True Love

Sometimes I want to be mean to my cat. I just want to squeeze her lights out till she can't meow anymore.

But I don't. I mean, I can't. So instead I tell her I'm going to noogie her really hard. Like really hard.
*insert evil laugh*

Damn, I was going for "pensive."

have you ever wanted to write about your life? tell your story? be heard?
if you did, what would it say?

i've asked myself this question a thousand times, but i can never really pin the answer. it's almost as if my story has a million beginnings, but they never really add up to much more than a few failed ideas. this saddens me.

i suppose my problem lies in the fact that i don't really know what i want for myself. don't get me wrong - i want stuff. i want to be stuff. i want to create. but i don't know what i'm meant to be, or have, or to create. and it is frustrating.


in other news: i ate way too much pizza. like the sickening, full-until-tomorrow's-lunch kind of too much. and it's making me feel doubly saddened.

long time no type

i got my little laptop back in action as of this morning. i can't do any graphic work on it like my desktop, but i friggin LOVE the little keyboard. something about how tiny it is makes me just want to type and type till the sun don't shine (which actually is probably pretty soon).

what is it about miniature things that makes them so lovable? perhaps it's the vulnerability. like kittens. they're so tiny and fragile and i just want to scoop them up and squish them. sometimes i think there's a Lennie (from Of Mice and Men) in everyone - except that most of us eventually learn limits. freakin' Lennie. what the heck, right?

Rock-bottom

did i ever tell you i'm LDS? well, an in-active member, but a member no less. for years i've grappled with the idea of going back to church, only to be Stone-Cold-Stunner-ed back to my doubts. there are some LDS concepts that i don't think i'll ever be able to come to terms with. however, it must be said that active members are probably the most persistent people on the planet; i can't seem to shake 'em.
i'm beginning to think it's a sign. but a sign for what? i really don't know. i don't know if i'm up for another Stunner, because, let's face it - that crap hurts!

                                                                                               

my boyfriend's birthday is coming up, so i am sitting up at 3 am in despair and heartbreak. i still have no job and no immediate prospects.

i have begun posting my resume in all sorts of places i never would've dared and dream about rejection emails. this has to be rock-bottom. please let it end!

old blog. a little too old.

it's been a while ... crap. that song just came into my head. 90's ballad or whatever. ugh. all i need. ha.

anyway. my internet has been out at my house. apparently we've been a whole month behind on the thing and have only been paying the previous month's debt this whole time. since i'm not prepared to pay the whole amount as of yet, the internet will have to wait. in other words - so will you. (in terms of reading this blog.)

a few days ago the aparment office sent out a 48 hr-notice saying they'd be doing roach pest control for the complex. oh joy. per the notice, we had to move all our crap into the middle of the rooms - and i mean all of it. every cabinet, drawer, closet, and storage area. it was like moving out.

btw, everyone who's been within earshot of me has heard this story and is probably sick of hearing about it. well, guess what? it pissed me off so much that now those same people (if in fact they read my blogs) are going to have to read about it, too. OR! they can just skip this part. if they want. y'know?...cuz they might be sick of it. ...

so after the whole pesticide thing we declared that we have way too much junk. thus, instead of throwing everything back where it was (anywhere we could cram it, basically) i began going through everything of mine to downsize. i didn't get rid of half of my stuff, which i had been aiming for, but i did let go of a ton of clothes, books, and other miscellaneous thing-a-muh-bobs.

i feel lighter. and even though i said i'd post some of the stuff on facebook for friends to have first dibs, when the time came i donated all of it. i just needed to be rid of it. i think that if i had gone through with typing it all out i would've started to justify why i had all of it in the first place and then it would've all ended up back in the bottom of my closet (or other cramming places). plus, some kid might not have ended up with my Tigger shirt, denim skirt with the gaudi broach thing, or endless collection of plastic dinosaurs. (don't worry...i kept most of them...)

i do feel a little sad, though. *sigh*

i'm so awesome. there. i said it.

it's been a while since my last blog. some stuff has happened.


firstly, i would like to discuss the relocation of Jessa. as you all DON'T know, Jessa is a feral cat. she hates, or is deathly afraid of, humans and the like. also, she never belonged to me or my boyfriend. she was adopted by my sister who, for a long time, could not keep her (hence her staying with us and our 2 cats, Caska and Bobcat).
a couple of weeks past, my sister took her back. Bobcat took a field trip with Jessa and was scared out of her mind about it (being her first time in a cat carrier). it is safe to say that at this juncture in time, Jessa is being housed well.
However, Bobcat has her own opinions of the situation and will give an account at a later time.

the second thing i'd like to mention is that i have caught up with The Secret Life of the American Teenager. i LOVE that show. it's re-donk-u-lus, i know - but i really do. i'm just wishing and waiting for the day that Adrian will wear less lip gloss, Grace will become liberal, and Amy will grow up. seriously. how is she the mother of a kid and yet she seems to be the most spoiled, selfish brat to walk the planet? even in a suburb like that - with MOLLY RINGWALD for a mother, no less. yeesh.

in addition to The Secret Life, my other sister (@ocie7up) has gotten me hooked on Bones. the show is about the very interesting life of a forensic anthropologist who works with a steamy FBI agent (Booth, or David Boreanaz) and a team of scientists who solve murder investigations. it's awesome.
watch it. love it.

third on the list of subjects to discuss is the fact that i've had some job interviews. it's been slow cooking, but i'm hopeful.

the last subject to discuss is about remembering lost thought patterns from inebriation. ha. have you ever been so out of it, that the next day you had no idea what you were thinking when you wrote this down:

"Rome's tax system during the time of the last Caesar's reign."
OR
"OC's homework. Jonas Brothers. Nick J. Jemi. Blog."
OR
"pockets"

OR drew this:

For Shame

i'm having an affair. there. i said it. it's all out in the open. i'm a cheater. a filthy scumbag.

so i wrote a letter.

being that this is a first draft, maybe you could proofread for me...?


LETTER:

Dear Cherry Coke,

I love you. But I need to take a break. You will never stop being delicious to me - ours is a deep and effortless love. I did something very wrong - you know what...and I want to work things out. But I think in order to do that I need to clear my head and see where this road leads to. Please don't be mad at Coke, either. It's not Coke's fault - it's all mine. I know you probably don't want to see me...but if you want to talk you can find me on Facebook or Twitter (@micheon).


Love,
Micheon