August 25th 2010

*Disclaimer: This blog entry's purpose is to encourage me to write. That's all. I'm just writing about my (incredibly lame and boring) day. Any conclusions drawn other than "well, alright" are purely coincidental.*

I woke up this morning FREEZING. I swear I could see my breath. (I really couldn't, but I almost felt like it) After shivering for a few moments, I checked my phone, both to note the time and make sure I had no messages. Why I would have a message is beyond me, it was 8:43. The only person to think of messaging me that early would be Jessie, because she's two hours ahead of me. But, she knows better than to communicate before 10:00 my time, anyway. Smart kid.

As I was saying, it was 8:43 and I was cold. "Freezing" is the word I think I used. Yes, freezing was the word. That's what I was. After dropping the phone back on my "nightstand" (I use the term loosely, for it really isn't a nightstand at all; more of a tower of plastic drawers I got at Wal-mart, but it's the surface closet to the bed and therefore used as if it were, indeed, a nightstand) I tried to go back to sleep. Those efforts were fruitless, though. What's the first thing you have to do when you wake up...? That's right. I had to pee.

But, it was so cold! To go to the loo would mean getting out from under the snugly blankets, and away from the two warm cat bodies keeping me alive. With a little (or loud and pathetic) whimper, I crawled out of the bed and dashed to the little girl's room; which, I feel the need to add, is clear down the hall and entirely too far away from my bedroom.

After that business was taken care of I went back to my room and stared at my pile of dirty laundry. It took me quite some time to find what I was looking for. Mind you, I did not have my glasses on, nor had I any coffee, so this could have gone on for several hours. Any who, I finally found my fleece pants, and plucked a pair of socks out of the drawer. The pants went on over my Star Wars (that's right, STAR WARS) shorts, and the socks were pulled onto my little feeties. And, what do you know? My purple hooded jacket is right there next to my laundry pile (Alright, it was IN the laundry pile) Think I'm going to resist that on this frigid morning? On goes the jacket. Zip goes the zipper. The hood is flung over my head, and I crawl back under the blankets. I go back to sleep for another hour.

Ah, the life of the unemployed.

After waking up (again) I go on with my day. Two cups of coffee, check the Facebook, the Tumblr, the e-mail, and watch my programs. In case you're curious those would be: Young and the Restless, and Passport to Europe with Samantha Brown. Today's featured destination was Salzburg, Austria. Dudes! That place looks extraordinary. A four hour tour of the Sound of Music filming locations?! Sign me the up! Not to mention many historical Mozart attractions to be seen. Seriously, so cool.

Now that my morning "routine" was completed I decided to get done what needed to be done. Just before I make my way to the bathroom to wash my face, however, I smell it. That specific smell I smelled the day before, but ignored. Today, it was stronger. *sniff sniff* Yep. That's something dead. Where is it...? I check under the couch, in case the cat did something gross with a mouse. Nothing. But... this is where it smells the most. What's behind the couch? The window. What's in the window well? A nice dead duck. Lovely.

Can I just say how sad I am for this duck? Not only are they one of the only birds I'm not afraid of, but they're just cute and have some cool characteristics. Also, the way my window well sits under the upstairs windows, the duck had to have gotten stuck down there, and then died. So sad. I could have saved her had I known she was in trouble. I'm sorry little girl duck. I'm really sad that that happened to you.

So, my uncle takes care of the duck, and (after lighting a scented candle for awhile) my basement smells much better. I now proceed with my day's events.

I clean myself up, put on the makeups, and style the hair. After selecting an outfit of a black skirt, blue polo, and flip flops I head out the door. Where do I go? Only to the amazing Walgreen's! One prescription refill for Kim please. Fifteen minutes later, drugs in hand, I decide: "I'm this close to the coffee house, I may as well pop over there for a tea and a quiet read". So, that's exactly what I do. My white orchid tea was delectable, and my current read is particularly enchanting, so it was nice. A nice looking guy came in, about half an hour after I got there. I made eye contact, then went back to reading; thinking he'll think I'm cute and come over to flirt.

He didn't.

After a little while I pack it up and go home. My tea was about gone, and I wanted to tidy up my living room now that the unpleasant odor had left (aw, I'm still sad about it). That ended up only taking a few moments, I'm a rather clean person, I guess. So what do I do? Throw my bed comforter in the washer and play chess.

After the computer kicked my ass a couple hundred times, I elect to call it quits and help out with dinner. Uncle Scotty showed me his way of making biscuits and gravy, which I found fascinating. It was damn good, too. I'm glad my appetite is returning. I missed it, wholeheartedly.

And that brings me to where I decide to blog whilst I digest. Here I am. Blogging. Digesting. What an eventful life I lead.

Out the Window

Yeah... That 30 day letter writing challenge will not be continued. Some of the "people" I was to write letters to, I either don't want to think about or don't know. So, I quit. That's right. I QUIT.

Suck it.

In other news: I've decided to pick up chess as a hobby. Not only will it teach me patience, but I may also learn some important warfare tactics. Just in case I become a world leader. You never know. I like to keep my options open.

That is all.

Farewell... I Guess

I'm pretty sure the young man I spoke of before is gone. Buh-bye, have a nice life, go to hell, peace out, gone. While I'm not entirely sure what happened, I'm assuming it has something to do with the wedding I invited him too and/or something that may or may not have been said by a mutual acquaintance.

I've got to be honest, I'm a little sad about it. It's been so very, very, long since I've been smitten with a boy. For me to "like a guy" who "likes me back" is... rare. There have only been a few of these isolated events. I can count them on one hand. And, I don't even need the whole hand!

Through my entire, solitary, existence I've told myself to recognize certain behaviors and get out if said behaviors show themselves. Therefore, I have decided to cut him loose. Even though he is the one who, quite suddenly, refused all "hang outs" and then stopped responding at all, I'm going to let him. With a heavy heart, I'm not going to cause a struggle. He wins.

And now, this weekend, I'm going to attend my cousin's wedding. Surrounded by family (who harbor feelings that I'm a homo because I never seem to have a date) and couples both young and old. Not to mention I've never been camping without Grandpa. I'm not looking forward to hanging out where I spent many a summer with my grandpa, and him not being there.

I'm finding there are many elements of this weekend weighing my down:

• No Grandpa where he should be
• Happy pairs of people scattered about
• Family members who are "concerned" about me
• Booze everywhere

The above issues are the reasons I invited my gentleman friend to accompany me. For once, it would be nice to enjoy myself at one of these events. To not feel awkward, or to have someone to snicker with. Maybe, dare I say, take a walk with or hold my hand if I'm feeling overwhelmed. I guess it's just not meant to be.

And you know what? I really and truly don't think he even cares. He's just fine in watching me walk away. Shit, he probably won't even watch. In fact, if he reads this (he won't) he'll be relieved. "Ha ha, dodged that bullet."

I'm sad about it, though. Don't know why and I hate myself, but I'm sad.

ADHD

I've recently (as in moments ago) had some enlightening thoughts about ADHD. While I have been diagnosed with it, I don't suffer too badly. Other people suffer the effects of me more than I do. But, that is not the the purpose of this random post.

I was thinking about what my ADHD actually does to me. Specifically, it's more of a communication problem. My brain doesn't stay on track. It goes too fast, leading me to tangents and seemingly off topic streams of conversation. While, for me, it's all connected to what I or we were previously talking about, to others it appears as if I can't have a real discussion. Some days, it's worse than other days. It just depends on my current mental cycle, and how in control I feel.

Now, that being said, not everyone has this same type of problem. Some people find it's more of a physical, outward issue. Can't sit still, short attention span, bored easily, yada yada yada.

This, my friends, is what leads me to my recent thoughts. I don't really know the "medical" or "technical" specifics of adult ADHD. After that disclaimer, I am wondering if there are at least two different versions of symptoms in existence. Internal or external.

Most people I've come across with adult ADHD are external. They project their "all over the place" sort of demeanor. You see them gaining boredom. You see their attention snap to something (that appears to you) completely new.

I, on the other hand, turn it inward. I harbor it in my mind. When something causes me to lose attention, my brain follows it. All the while, my outward attention seems to remain on the subject at hand. It's not. That's just an illusion. I look like I'm paying attention, but my thoughts are on why that ladybug has chosen that leaf as opposed to the one closer to the stem that seems thicker and more likely to support his or her weight. Why do we have to call boy ladybugs "ladybugs"? Why can't we call the "gentlemen bugs"? You know they're going to have all kinds of insecurities about that. Every single one of them may have developed homophobia. I hate that. How can you be afraid of gay people. They're cool. Is it only the really feminine ones some people are afraid of? I'm not afraid of straight boys, and they can hit on me at any moment. They don't. Only the really drunk ones do, and then they usually only talk to me after they've been shot down by all my other friends. That's not really fair. Not that I want drunken men slobbering over me. It's the principal of the situation. Maybe it's cause I'm not a size two anymore. Damn, I looked good when I was that small. I felt like shit, but it was totally worth it. I really like food, though. Ah, the eternal struggle of woman vs. food. Will it ever end? Oh, shit... I'm supposed to be listening. What just happened?

You see?! That's what I do.

Lately, it's been worse. It happens when I'm speaking. My mind drifts away, until I'm all caught up in my own head. I'm usually not that bad. If I'm having a particularly ADHD day I can usually fake my way through conversations. Then, I can avoid people for awhile, until I'm more focused.

It's exhausting, I tell you!

Oh, look. We've gone off topic again. Many apologies. Where was I? Oh, yes.

I simply wanted to state that, while some or most ADHD people are visually, or physically ADHD; some are silently, internally ADHD.

As I said before, I really don't know that much about it. I'm ashamed to admit that my knowledge on the subject is minimal. I should do more reading on it, however I just wanted to jot down some thoughts I was having. Lately, I've noticed my communication skills (skills I once bragged about) losing their edge. I let my mind wander on the subject, and this is what I came up with.

Do with it what you will.

Oh, How the Mighty Have Fallen

I know, I know... I'm terribly unsuccessful with the latest 30 day challenge I foolishly accepted. There are legitimate reasons, however. Some people and things I just don't currently feel like giving thought to. Like the last letter; hence the minimal length of said letter. Any who, that being said, I'm feeling the need to just write about my life.

Things have been so out of control, up in the air, semi-overwhelming for me as of late. While I am keeping my emotions and actions under complete control, it still seems as though the world may very well be crashing down on me. Why, you ask? Excellent question. I have determined these are possible factors of my inevitable downfall:

I had to quit my job.

It had to happen. I'm just not healthy enough to continue. I still can't stomach enough food to keep me from feeling faint when standing for long periods of time, and I'm so over that lovely nauseated feeling that washes over me. Now, I can (hopefully) regroup and regain the health status I was once so proud of.

My medication has been "adjusted".

This throws me for a loop every time. Regardless of what it is, or how much, it takes me weeks to months for me to get back to "normal". It's as if I can't trust anything. Nothing is real. Everything is a direct effect of the new reality and therefore has to be evaluated and analyzed until it fits the mold of my life. Which, is also new. I'm still not sure where every nook and cranny is; therefore, not only is everything new and foreign, but I'm not sure if it's going to fit or not. It's like I've got some cherry jello, sitting in a jello mold of a cute,little dome. I take it out of the mold, and put it into the mold of a star. Well, shit... it doesn't fit. Now I either make all new jello, in a different flavor of lime, being as I'm out of cherry, or I scramble it all up so it will fit the new mold. Which means it won't have any shape or structure and everything is loose and insecure. What is one's best option? Whole new flavor and shape you know absolutely nothing about, or same flavor you know but can't trust because it's unstable? Lime star, or cherry pile of crap?

That was weird.

So... There's this boy.

The likelihood of him reading this blog is so small, I can't even see it. Therefore he is now, officially, going to be mentioned. Gasp! Boy is... interesting. I like him. Duh. That's not so much the problem. The real problem is more of a "I always fall for the guy who isn't available" kind of thing. Surprise surprise. Alright, let's back it up a bit, shall we? Boy is smart, funny and um... very nice looking. I find his level of intelligence both intimidating and refreshing. His voice is inspiring and entertaining at the same time. I'm so intrigued by him and his opinions from world views to film that I can't seem to stop thinking about him. AND, I HATE THAT. There are a number of rules I've set for myself to keep things like this from happening. I've broken a few of them for him, and I hate myself for that. Not to mention he insists on being this "cool guy" who is a complete bastard. Why I even give him the time of day is beyond me. Why he even gave me a second look is more of a wonder. I am so angry. I'm angry at him for choosing to be aloof and an asshole, and I'm angry at myself even more for liking the asshole.

By no means have I been hurt by this boy and his actions. Granted, said "actions" (or lack thereof) are potentially hurtful. *Disclaimer* No, a girl doesn't get angry when you make no effort whatsoever to speak to her. That only makes her feel unwanted, rejected and hurt. It, in no way, makes you look bad ass or cool. Just unintelligent. Sometimes you have a good thing standing right in front of you, and you're either too afraid or too dense to see it. Pull your head out of your ass fast, dude. She won't be there forever.

Through all of these ordeals flying at me, I've come to the conclusion that I am either incredibly, so far above, genius... or insanely stupid.

The jury's still out.