Warning: Expect foul language. I often blog when sleep deprived, and even when I'm not sleep deprived I cuss.
Warning the second: TMI often occurs. Read at your own risk. Feel free to laugh at my expense (I know I do!).
Warning the third: I suppose I should just put a general Trigger Warning here. I talk about mental illness (Anxiety, panic disorder, depression, social shit), abuse (rarely), and my fucked up relationship with food. And...other things. Actually, just consider this a general warning: If you might be triggered by things, you probably should read no further.

Thursday, March 15, 2012


I should be asleeeeeeeeeeeep....but I'm not. Because I have to get up in the morning, drive somewhere and be all coherent and shit. This is why I can't sleep. Bah. At least I finally remembered to call in my refill to the pharmacy /sheepish. Listening to all sorts of spoken word and Def Poetry Jam clips. Yay! I used to write stuff like that, then I lost the soul of my creativity. It's coming back to me slowly, which makes me happy :). I used to write daily, my dad wanted me to be a writer. I could pour everything onto paper and feel better. Sometimes I burned it and that helped to. Words, like music, are in my blood. Do I think this makes me some great person, writer, singer what have you? Not really. I don't do it for others, I do it for me. Because it makes ME feel good. That's why I'm actually utilizing this blog. For me. Because I want to be brave enough to bare myself to the world and say "See? This is me. If that's too much for you, move along, move along." That's why I posted the video of me singing, because I want to be brave enough to sing in front of people, not always falling silent when there aren't other voices to drown me out. Because my voice may not be perfect, but it's as warm and loving as I am. I don't claim perfection, status or some sort of superiority, I just want...Lordy, half the time I don't even know what I want. I want to be a word warrior and speak my spirit into those around me, learn courage, give courage, just...For how much words are a part of me and who I am and who I want to be, they just don't work to convey this feeling. In person, in person I'd hold my arms out in a gesture that would communicate it. Or I'd just run and glomp you, giving you the hug of DOOM ;). I'm good at that. Affection is kind of my "thing".
I've got the rumblies in my tummy. I'm not really down with cannibalism though.
I want to write a hardcore spinster song with my bfam. We tell each other stories of what our EPIC spinsterhood together will be. Heh. Heathcliff and Lyda and Midnight Margaritas...I don't want to exclude, I just don't know how to share these odd conversations without it devolving into a "You had to be there and you had to be us" type of explanation.
I'm tired, but I can't get to sleep, and I don't honestly have the attention span to watch anything right now. I'm topping out at 3 minutes of focus on any given video. Which means reading is right out. Well, maybe it wouldn't be if I could find the next book in the series that I placed a hold on and my brother picked up for me *yesterday* and I still can't figure out where I put it. One room! I'm living in a single room and I *still* manage to misplace things!
How much wood would a wood chuck chuck if a wood chuck could chuck wood? A wood chuck would chuck as much wood as a wood chuck could chuck if a wood chuck could chuck wood.
How much wood would a wood chuck chuck if a wood chuck was Chuck Norris? All of it. The Chuck Norris meme has made it into detergent commercials. *sigh* So sad when a meme that makes me smile becomes *that* mainstream. The WoW commerical was kind of fun, but Mr. T was better.
Sleep, why hast thou forsaken me?
My tummy is groooooowling. I'm huuuuuuungry.
Perhaps I shall try to watch something. Maybe even in English!....nah. Or maybe I'll watch Unstoppable High Kick. I mean, it's longer than 3 minutes, but it's still shorter than most of the stuff I watch...Or maybe I'll rewatch something, like...I dunno...something. *sigh* there's a lot of mental sighing going on. A little real life sighing too, but not nearly as much.
If I were a rich man da di da di da...I'd totally arrange a marriage with me. Except not. Because I'm CRAAAAZY. And if I were a rich man I could afford to be picky, because if there's one thing that commercials have taught me it's that all women are really whores. That's sarcasm. Heavy sarcasm. And very much a product of too much of my thought going into the content of commercials.
I've killed at least an hour ("Noooooo! What did it ever do to you?!"), so maybe I should try to sleep...or just give up and run around madly outside because the king of the potato people said Mr. Flibble Said So. I'd need a gingham dress, but it would work because I'm not patient enough to braid my hair into pigtails.
Good grief. This is ridonkulous. I like that word. My other favourite new word is "adorkable".

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