I like getting new books. Even if I have no time to read them because of school.
Speaking of school, I am currently trying to write a poem...that rhymes...which I have to read in front of the class. I am discovering the wonders of RhymeZone.com and now I know why Charlie McDonnell wrote a song about it. A song that is currently in my head, of course.
Anyway, talk about books. Or something.
P.S. I am becoming increasingly fond of vertical pictures. I used to hate them, but now...I don't. Just so you know. 'Cause it's very important.
I was in a drawing mood a few days ago. Thus, this. It's from a photo of a flower I found in a magazine.
I couldn't decide if that picture made it look better or worse, but I'm too lazy to take another one, so that's what you get. Actually, I think it looks better if you scoot a few feet away and squint your eyes and pretend I can draw. Just kidding...
My journal is the clearest evidence that I spend more time in my head than anywhere else. All those pages of psychoanalysis and ramblings are what I deal with every day, in a much less organized manner. My mind is both a terrible and delightful place to be. Terrible, lately, because it's crazy in there and nothing makes sense, and it's awfully depressing a lot of the time. It can be delightful when it's a place for memories and wishes and dreams to convalesce but when those thoughts that inhabit it aren't as lovely, well, that's when I need to get out.
I need an escape, and there are all sorts. Sometimes, I listen to music but more often than not I find a way to relate the lyrics to my life and end up overthinking again. So I read a book or watch TV. I pretend I'm at Hogwarts or Downton Abbey and I pretend the characters are real, because even though there is ugliness in them, too, they can never hurt me. Everything from my world is forgotten when I slip into theirs.
Maybe so much escapism isn't healthy but certainly being immersed in reality all the time isn't ideal, either.
It's what I do for fun. Today I took the Jung Typology Test, which basically categorizes you as one of sixteen personality types based on questions you answer. Obviously it's not perfect but it's surprisingly accurate and I find stuff like this insanely interesting, anyway. I got INFP, which stands for Introspective iNtuitive Feeling Perceiving.
"INFPs are introspective, private, creative and highly idealistic individuals that have a constant desire to be on a meaningful path. They are driven by their values and seek peace. Empathetic and compassionate, they want to help others and humanity as a whole. INFPs are imaginative, artistic and often have a talent for language and writing. They can also be described as easygoing, selfless, guarded, adaptable, patient and loyal." (via) This part especially jumped out at me, because I was actually just going to write my occasional paper for English on that very subject:
"INFPs do not like conflict, and go to great lengths to avoid it."
"They may be awkward and uncomfortable with expressing themselves verbally, but have a wonderful ability to define and express what they're feeling on paper." (via)
I think it's pretty spot on.
In addition, among the jobs listed were artist, photographer, & writer, which made me happy. Take it here and tell me what you get! Doooo it!
On Saturday I went to some thrift stores just to look around. Vintage clothing stores are cool, but what I really like are the ones that house all sorts of old-fashioned nick-nacks. It's like stepping back into time, almost, which is a really cliche thing to say but it's also true.
picture actually taken at anthro at while ago. but it fit.
I love walking around and discovering all sorts of treasures. Among other things, I saw: globes, many of which I could tell were old because they still said "Yugoslavia"; typewriters; a Polaroid camera that I admired for a while but didn't end up getting because I couldn't justify getting another (film) camera so soon after receiving one; lots of other old cameras; rotary telephones in every color of the rainbow; a plethora of fantastic ugly sweaters; many cat figurines that reminded me of the room I always stay in at my grandpa's house; records, 8 tracks, 45s; the occasional turntable; vintage Valentines and greeting cards.
One of the stores also had this sizable collection of random old photographs dating back to the sixties and probably before. I thought about how strange it might be to be browsing there and see yourself or someone you know in a picture. A lot of them looked similar to ones I'd seen of my parents when they were little, with that same faded nostalgic feel of film.
I ending up getting a National Geographic from July 1955 because it's in great condition and has really cool pictures and ads and it's just really awesome overall.
Then my dad got coffee and I got iced tea and I had somewhat of an epiphany, which is that I don't actually like iced tea very much. It's okay, I guess, but I don't know why I always order it. Probably because everything else on the menu is scary sounding. I like hot tea, but the iced version just doesn't do it for me. I'm going to try something new next time. The rest of the day consisted of going to my sister's basketball game and going out for Chinese food for dinner. When I got home for the night I decided to start watching Downton Abbey from the first season. I'm very glad I did. I watched the first four episodes in two nights and I plan on keeping that up.
The best part about Sunday was getting frozen yogurt and watching TV.
And today? It's really overcast and gray out and I'm still in my pajamas. There is some leftover homework I must attend to, but I think it's going to be a pretty lazy day.
These are some of what is contained within this post. (Also a creek and a cat who kept following us around.) My friends Claudia and Mayrose came over last weekend for a photo shoot thing. (I know, last weekend. I can never post anything on time, much to the distress of SOME PEOPLE.) The clothes and the candles are courtesy of Claudia (unintentional alliteration!). She has lovely taste in that sort of thing. (They also both have quite a talent for making faces, but unfortunately for you, you do not get to see those pictures. Right now.) Anyway. Here are some of pictures. There are a lot, and this isn't even all of them.
Don't worry, Claudia's not dead. And we didn't light the candles. If we did my house would probably be nothing but a pile of ashes right now! Okay, maybe not.
Also, I lied. We did light the candles for a little bit. But nothing else caught on fire. I think things not catching on fire is a sign of a successful shoot, am I right?
These next ones are probably my favorite, because of the lighting and soft focus and the general dreaminess I guess. It's like woodland fairies celebrating a sunny winter day! It was really warm that day.
Here's how it works. The amount of time I have for blogging is inversely related to my desire to blog. So right now, when I'm busy and should be working on homework, or at the very least showering so I can get to bed at a somewhat reasonable time, I felt the need to blog. Not that I have the slightest idea of what I'm going to say. I've started a few drafts recently and they all sort of deteriorate into me ranting about everything from school to cynicism. This might be the same; I make no promises.
I think there's something about January just makes me really depressed. At the very beginning, when we were still on break, I was pretty happy, but then school started and it's been on a downhill since. Sorta. I think it hit rock bottom yesterday when I spent a good fifteen minutes after getting home in the kitchen, agonizing loudly about how hungry I was and lamenting the fact that we didn't have any food. Then my mom came in and, perhaps in an attempt to put my problems into perspective, told me about this house nearby that caught on fire and exploded and killed someone. Like that made me feel any better.
Then I started thinking about how it actually makes me really upset when I see other people upset. The same way yawns are contagious, I think sadness is contagious for me. Maybe it's that way for everyone, but I'm just particularly susceptible to it? Like, I read things that are so devastatingly despairing and I truly wish I could do something to help that person, but most of the time it's completely out of my control. We all have problems and we all have to get through them on our own. You can be offered advice and encouragement and all that but in the end the only person who truly knows what's best is you.
Anyway, a lot of people seem to be sad/stressed/upset/other negative emotions lately and I think it has rubbed off on me. So maybe this unhappiness of mine has snowballed to this point because it is not just my own unhappiness but the unhappiness of those around me which I have unwillingly collected.
Today at school, for instance, I was literally just like "let me die." I really did not want to be there and I'm sure I looked it, too. I imagine I looked a bit like Wednesday Addams, you know, the one who never smiles. And later I sat in the waiting room for guitar and for whatever reason, tears started to form in my eyes. I wiped them away and didn't cry, but I could not stop worrying and thinking about everything bad. Then when I got into my lesson and actually started playing, I was surprised by how quickly everything else slid away when I concentrated on the notes. I never thought I was one of those people who's like "music is my everything" and I guess I'm really not, but it has definitely become more of something these days.
While we're on the topic of music (tangent: Wow, I have done an uncharacteristically superb job of segueing from paragraph to paragraph in this post...just thought I'd point that out as my posts usually could be read in bullet points) my new favorite thing is 8tracks. I listened to a playlist that was just Mozart and wow, it made me so calm, not to mention how ~intellectual~ and ~sophisticated~ I felt. I have an account there now and I may or may not make any playlists soon, you never know.
Whew. If you read all of this...I love you. Unless you're a creep. In which case, go away.
P.S. Mayrose, if you are reading this, I will put up the pictures sometime this week, probably Friday.