My Future Home
In Nevada City. Don’t steal it! My friends and I (and perhaps my Australian mail order husband) are moving there.
Redecoration
I purchased a really cool black & white photograph with a poem typed onto it with a typewriter (I think) from this woman at Indie Mart. I love love love it. It makes me happy. I am special.
I have library duty today and must work the day and evening away, sigh! I wish I could be roasting on a black blanket at the beach with my bff. Another day, another dollar.
Against Original Thought
Michael Jackson died and it is weird, but I do not want to watch his videos right now, for some reason. I think it is because everyone else is and I feel like I’m supposed to; therefore, I do not want to. I feel that way on holidays sometimes. I just don’t want to participate because it seems like that is what I should do. Plus, I haven’t really accepted it.
I have been caring about everything and everyone SO MUCH over recent years that it has taken a toll on me emotionally and physically. And everything and everyone in my life have now forced me to not care. I fought it for a long time. I would have rather died than not care with all of my being about people or things. But it didn’t work out for me and now I am being pushed off of a ledge into an abyss of emotionless ambivalence.
I used to think that being an empath was a blessing. Now it feels like a curse. I am bruised and broken and now must remove myself from harm’s way at the expense of my principles, before I get completely crushed.
Get me off of this train.
It Ain’t Me Babe
I am getting ready to go to my best friend’s bridal shower in Tiburon. It should be beautiful out there.
I finally got some sleep for like the first time all week. Sleep is so underrated. Not excessive sleep, I guess that is boring and a waste of time, but man – when you go for a long time without it, you start to feel like you’re falling apart. You really do fall apart. It is a new day and I am trying to just chill and take good care of myself and my loved ones. I feel more like myself, if that makes any sense.
I wonder if my neighbors are tired of listening to the Essential Johnny Cash. It could be worse, right?
Indie Mart tomorrow! Things are getting better.
This cover is really cute.
Hunk of the Day
Falcor (I hope I spelled that right), the luck dragon from The Neverending Story.
Look at that slimy body and those gaping nostrils. He wants to take you for a ride.
Pretty eyelashes, too.
The Happy Ness Monster
I stole this reference from someone on facebook, but this article is sooo interesting and 100 percent worth the long read. I wish the study included women. But on the plus side, if you are going to do a study, do it right and do it for 72 years like this one! Really cool.
Here is the intro:
Is there a formula—some mix of love, work, and psychological adaptation—for a good life? For 72 years, researchers at Harvard have been examining this question, following 268 men who entered college in the late 1930s through war, career, marriage and divorce, parenthood and grandparenthood, and old age. Here, for the first time, a journalist gains access to the archive of one of the most comprehensive longitudinal studies in history. Its contents, as much literature as science, offer profound insight into the human condition—and into the brilliant, complex mind of the study’s longtime director, George Vaillant.
What does it all mean?
I’ve had a few comments regarding personal interpretation of some things I’ve written. And I should clarify for some that I purposely screw around with the concept of author intent. Throughout my days studying literature, it was hammered into my brain that it is impossible to state author intent as fact and the task of attempting to assume it was a futile one.
I apologize if I’m not expressing this articulately. For example, that love letter down there (the one a few posts down) was written to about ten different people. Playing with the way things are intended versus the way they might come across to others is one of my favorite hobbies.
So don’t even bother trying to figure it out. Actually, do bother if you want. Theorizing is fun too. If you do figure it out what the hell I mean, I think it’d be pretty satisfying to feel like you get it. It’s just something I do to amuse myself.
On a random note, one of my coworkers sent me this video and I am kind of obsessed. I secretly hate Facebook and would probably shun it completely if I didn’t hate the phone so much and had an alternative way to reach people that I kind of miss knowing about/seeing.
