To be a daydreamer

Quite often I feel that I should be doing something more productive with my life. I wish I had both the funds and the initiative to be doing the things I want to be doing, instead of doing the typical college thing. Plus, I feel like I'm really really bad at being a student. Like...incredibly bad. Learning has never been my forte, despite my love affair with words and the English language, I have always failed to put forth the effort that is required to become a good student. I have hippie genes, and have always been more compelled to spend hours listening to new music or daydreaming or reading a book than to go to class or get homework done on time.
Even at this very moment I should be writing a paper for my English class and what am I doing instead? Playing Super Mario, blogging, and feeling guilty for cutting out of class early today. My head is always in the clouds, it's something that has at times been a good thing but in the vast majority of my life it has brought me down. Being a dreamer has its perks, but it can be a real fault at times.
My mind is constantly jumping from one thing to another, rapidly switching gears and topics like there's no tomorrow! I blame technology.
Anyway...I suppose I should start that paper now...but before doing so I thought I should inform you of a very important life altering decision I have made.
I have decided to purchase Season 1 and 2 of Breaking Bad...TOMORROW! Yes, shocking I know. I found both seasons on sale at Target for an incredibly good price and I figure it's a damn good way to spend one of my first paychecks from a job I am quickly starting to loathe.
Good day to you.

The Morning After

There is a certain variation of nausea that accompanies a hangover isn't there? A specific turmoil in your stomach gurgles, threatening to throw out all that alcohol you made it ingest last night. The tequilla that seemed so friendly at 2 A.M. is now having a full on fist fight with that shot of Southern Comfort. The light burrows into your eyes, and the throbbing in your brain is making you question your sanity.

There have been many claims made about the miracle hangover cure, but from personal experience I'm gonna go ahead and say there is no miracle. Just a test of your will power as you wonder whether or not you could eat a saltine cracker without vomiting.

On top of the physical pain that forces you to wear sunglasses indoors and repress the urge to puke, there is the emotional turmoil of remembering what terribly embarrasing act you may have commited the night before. The cringe enducing trip down memory lane in which you may recall tripping in front of large groups of people, vomiting in public places, or in my friend's case, cuddling with a corn dog. The blurry memories of it all only add to what is always the worst morning ever.

I myself awoke this morning with a hell of a hangover, it was out for vengeance. So being the suave internet whiz that I am, I trolled the web for possible solutions to this unique feeling of sickness. One blog boasted that exercise was the only way to burn through even the worst of morning after comatose. So, being desperate, I decided to attempt some kickboxing type stuff that I had been doing for the past few weeks. Little did I know this would actually lead me to feel as if my stomach was in a blender. The next thing I tried was a hot shower, this made me feel dehydrated. The final attempt was some hot soup which was consumed about an hour ago, and now I am lying in the fetal position wrapped up in a heavy blanket staring at my computer screen wondering where my life went wrong.

Moral of the story? The morning after is horrible and should be avoided at all costs.

These are a few of my favorite things

It seems that lately I've been easily distractable, always daydreaming about filling the empty white pages sprawled out before me, waiting to be filled with the choices I make and the places I go. But the choices I will make are a ways off and for now I tend to thrive on obsession. I have a 'thing' for many things. This is the jist of what my mind is constantly focused on.

1) Aaron Paul. I would say my this has definately reached obsession level. I mean, it's clearly just an incredible desire for new Breaking Bad which I cannot have until July. But still, I follow the fuckyeahaaronpaul tumblr, and the Breaking Bad blog. Plus I've spent many an hour trolling the web for random interviews and appearances made by this handsom fellow.

2) Owls. This is nothing new, I've had a fondness for owls for a couple of years, but it is definately one of the things I love to track down. Anything printed with owls, owl shaped, or relatively owl related catches my eye quite easily. For example, I have a large overstuffed orb shaped owl named Oliver residing on my bed right now. I am resting on him as I write this in fact.




3) Waterfalls. This is one of those things I just strive to find. I associate waterfalls with the life I want to lead, uninhibited and free. Plus waterfalls are almost always located in beautiful places that I want to see and or live in. I will probably spend the rest of my life making detours to swim in waterfalls.

4) The planning of my trip to California this summer. Every free moment in which my brain is emptied of all things interesting, my thoughts wander to California. Especially now, with two feet of snow covering my silver Alero parked in the driveway. The piers, the sun, the fresh fruit, the music. Odds are that I love the idea of California more than I will actually love the place. But it's a great way to spend time daydreaming.

Sooooooooo

The sun has once again fled from the sky and Michigan is stuck with gray clouds and enormous amounts of snow. It has been snowing since about 5 o' clock yesterday afternoon plus, as an added bonus, there have been on and off showers of freezing rain! Score!
So basically I've been holed up in my living room, body covered completely with heavy blankets to save money on heating, spending endless hours trolling the internet.
I have also managed to drag myself up a couple of times to either put a new movie in the VCR (yah I still use a VCR, what about it?) or to spend the required amount of time exercising in order to not nix everything I've done for my diet so far.
The highlight of the past 24 hours would definately be The Fly, a classic 80's movie about a man turning into an insect, which is suprisingly still very creepy. As well as Fight Club. Although I have already seen Fight Club far too many times to count, I still enjoy watching it for various reasons. You know, like seeing if I can mouth along with every word like a big creep, or just to see Meatloaf in all his glory as 'Bitch Tits Bob'. Good times.
So I'm stuck here dreaming of California beaches and a thermometer that reads above 15 degrees. I even cleaned voluntarily due to pure unadulterated boredom. That is frightening. Anyway, not a whole lot else to update on. Weight loss is up to about 13 pounds, and my will power is being tested by endless cravings for french fries. My classes are still going as well as can be expected. And Spring break plans are coming together. So until next time dear readers, I bid you adieu.

Not A Valentines Day Post

Even though today is that fabled day of anatomically incorrect hearts and Halllmark crafted sentiments ready made in a box of chocolates, I'm not going to write a post about it. Because truly, this day has no effect on my whatsoever. It's just another day in the life. My romantic plans are to clean the house, do laundry, paint my toenails, and then go to class. Wooooooooo!

Anywho, what I really wanted to write about is my excitement for next year. The thing is that I actually have no plan whatsoever for what I'm doing, and it thrills the crap out of me. I can literally do anything I want to, I can move anywhere as long as the city has a community college and a job for me. I realize these plans are a bit naive and perhaps a bit childish, but its exhilarating to know I can go wherever the wind blows me. Yah, I just used that cliche, that's what's up.

So also Im taking a road trip across this beautiful country of ours this summer all the way from my home in Michigan, to the sunny harmony of California. I can't put into words how excited I am for this trip. As is probably clear by now, I love travelling. I especially love road trips where there's someone else to share the driving. There's no feeling in the world quite like the breeze in your hair, barefeet out the window, and something acoustic playing through the speakers. So hopefully I can stick with all the things I've been trying to do, I.E., saving money and losing weight. And by this summer, I will be headed to California with a new look and some money in my pocket. Also, perhaps a tattoo...but more on that later.

Beautiful.

I awoke the morning of my trip to the Caribbean at 6 a.m. after tossing and turning and twisting my blankets until 3 in the morning. My mind never lets me sleep when I want to. Instead I spent the night with too many thoughts roiling in my brain, too many choices to make. I showered and got in the car, arrived at the Detroit airport and stared longingly at muffins packed with calories, bacon egg and cheese sandwiches tempting my will. Instead I opted for the 12 animal crackers in my backpack knowing the exact caloric intake in each mammal shaped cookie.
I boarded, zone 5, seat 17D. I thanked my lucky stars for the aisle seat and resisted the urge to make jokes about Fight Club to the boy next to me as the flight attendant pointed to the cardboard foldout with the evacuation procedures on it. Besides, he was wearing a Carharrt jacket, I didn't think he would get it.
I had a connecting flight in North Carolina where I also got the opportunity to meet the worst person ever. Her name was Rachel. She was the devil reincarnate. This flight took me to San Juan where the trip officially began. The first stop from here was Curacao, a small island that has a mix of underdeveloped neighborhoods and tourist infested areas, beautiful old forts turned into outdoor strip malls. The houses all had red tiled roof the color of burned bricks and the air smelled like salt and coffee.
The next stop was Aruba. Beautiful beaches, white sand, soft and fine. Hot sun and slow turning ceiling fans in outdoor cafes. I drank a cocktail called a summer breeze and wore sunglasses that looked like Audrey Hepburn's in Breakfast at Tiffany's. The houses were the color of popsicles and the locals were all bored with their jobs. Everything was expensive, nine dollars for a beer, eleven dollars for a mixed drink.
After Aruba was Dominica, my favorite of all the islands. We took the bus past double rainbows sprouting from the mountainside and dark skinned vendors, weather worn with watery blue eyes looking out from under their Rastafarian hats. Selling ginger soda and island remedies. The twisting roads took us to the rain forest bordering the Emerald Pools. We hiked the slanted terrain until we were staring down at a breathtakingly beautiful waterfall that roared into a pool filled with lush green plants. We jumped from a high rock into the ice cold water, fresh as a new rainfall. I floated on my back staring at the blue sky dappled with tall green life, white clouds, cliffs rubbed smooth. It was the happiest moment of my whole life. I think I'll forever carry it with me, pull it out when I'm feeling lost.
It's amazing the things you miss when you live so many months in the snow and wind of Michigan. Wearing a t-shirt outside, the sun warming your face, bare feet in the grass, bronze skin glowing warm in the sunshine. I got a taste of all these things this week. I never wanted to come back.