Disgustingly delicious

There is nothing quite so yummy - or scandalous - as a little pour of maple syrup over a pint of caramel hazelnut fudge truffle ice cream.  Especially in company with a gorgeously staged murder mystery on Netflix!

I am a coward

I wish I wasn't.

I can't imagine living my entire life alone - it seems impossible.  But then, so does growing old, and I'd prefer going old to the alternative.

But the idea of being alone, all day, with brief interludes when someone asks me to do something at work, with only my television and whatever robot voice-activated gadget I own in future - that just makes me shrivel up inside.

At least, no matter how pathetic my human relationships may be, I can always get a pet.  Crazy cat lady...here I come?

Nope

Not had easily...not had at all...there must be a difference, yes?

Who is he?

I don't know where shy ends and coy begins, nor do I know where coy ends and shy begins.  I do know that a shy smile, hiding and revealing so much all in one, is where the first heartbeat thumps and the dreams begin.

But once we begin to dream, then coy comes into play, and therein the danger lies.  Still, anything worth having isn't had easily.

Lay Flat to Dry

Who came up with "lay flat to dry"?  What kind of Martha-Stewart-Living freak imagines we all live in gigantic, airy houses with marble-clad bathrooms upon which we lay our $15 sweaters and $25 dresses flat to dry after hand-washing them in dedicated hand-wash basins, clearly with only the finest detergent Wal Mart has to offer?

I have a dress - a long dress - that's "lay flat to dry".  Right now it's hanging over the balustrade to my loft, approximately one-third of it on the roughly hewn wood, and the rest hanging off.  Sorry, label.  I just don't dry my dresses on my dining room table.

Out of Touch

I feel silly for asking, but how do all these women - who quit jobs as kindergarten teachers to become famous on Instagram for their bodacious rear ends - MAKE this money?  Can you monetize an Instagram?  It simply doesn't make sense to me - I've been blogging for years and I have earned $11 so far.  You think I'm joking!

If I were gorgeous and skinny, I'd so consider it though.  To be a millionaire just by taking selfies of my bum...it's tempting.

Does that make me a bad person?  Nah.  Just a broke, desperate grad student.

Cheat day

Spending today with football, novels, and cooking.  I have to snatch these days from life otherwise I'll go completely insane.  I need to be good and edit photos as well, but I'll do that while I'm watching Masterpiece tonight.

Two words: salmon cakes.

Exhausted

In spirit, in body, in soul.  I really don't know what to do about it.  Having today a quiet day, managed to get some work done but not nearly enough.  Wish I could bail on the department get-together tonight but I really can't.  I just want to get into my pinnie and paint and paint and paint without having to worry about how dirty I'm getting or being on time for anything.

I need to find some spirit. 

Sick

I'm so sick and tired of being sick and tired!

Just one word of advice:

Don't trust the blondes!

Sigh by night

So terribly tired!!  Been a long week, and I'm going out tonight.

But come tomorrow all I have to do is chores and laundry, and I can do them all at home - glorious, warm home!

(This apartment is still imperfect.  Particularly since the hot water heater still sucks and my best showers are warmish to put it kindly.  But it's much homier than work.)

And tonight, I will curl up in bed and sigh. 
Not cry.
Just sigh.
And look upon the starry night and dream of warm, cuddly clouds on which to sleep.
And admire the sparkling stars forming tiaras for the heavens.
And turn over and smile and drift away.

Replay

I wanna put this song on replay.

I need to listen to my heart all day.

I need to distract myself.

My heart hurts.

When I put this song on replay,
I forget a little bit.

It's about you.

But it's so beautiful I can forget you.

You're beautiful too.  Even though you've never told me that I am.

I'm gonna put this song on replay -
I'm gonna put this song on replay -
gonna distract me from me.

Sit down baby, this will only take a minute.

I'm going to put this song on replay.

And then...we'll get to that.

aren't you going to tell me?

"Why don't you want to kiss me?"

and we kissed

"that's not an answer"

and we kissed

"aren't you going to tell me?"

"No."

Sleep is platinum

If speech is silver,
if silence is golden,
then sleep is platinum.

Rare, beautiful, and better to have than anything else in one's jewelry box.

Ridiculous

It is highly ridiculous.  It's impossible, and what's more, it's improbable.

But I am happy.

So terribly tired

I'm so tired.  So terribly tired!  I try to dedicate myself to my work - and I've been doing quite well considering how out of the habit I got during that year "off" when I could stop whenever I wanted for a refreshing fairy tale - but it's draining me of energy.

I'm thankful for the work, it distracts me from the heartbreak, and I thank heaven you can block people from your facebook feed, and curse facebook for making me see my ex-boyfriend's new girlfriend's facebook posts about him when she and I have never met and are not facebook friends or have even commented on or liked any of the same posts.

Most of my department seems to be paired off already, so I must dree my weird alone.  Maybe I'll find a math major with a penchant for history.  Or not.

I ache all over, probably from sleeping on a foam mattress topper.  I can't wait to be able to afford a bed.  A real bed!  It'll be such luxury I might even feel rested some mornings after I get it.  Even billionaires can't buy feeling rested and healthy after a good night's sleep, no matter what silken glories they may sleep in.

Nervous Nellie

I submitted my novel to an agent last night...so incredibly nervous!  On the one hand, this is the very first person I've submitted this novel to, so I shouldn't expect them to take it - it usually takes dozens of tries at the very least...on the other hand, this is the woman who took on The Lightning Thief, and she's actively looking for similar authors...so it'd be foolish to not hope, right?

I don't know, but at least I've taken this step.  They say on the website that if you haven't heard from them in 6 weeks your novel isn't right for them, but I'm not sure I want to wait six weeks to submit to someone else, now that I've gotten the ball rolling...but maybe it's only fair to give them six weeks? 

This business stuff is so confusing...

"Once Upon a Moonlight"

I spent the morning swimming for exercise and enjoying the bright Florida sunlight.  I'm totally exhausted from my thesis, mentally and physically (insomnia is a bitch).  I wrote this poem the other night when I couldn't sleep, and share it here now.

Once upon a moonlight
of pale and starry trees
where frogs sang a saintly chorus
and owls floated on the breeze.
I stood upon the darkness
and reached into the clouds,
and as I humbly stood there
I finally screamed aloud.
For a single second,
the silence did abound.
And then the nightly chorus
did begin another round.
For my unbeoming screaming,
though from a spring deep and true,
had no place in the nighttime,
with its round of old and new.
The moon he hung so round and big,
staring at each starry leaf and twig,
indulgently smiled at my distress
as I pulled my hair and tore my dress,
reminding me of what he's seen -
from shell-swept Gallipolli to a new-crowned Queen,
and that my misfortunes are but a blot
on a small and insignificant plot.
A thousandth of an anthill, in
the fire of a thousand suns.
I must not be so foolish
as to feel I'm one of the few
to suffer the fire and agony
branded across my face, and heart too.
That I must produce a smiling visage,
if I wish to find any relief.
In celebrating the joys of others,
I may find some surcease
from the bitterest sort of hatefulness -
the agony of self-defeat.

Maybe I'm a different breed

Too hot; too cold, too weak, too strong, too much, never enough.

Who am I?  What have I become?

Breaking News: my band-aids never stick because I spend too much time washing myself clean.

If only one could wash away the guilt and the shame, the pain and the same, same, same over again.

It makes sense at the right time of the morning.

Put aside the logic for a moment - at what point does "I want" become "I need so desperately that missing this in my life could kill me"?

running in the night

Ha! I believed I had a chance! 

I'm in hell.


Hell.


Hell.


Hell.


Hell.


Burn me alive and end it all.