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a picture is worth a thousand words

really? because i can think of only one word for this one:
BORING.

if these walls could talk . . .

they might say, “hey, we heard you,” when i backed into the corner of the room during a party and farted.

i’ll tell you what i know about frustration.

frustration is texting “i love you forever and miss you right now” to your woman boss instead of your boyfriend because both their names start with “R” in your cell phone contact list. frustration is also when your boss texts you back, “thank you, but you’re late.”

today my bike was stolen

at first, when i walked out of the building and saw that my bike wasn’t there, i felt angry. i raised my fists and yelled at the people around me. then i pulled myself together and walked around the building to see if someone had moved it to the bike rack to kind of “teach me a lesson.” it wasn’t there so i checked all of the other bike racks on campus. the bike was no where.

i yelled again, then sat on the cement steps and cried. "why?” i asked the people passing by me. one man stopped and tenderly knelt down and asked if i was okay. i looked at him and he was the oldest, ugliest man i had ever seen. he reached out his hand to help me up. i wiped my tears away and said thank you. then walked away, laughing.

because ya know, i might have lost my bike today, but i am not as old or as ugly as him. i can buy myself a new bike, but he can never buy back the years lost or a better face.

my thoughts on hell

i don't think hell is a place. more of . . . a condition. 

like a condition in which you have to listen to the chorus of "every little thing she does is magic" on repeat for ETERNITY. 

(while i was looking up photos of hell i really really hoped my boss wouldn't walk in and catch me because there are a lot of creepy pictures...and i just wouldn't know how to explain myself.)

and the snow!

i heard a girl once describe how her fiance proposed:

"and when i said yes, it began to snow and i knew that God was happy and approved," she said.

i think about this story occasionally and i wonder if the snow was actually a sign of disapproval--because snow is pretty cold and can make you pretty sick and miserable, especially on your way to school.

it can also be pretty heartbreaking in the spring. or pretty annoying when you're driving.

and it's pretty messy when it turns to slush.

or completely destructive when it turns to ice and hits you in the face.


i don't know how that marriage worked out, but i wouldn't be surprised if they were divorced by now.

i like the idea . . .

...of settling down in one place for the rest of my life.

what i don't like? the idea of getting sick of it.

physical science 101

sometimes i wish we were oppositely charged so we could stick to each other. but i don't mean i wish we could stick together in like a brotherly or familial sort of way. i mean, literally, i want to be stuck to you because i'm beginning to suspect that you're stealing my food and i want to make sure i'm there to witness it...so that it NEVER happens again.

i've got this feeling.

so, i've got this feeling that i post more often than other bloggers. it's just a hunch, but i think i'm on to something.

THAT was a close one!

the place i work at (which will remain ANONYMOUS) has a facebook account.

yesterday the co-worker who runs the account tried to add me as a friend THROUGH the work facebook account. "to get more fans," blah blah blah.

i quickly denied the request because well, what if word got out about my blog?

i could get fired. and then i would never get paid for my thoughts.


phew. THAT was a close one.

a thought on scarves

i like scarves. all colors, all lengths, all textures.

why?

because one size fits all. and that means i'm wearing the same size as courtney cox and she's like a size negative 3.

wooooooo weeeeee! look at me!!!!

so i will continue to wear scarves even in the summer. even if it makes my neck sweat and my face flush. 

(i also like gloves.)

if these walls could talk . . .

. . . they'd probably say, "Ow" after I tried to do a cartwheel in my living room in my bathrobe but over rotated and hit my head against the wall.

they might also say, "Uh, disgusting," because before I stood up, my robe had come undone exposing my naked body in a twisted position. but walls don't have to talk for me to know that my body lying naked in a twisted position is disgusting. i've had a few roommates tell me this (because of the rolls).

in an apartment by myself

i sat alone at home in my bathrobe tonight.
i ate an entire bag of lime chips while i sat on the couch in quiet contemplation.

the phrase, "bye, buddy, hope you find your dad" kept running through my mind.


why?

(video)

a picture is worth a thousand words . . .

especially the mouth part of the picture: 
"so what, guys? what's the big deal?"

*

better vs. worse photos

what's the deal with pictures either making you look prettier than you really are or uglier than you really are? and what's the deal with always being offended by people's responses to them?

for example:

my mom emailed me months ago asking me for pictures of myself for some thing i can't remember now. i don't ever take pictures so i went on facebook to find some photos recently tagged of me.

there was this photo taken by a friend apparently standing above me. i was looking up at the camera and smiling big. because of the angle, i looked skinny. my skin was tan too, which made me look even skinnier.

i emailed the photo to my mom along with some others that were taken from good angles ;) ;) ;) ;)

it turns out she didn't use the photos i sent her. i asked her why.

her response: "they just didn't look like you."

this offended me.

my mom ended up using some fat photos of me at christmas.

she said, "i think they look pretty." this also offended me.

a simple introduction

i usually tell my co-workers my thoughts throughout the day. but lately, i've noticed slightly negative body language that suggests messages like "hey, we're working here" or "that was weird and now i feel uncomfortable around you" or "something about the way you talk is annoying," or "uh huh, yeah, that's really interesting but not really because i actually wasn't listening, but hey, can i borrow your shirt?"

the thing is, i don't know if i'm okay with this. although i'm flattered that you want to borrow my shirt because you think it's pretty but not at the same time because you're fatter than me, i need my shirts because i'm poor and i don't trust you to give them back. i also need to be listened to because i've got really deep ideas and an inquisitive mind. i can't keep quiet.


so i've started a blog. read, IF YOU LIKE.