Of course, according to Alex, bad dating is an essential part of being human. So I guess I should just accept it.  

Also, I have actually been talking to a few people; mostly just small talk and bullshit. There is one guy I'm having a real conversation with though, and he seems pretty cool. 

Superhero Relationship Choices

The other night, my dad and I watched The Amazing Spider Man. At some point, my dad says "Every girl wants to date a superhero." To which I reply "Some of us would rather be the superhero." He gives me this sort of skeptical look and says "and date one." And you know what, he's right. It would be boring as shit to be a superhero dating a normal guy; which got me thinking, why the fuck does pretty much every superhero guy exclusively date utterly helpless girls? I mean seriously, don't you have enough on your plate without having to rescue your girlfriend every damn day?

This ^ was the scene that started the conversation. Also, Gwen actually wasn't nearly as bad as some superhero girlfriends, but still. 

It's Going to Be a Busy Month

I actually have TWO social events this month (plus a "mushroom walk". Yeah, I don't know, I told my sister I would go with her) which, for me, is a bit overwhelming. On the 13th is the Festival of Colors, which we attended, and greatly enjoyed, last year. Then the following weekend, the 19th through the 21st, is the Wizard's Ball. I have never been to this one before, but it looks like it will be ridiculous and amazing. Plus, my sister and I are going to set up and try to sell some of our stuff (her photos, and my jewelry and utility belts). So yeah, if anyone is interested in either of those things (or the mushroom walk) you should totally come. A good time will be had by all......I hope.  

"It's gonna be a busy year." 

I Cannot Believe I'm Doing This Right Now!

So, my sister talked me into joining another dating site. Now I have run myself way behind schedule this morning working on my fucking profile. Why why why do I keep doing this to myself?! It invariably ends in disaster after having fucked up my life, and making me into a complete lunatic, for a couple weeks or so.

The title of this post is a quote from My First Mister, but I couldn't find the scene. 

It was this^ guy though.