I think I am addicted.
Last night I was anxious over ________ and caffeinated and incredibly full (which, unfortunately, but honestly, equals guilt in my warped mind), so I went running. I went running for an hour, which isn't an incredibly long time for me, but it is definitely an incredibly long time for someone (aka ME) with a sore (aka VERY SORE) foot. Dumb. Dumb dumb dumb dumb. Today I can hardly walk without wincing in pain. I refuse to let my body breakdown, yet I'm the one causing it to breakdown. Oh, all you people with your healthy feet - how I envy thee.
I miss running without pain. What's the solution? Just stay off of my feet for awhile? But I have no patience these days. I am so antsy pantsy because of ________ and ____________ and ______________________. Yes. Yes, I am addicted to running and endorphins and maybe even a little bit of self-inflicted pain. Maybe there are bigger things to worry about and cooler addictions to have. Right?
Saturday, June 18, 2011
Sunday, June 12, 2011
333
This is the 333rd post on this little blog of mine. I should make it something spectacular. I should make everything spectacular, but I end up making everything ordinary, which in and of itself is spectacular. The ordinary is extraordinary and so forth. So, let's go forth with this post.
Alone. I know how to be alone. I like being alone. I prefer to be alone. But I also like having the constant reassurance that I don't have to be alone if I don't want to be. Call it selfish - because it is. I keep people in my back pocket, so to speak, and convince myself that they will always be there in a moment's notice when being alone gets a little too lonely. Well, lately I have noticed that this system of mine is imperfect. People have their own lives, too, you know. They aren't frozen in time just waiting for me to press a button telling them to come alive and validate me. They have their own messes. They have their own places to be, they have their own places to leave. They have their own longings and fears and phobias and desires. They don't owe me a thing; they don't owe me their undivided love and attention.
But that's still what I crave - love and attention. It is cliche, almost, to say such a thing. It is so obvious. We all crave these things, right? We all want to be reminded, over and over and over again, that we exist, that we are permanent, that we will never go away. We don't want others to go away, either. Stay! I beg silently. Stay. They never will; we never will. And that's the way it's always been (the only thing that is permanent is impermanence, after all) and that's the way it should be. 333.
Alone. I know how to be alone. I like being alone. I prefer to be alone. But I also like having the constant reassurance that I don't have to be alone if I don't want to be. Call it selfish - because it is. I keep people in my back pocket, so to speak, and convince myself that they will always be there in a moment's notice when being alone gets a little too lonely. Well, lately I have noticed that this system of mine is imperfect. People have their own lives, too, you know. They aren't frozen in time just waiting for me to press a button telling them to come alive and validate me. They have their own messes. They have their own places to be, they have their own places to leave. They have their own longings and fears and phobias and desires. They don't owe me a thing; they don't owe me their undivided love and attention.
But that's still what I crave - love and attention. It is cliche, almost, to say such a thing. It is so obvious. We all crave these things, right? We all want to be reminded, over and over and over again, that we exist, that we are permanent, that we will never go away. We don't want others to go away, either. Stay! I beg silently. Stay. They never will; we never will. And that's the way it's always been (the only thing that is permanent is impermanence, after all) and that's the way it should be. 333.
carnies and feet
Oh, this post is just one shy of 333. I could explain, but I won't. But it has something to do with the suprachiasmatic nucleus.
*My foot hurts. I mean, my foot hurts like a bitch/bastard/asshole. My foot hurts much worse than my toe ever did (if you'll remember, I totally ripped that pretty necessary toenail clean off). It is just a constant soreness that doesn't go away with medication, sitting, elevating, etc. I don't know much about feet and I know you all aren't that interested in the subject of feet (unless I have some podiatrist followers out there... or some feet fetish followers?), so I will stop here and in a vain attempt at alleviating some of the pain go pop some ibuprofen.
*For five hours yesterday I sat at a booth at Orem's Summer Fest. If you know anything about me or have ever even interacted with me for one minute, you will know that groups of people (and just people in general) are not my thing. Summer Fest especially is not my thing. But it went alright, actually. Sure, I felt really old (teenagers calling me "lady") and sure, I felt unattractive (stupid story I won't tell here) and sure, I felt really young (complicated story I won't tell here), but all in all it was fine. I was visited by a friend and we walked around the carnival looking for a very specific and infamous carnie (no, not Rob Carney), but with no luck. And then, alone, I watched the fireworks from my back deck. I didn't watch all of the fireworks because, well, you've seen one firework, you've seen 'em all.
*There's more to say, but our attention spans won't allow me to write more. Later.
*My foot hurts. I mean, my foot hurts like a bitch/bastard/asshole. My foot hurts much worse than my toe ever did (if you'll remember, I totally ripped that pretty necessary toenail clean off). It is just a constant soreness that doesn't go away with medication, sitting, elevating, etc. I don't know much about feet and I know you all aren't that interested in the subject of feet (unless I have some podiatrist followers out there... or some feet fetish followers?), so I will stop here and in a vain attempt at alleviating some of the pain go pop some ibuprofen.
*For five hours yesterday I sat at a booth at Orem's Summer Fest. If you know anything about me or have ever even interacted with me for one minute, you will know that groups of people (and just people in general) are not my thing. Summer Fest especially is not my thing. But it went alright, actually. Sure, I felt really old (teenagers calling me "lady") and sure, I felt unattractive (stupid story I won't tell here) and sure, I felt really young (complicated story I won't tell here), but all in all it was fine. I was visited by a friend and we walked around the carnival looking for a very specific and infamous carnie (no, not Rob Carney), but with no luck. And then, alone, I watched the fireworks from my back deck. I didn't watch all of the fireworks because, well, you've seen one firework, you've seen 'em all.
*There's more to say, but our attention spans won't allow me to write more. Later.
Friday, June 10, 2011
h2ohyeah
So a few days ago I wrote a blog that mentioned best buddies and I of course did not include all of my BFFs. For this I regret. For this I will go to hell. Kidding. But I really do feel bad about it. I don't want anyone to think that they aren't (very) important to me. One of those people being Jack Waters. He really has been a vital person in my life. He has been through thick 'n thin with me and for that, among other things, I will always love him.
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
above all
We all hate things and people, we all love things and people, we all run away and run to places. We are all humans, that's all.
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
love
I do want to post more often, but the trouble I run into is that I believe every post should be really well written, insightful, full of cleverness, and maybe a pretty picture or two. Well, frankly I will probably not write anything for quite some time if I wait for a post to be all of the above. So here is a post that is none of the above!
*I love breakfast. I love breakfast so much that I fall asleep excited to wake up for breakfast and I literally wake up with a smile on my face because it is BREAKFAST TIME. I would skip lunch and/or dinner before skipping breakfast. I don't know what it is about breakfast that I enjoy so much, but the enjoyment is there and it's not going away anytime soon. Oh no! I hate breakfast! That was quick! Psych. I still love breakfast hardcore. Breakfast.
*Speaking of loving things, I kinda love my new job. Of course, a job is a job and it's always nice to have a day off and/or get off early, but for the most part my job rocks. Sure, I am sometimes (well, all of the time) really, really slow at chopping vegetables and get super nervous when the customer is standing right there watching me make their sandwich/smoothie/vegan nachos, but again, my job overall rocks. Oh yeah, I work at Ginger's Garden Cafe, by the way. I love my coworkers, I love the food, I love some of the customers, and I love free yoga classes. #superlucky
*Okay, let me keep up this whole love high by saying I absolutely love and adore and admire and miss and love my friends. I have been thinking a lot about my best friends lately and how in awe of them I am. They are brilliant - incredible writers, hilarious (pretty much the only people that can make me genuinely laugh on a regular basis), and more talented than 99% of the people I know. You people know Laura Eastin Hymes? She is one my best buddies. And same goes with Mr. Christopher Allman. Beautiful souls.
I just got sweepy. Time for sleep. SO HOT AND BOTHERED FOR BREAKFAST!!!
*I love breakfast. I love breakfast so much that I fall asleep excited to wake up for breakfast and I literally wake up with a smile on my face because it is BREAKFAST TIME. I would skip lunch and/or dinner before skipping breakfast. I don't know what it is about breakfast that I enjoy so much, but the enjoyment is there and it's not going away anytime soon. Oh no! I hate breakfast! That was quick! Psych. I still love breakfast hardcore. Breakfast.
*Speaking of loving things, I kinda love my new job. Of course, a job is a job and it's always nice to have a day off and/or get off early, but for the most part my job rocks. Sure, I am sometimes (well, all of the time) really, really slow at chopping vegetables and get super nervous when the customer is standing right there watching me make their sandwich/smoothie/vegan nachos, but again, my job overall rocks. Oh yeah, I work at Ginger's Garden Cafe, by the way. I love my coworkers, I love the food, I love some of the customers, and I love free yoga classes. #superlucky
*Okay, let me keep up this whole love high by saying I absolutely love and adore and admire and miss and love my friends. I have been thinking a lot about my best friends lately and how in awe of them I am. They are brilliant - incredible writers, hilarious (pretty much the only people that can make me genuinely laugh on a regular basis), and more talented than 99% of the people I know. You people know Laura Eastin Hymes? She is one my best buddies. And same goes with Mr. Christopher Allman. Beautiful souls.
I just got sweepy. Time for sleep. SO HOT AND BOTHERED FOR BREAKFAST!!!
Friday, June 3, 2011
#bachelorette4life
Dear Mr. Simon has been an incredible person in my life and I can see some kind of tattoo of him on my body in the future. Possibly over my heart because damn he is the love of my life. Speaking of love and hearts and Mr. Paul Simon, I was listening to him today and he summed up everything I have been feeling for the past couple of years (rough years, folks!) when he sang...
Romance is a heartbreaker
I’m not meant to be a homemaker
It was a female speaking in his song (the song being "Darlin Lorraine"), just in case that matters for whatever reason. But anyway, cheers.
Romance is a heartbreaker
I’m not meant to be a homemaker
It was a female speaking in his song (the song being "Darlin Lorraine"), just in case that matters for whatever reason. But anyway, cheers.
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