i, l, k, j, and o while I still can

Some things cannot be put into words. For everything else, there's this blog.

Let's try that again. (1)

Some things cannot be adequately described in words; to understand any of this, you'd probably need to know at least a little about me--enough to recognize a Strongbad quote, forgive me for using the occasional "damn," or realize why a turkey curry buffet is so damn funny. But who am I to say whether any of this could mean anything to anyone but me and the few, the proud, the friends? I miss my friends. (2)

Rundown: SWF, brown hair, Christian, far more intelligent than is necessary to lead a normal life, far less motivated than is necessary to lead a normal life, watching too much television as of late and as a consequence I can feel my brain rotting inside of my head, generally too attracted to men in general, an impossible combination of cynical and optimist/idealist which is adding headache to brain rot.

I am a romantic who is, as though plotting her own Julia Roberts movie, determined to not believe in love anymore--or at least as long as it takes for Prince Charming to waltz in and move the plot forward. Except not Julia Roberts... I would definitely be Bridget Jones.

Oh where, oh where has my Mark Darcy gone? Oh where, oh where can he be? (3)

You will, of course, be kept up on all that boy nonsense that spices up my life. But there will be other tales, oh yes... tales of glory and sacrifice, of honor and betrayal, of hair dyes and stilettos. Ok, not very many stilettos. I'm eclectic, not insane. (4) I will be honest about my idiocy, vulnerable, snarky, all the things you love about me. I hope I'll write more about love than anything... hope. Can't promise anything.

The keys on my laptop intermittently blank out because I spilled a glass of water on it two weeks ago. So far, I've lost and found: i, l, k, j, and o. I only use my pointer and middle fingers of my right hand when I type, which I've been mocked for before (you know who you are, Faith), but it's because of a fateful program malfunction in 6th grade typing class which gave me a D+ in the class and crippled my style forever. I mean, distinguished my style.

I would like to sing in a band. It's turning into the only thing I can think about. I sing in the car instead of listening to the radio, or I sing along with the radio. I sneak away from my desk at work and go sing in the bathroom when no one is there. I sing quietly at my desk and I'm sure I will eventually start belting loudly in a crucial slip of couth and tact. People should be worried about me at this point.

I just love to sing. I'm not even that great--but if you sing a lot your voice does improve and I'm not terrible. My band would never make it anywhere, but who the heck cares. I don't need fame or fortune. But my insides are bursting and I don't know how to relieve the pressure, if I can't sing. What else, what else can I possible do? Writing helps.

Anyway. A quick rundown of the Men in My Life (with the ever-popular Pseudonyms of Fun and Mystery!):

-Aladdin--friendly boy-next-door turned passionate love interest, a huge conflict because we are perfect for each other except for the tiny insignificantly essential fact that he is Muslim and I am a Christian, and I don't missionary-date. I definitely missionary-befriend, however. But I'm struggling with missionary-wanting-to-kiss-him, which is probably not a real missionary thing and should be avoided. Sigh.

-Fish Guy-this is a nickname from my previous blog (which I deleted in a frenzy of life renewal that did not, in fact, get my the guy, drop 20 lbs off my body, or get me into grad school. So much for my damn renewal plan.) and a young man I might call a Person of Interest. POI. Meaning he's interesting, and a good friend, and causing all sorts of internal conflicts for me. Goodness gracious, if men knew the effect they have on me with even a few words, they'd certainly abuse their power. So it's a good thing they don't! Also he's really hot.

-Jimmy--the ubiquitous Perfect Man to whom I feel no attraction whatsoever. Also he kept touching my leg and trying to snuggle, which, ichhhhh. Ok, not so perfect. But at least well-meaning, and an easy fall-back should I decide to play it safe instead of betting it all on the chance that someone magical will come along. Poor guy... I hate to call him that. I don't deserve him. But he's not The One, or even A One of the Ones. Because I'm all about the Ones. (6)

-Dad--this is an ironic one because he's only in my life in my head, not in real life. More on that later. Also not a pseudonym.

- Chuck--no pseudonym needed as he is not a real person. He is a character on the television show with his name, and he is wonderful. Except he needs to grow as a character... I would like to see him stop being a wuss and kick some ass. Otherwise, he is awesome.

-Jim--again, no pseudonym. From the Office. Enough said.

AAAAH. Most of the men in my life are fictional or only in my head! Ok, there are more:

-Bruce--guy from work who is nice but about two feet shorter than me. Also has a girlfriend. But at least he's male and under the age of 30.

I live a sad life. (7) Hey Mr. Love... what a good song.

More to come on the fantastic wonderful women in my life next time: Jamie, Elizabeth, Celeste, sisters one and two, Mom, Cari and Angie, Song, Leah, and many more! Right now I have to go to sleep so I can work at 7 tomorrow morning in my cafe. Which is wonderful. And it's on, hey you guessed it, Grand Ave. (8)

Good night. I love you, and I'll try to love you better.



Soundtrack:
1. "Girlfriend" Avril Lavigne
2. "Learn to Fly" Foo Fighters
3. "Breakout" Foo Fighters
4. "Grand Theft Autumn" Fall Out Boy
5. "Sugar We're Going Down" Fall Out Boy
6. "The New Cancer" Panic! at the Disco
7. "More Than Melody" Anna Nalick
8. "Dreaming With A Broken Heart" John Mayer
(the phrase: "She's, like, so, whatever..." -Avril Lavigne. Oh Avril, who knew what a poet you were?)