HERE

Holy rusted nails, Batman! Where have I been lately? What have I been doing? Especially, now that school is out I should have all the time in the world.  Which leaves me all the time in the world to do nothing. Maybe my nothing is someone's something, or maybe so much of my something has felt like nothing lately that now my nothing has become something. Makes sense, right?
Entertaining a random drunk in a parking lot and eating tacos at 10p.m. to counter a six hour long happy hour sounds like nothing. As does watching hours of reality TV, or getting buzzed with the little brother...it does feel like I've been here before.  Right now summer gives time, and I appreciate that. Without it, the summer heat would seem to be a waste. So I will savor what it gives me and move on with the wave.

Monday is Coming

sip

Part of my morning is a cup of coffee.  Decafe or not, hot or cold, the day has officially started when I have a cup in hand.  

work it, or don't

I have a number of pet peeves that reveal themselves particularily bluntly at my place of physical training, that is the gym. For one, why do your clothes need to be cute? Things do not need to be pink or glittery. And a full face of make-up is not very condusive to the sweat you should plan on sliding down your face. There is a certain someone, whom I never interact with and should then maybe let it go, but who also has a flair in her mien guaranteed to catch your attention, which I'm sure is its whole purpose. The rolled up pant leg, the slicked back hair, the strategically exposed belly piercing. Oh, and the sisters seem to be pushed up front. If you could move aside, I would really like to access the machine you're leaning against while you talk to that guy. 
Tattoos, though I understand are meant to be seen, aren't necessarily meant to be had. I can point out three different gentelmen who sport rather identical flames crawling up their calf muscles - that's right, muscles, on both legs. If somethings is to be said for that I can't figure it out. Maybe, he can beat me to the machine...?
I'm one for pluggin' my phones in my ears and blairing the music without any attention to who's looking.  I'm sure they are - my swinging elbows, by throat clearing, my soaked t-shirt, my frizzled hair - but my shoes are pretty ballin'.  They should look at those. 

Breaking and Fixing

"it's all insane if you think about it. how things are made. how things break. who fixes the unfixable. who stays and who cannot. it's a heartbreaking tightrope walk every minute of every day. don't look down, don't look up, just fix your eyes straight ahead. there's tomorrow. there's another chance. there's better, there's worse, there's richer and poorer and ice cream for dinner and warm socks fresh from the dryer and sunsets that make you want to stick around to see it come back up again. there will be those shit shit shit moments and a whole lot of mortified."


A lot of things have seemed broken lately.  Some have seemed broken for awhile, and others are more recent. Like the new season has brought on some new challanges. Whether I break or others break, or whoever is doing the breaking, there seems to be a call to go shopping for new things. But then the old things are still broken and you have to look at them or pitch them....so, what to do? If someone were to let me know, it would probably go something like the above.


from MackinInk; she's just lovely

Its Here

Spring. 

You Vs. Them Vs. Me

I've been having arguments with my father about, well, everything.  Arguements may be too defined, but "disagreements" is too kind, and that is what we haven't been.  I hear people, or mostly my mother, say "You two are so much alike"and that is apparently why we have a hard time seeing eye-to-eye. I'm not sure what we're seeing, except maybe the other one in our own way.   He goes on and on, I let out a big sigh and then he goes on some more because I'm not going on....or because my sigh is going on.  If you're confused about the whole thing imagine how I feel.

Sometimes I want to throw something across the room and have it shatter a window just to get his attention, because its not about the window.  Its not about the window, or the drawer in the fridge, or the stack of things on the table, or the stain on the carpet.  But I suppose its easier to make it about one of those things than one of the other things, right? Because if its about one of the other things, that means its about YOU, and no one wants it to be about them. Not even me.