October 11, 2005
"Kiss me, I'm 18!" I feel sorry for people who get sandwich posters on their birthdays. They either have to walk around like complete idiots burdened with this incredibly awkward billboard-esque contraption in addition to lugging around a heavy backpack and books and gifts, or they have to risk offending the rather thoughtless poster giver by taking it off and placing it ever so gingerly into the nearest trash can. ^-^
Maybe I should do that for Aimee this October, just to piss her off. But perhaps she would enjoy it, having mistakenly interpreted it as an act of sisterly love.
I apologize if some of my posts offend or depress. I thought they were hilarious. Still, it would do to warn you not to continue reading this one, if you are indeed weak of heart. I have taken it upon myself to be somewhat more candid about my confused emotions today.
I am quite envious of happily married couples. I wonder whether I will end up just as content, whether I will have the good fortune to find someone who would want to marry me in forty years--just as much as he wanted to marry me the day he'd proposed. I wonder, with a guilty conscience, whether he kisses her goodbye every morning when he leaves for work. I can only harbor a certain blind, girlish hope that someday I will be blessed enough to have a loving, affectionate husband.
Keestal
October 9, 2005
a new favorite book? "My father was an incredible pianist, just a notch below concert grade. He'd been classically trained in Europe. He had perfect pitch. Now and then I'd walk past his study door and hear him chuckling. I'd peek in to find him reading a Beethoven or a Haydn score, laughing aloud like it was a Dave Barry column. He'd look up with an expression of pure heavenly pleasure on his face. "God," he'd say, "this is just so witty!" --Peter Barton, Not Fade Away
I think I lie when I tell people that I'm fine with whatever sort of career my family wants me to dedicate my life toward. I think I am no doctor, no dentist. Because I've always wanted to create. I have always wanted to offer the world the product of my imaginative mind in some form, be it music- or film- or art-oriented. But as I strive to be a realistic individual, deep down I suppose I realize that I am wholly incapable of being successful in such an arena. I am not so imaginative and original as I'd like to believe myself to be. Would I like to be an opera singer, an indie film director, a concert pianist? You bet. Do I possess any of the talents necessary for even mediocre success in these fields? Of course not. So truly, I've been wallowing in self-pity because I adore creativity, but I cannot be creative. And I've been using the doctor/dentist clause as a protective shield from the embarassing truth: I'm just a wannabe with no skills to offer, just an impoverished little orphan in the cold winter weather with her nose pressed to the window, looking in at a contented family clustered around a blazing fireplace.
Oh, well. There's always a chance I'll enjoy being a dentist.
Keestal
September 30, 2005
reporting from cloud nine I am in a spectacular mood. =) Floaty moments, no juggernaut tests tomorrow, and good shrieking moronic fun on the swings with Brittany followed by promptly going to bed for a much-needed 8 hours of sleep (It's 2:30 right now). And also, Rebecca's xanga post was happy, and that makes me happy. And Eva got her certificate in the mail, which sounds awesome. And I received very kind comments on my college essay, which are sure to make my head swell.
Everyone should hang around on the swings once in a while. It's stress-relieving. Li'l 'Tand, I'm in debt to you for many a ride home and many a good laugh. And many a neck-savin'.
Keestal
September 26, 2005
don't try to be someone you're not I do that enough for the both of us.
Like, hello. The greater Houston metropolis has indeed survived Rita's wrath, thanks. It has not been wiped off the face of the earth, though I can't say the same for Beaumont and what remains of southwestern Louisiana. Listening to the media from other parts of the country, though, you'd think Texas had had a limb amputated.
The weekend has been very much like a vacation, actually. We did not join the great exodus inland, and so while the poor masses slaved away outside in 90-something degree weather with their air conditioning off for fear of running out of gasoline, I lazed around inside in my nice 77-degree microcosm feasting on perishables in anticipation of a power outage that never came.
Point? Don't flee from a storm. You're invincible. Of course, when you die as a direct result of taking my advice, you'll realize how I'm not to be trusted.
I miss people. Among them, one very specific person in particular.
Keestal
[Edit] New Ouija log. [/Edit]
September 19, 2005
it hurts to be nonexistent in your eyes Oh, wow. Would I have had a chance had the timing been different?
Knitting! Another reason why I am strange. Miss Brittany and I have joined a knitting circle at the library. How cool is that? Huh? Huh? *Chuckle.* Yes, I shall remain a dork forever and then some. Which reminds me. New Ouija log.
I should perhaps become more of a wholesome, caring person in the quest to better myself. Right. What a horrendous thought.
Keestal
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