198 Miles

Friday, January 29

Is 1 p.m. still considered morning? I feel like it is.

The physical and the sentimental rarely align, i feel.
what i mean is that i am happy today, excited for tonight, but my throat feels like a slept with my mouth open all night. and my head hurts. and food sounds like everything i never want to talk about, let alone eat. and i ran out of the ginger tea i took from home (sorry mom, you know that no one drinks that stuff anyways)
all of these things are negative for the physical me. but the cognitive me is just happy. nice and simple.
if only a girl like me could complain once about something and get it over with.
i would like to be done with talking about how sick i feel today.
just today,
thats my goal. no more effusive complaints on everything going wrong with my body. im kind of afraid to take this on.
okay friends, here goes.


T-show tonight!

Wednesday, January 27

come on skinny love

I'm no good at finishing things.
But I'm great at starting them. Unless we're talking books - that is when i get serious. Is there a career for one who would be content sitting outside in rain and sun and just reading for hours? followed by a discussion with one or two other people on the values and ethos of said literature?
i would like that. i might even be good at it.
But i'm afraid this is the story of a lot of people, and thus it would never be a real career. but i feel like people get paid to sit and do math problems all day. and somewhere out there are people who enjoy THAT too. I have no idea who these people are. They are none of my friends. maybe I should seek out and spend time with more math/science loving people (wherever they reside) and it would rub off on me - or at the very least make me feel more the anomaly and less the Just-Another-Blonde-Girl-Who-Does-Everything-Kind-Of-Good-But-Nothing-Great.
ah I'm categorizing and pity-partying all at the same time. my multi tasking amazes me. and my humility too.

Well anyways I did finally finish For Whom The Bell Tolls this week. Michael Rohm would be proud. (if he wasn't too busy being an african wild man) That book and I had a good long run but i'm glad its over now. Of all his works this was the hardest on my soul. Something in the long drawn out account of the dusty war (internal and external) was always a little too grueling and masculine and hopeless and hopelessly sentimental. ah but those emotions have a time and place too, i dont get to exclude them just because they are not my favorite.

I made it. My first blog post. not too serious, not too important, but i'm glad it is taken care of all the same. and with bon iver as a background can one ever feel completely uninspired?
Now onto the finishing i have to complete in order to count this week among the past.
goodnight internety.