There Was A Point To This, I Swear...

So, I'm tired of being depressing.

I think my lack of a decent non-vampire sleeping schedule is the problem (not that there is anything wrong with vampires, I love them, I used to want to be one, but right now I like the image of me, older, dewy grass and gardening and making a home and baking love and such. I know, I'm sentimental.).

So I went to sleep around 9:41 last night, and woke up at 6:32 this morning! Yes!!

And as of now it's 7:40.

Let me tell you all something--I am not a breakfast person.

I adore mornings, but breakfast? Not so much. I just don't feel like opening my big fat mouth to absorb things before noon. Now, don't get me wrong--I love breakfast foods. Just not at breakfast time. That's why some of my favorite dinners were when mom mixed it up and we had "Breakfast for Dinner" nights.

Now, when I was younger, my family used to have breakfast together pretty regularly and it was a big cooking bonanza deal, with dad blaring Larry Norman or the Beatles or CCR or whatever else he felt like that morning. Mom would be chopping the potatoes for home fries, while also whisking up some eggs and frying bacon and then using the grease from the bacon to make gravy and putting biscuits in the oven and do not come in here it is a warzone just let me cook in peace!!! being screa--I mean. Being said every few minutes. Sternly.

Don't judge her on that, though. You'd do it too if you had five kids to feed and a husband who blared random oldies throughout the entire house.

Anyway, it wasn't that bad, but it was busy and loud and of course us kids would set the table and get everyone up and help with the biscuits. It was great.

So those types of breakfasts I can do.

I realize, of course, that for the past five or eight years I've been ignoring the mantra that is forcibly pushed on every schoolchild in America--Breakfast is the most important meal of the day.

And Rachel Ray says that you should eat like a king for breakfast, a queen for lunch (no, that wasn't a gay joke. It could be. I do have "hagging rights" but I don't use them. Much. Anyway.), and a pauper for dinner. It's a good formula. I should use it.

But I just don't. Rather, I haven't. Starting today (yes, today), I am a new woman. I am accomplished. I am happy. I am striving to be more than what I am.

Today, I have goals.

Today, I will have pancakes.

Oatmeal Cookie Pancakes.

At first I figured we just couldn't do that because we need buttermilk and raisins and I'm at my grandparents house so while I know they have 32446313424 baking materials, I got on good word from a source that we don't have either of those ingredients so I was bummed for like two seconds.

But I told that source about this recipe and showed her it, and she (okay I will admit that the source is just my grandmother) agreed that we must do this now.

Did you know that buttermilk is just milk and a little bit of vinegar? Crazy.

This also means that I can make my snickerdoodles.

Rejoice to the Morning Gods, the Baking Gods, and that feeling you get at the start of something new.

Shlickyshlickyshwack

My favorite word when I was fifteen was "sublime." I hadn't heard of the band yet, because I was still very CCM, but I probably would have been obsessed with them if I had.

There's something about being a freaky eccentric non-Taylor-Swift fifteen year old that makes you emotional, stoic, and very into the dark and mysterious world of words and poetry and tragedy. Yes. You are both emotional and stoic.

It's circumstantial.

So there we are.

When I was sixteen I had moved to a new state and was still very "into" vampires. Ohhhh yes. I was/am a Twilight person. Anyway, because I loved vampires I would wear my black and red rockstar clothes with my hair all crazy and awesome, and dark rings of eyeliner with bright red lipstick.

Like two weeks later girls started to do the eyeliner/bright-red-lipstick thing. Copying? Maybe. Was I a narcissistic bitch about it? A little.

When I was ten I was a severe Christian who hated Halloween and anything not God-related.

I'll be twenty in August.

I expect I'll love throwing outfits together and wearing clunky random jewelry and throwing my hair up in different decades. And I'll be writing, and watching (not to sound like a creepy stalker or anything). I think that I'd like to go to Italy or France next year. Africa is still a definite destination. And I'm coming to love Spain too.

I don't know what this post is about, really.

LOL, FER SHERIOUS YO.

This is Big

This is huge. Gargantuan.

I'm torn into so many pieces right now, but all of my pieces are racing towards the same finish line. I need help, I need people to be charitable, and I need answers, but I have it. I've got it. I can see it, I can see the buzz it creates, I can understand how it affects others. I'm both praying for a kind, wiser soul than mine to help guide me, and that no one finds out about it. But I know that this is such a good thing that I don't care how it gets created, just that it exists. So kind, wise soul, if you want to take this idea and mold it into something greater than my vision, do so. Because it's for good, and although I have realism in my scope, I love the idea of this big, huge, gargantuan blob of greatness taking form with smiles and ease and love from a community.

I know it's going to be hard and I'll have to work for it harder than I've ever worked (which isn't saying much because I was always lazy), harder than I've ever imagined I could work, but I'm going to do it. This isn't a passing fancy. This is what I was put here to do, I know it.

It's that same knowledge that leads a couple to stay a couple, they just know deep down in their core that they're meant to be together, at least for now.

I want to hear positive feedback. I want to hear people agreeing with me. I want this to come together smoothly. I want people to love it. I want people to volunteer for it. I want people to ask for it.

Asking for help is not a sign of weakness, especially if your children are involved. It's a sign of bravery, of strength, and it's a sign of how intelligent you really are.

I would go into detail, but that piece that's scared to death of someone jinxing it is overruling.

Just know that this is huge, and it's going to happen, despite the frowns and jeering laughs that I always hear. I'm positive on more than just that this will happen. I'm positive it will change the world.

I Figured It Out

"It" the elusive, misguided, horribly disfigured "it" is now clear. Controlled. Figured. Out.

For years I've been struggling with a decision in my life. This decision is huge, will affect me forever more.

And I finally made up my mind.

In the back of my head, I've always leaned on this, though I equally dismissed it as something that "wasn't right for me."

And actually, it's pretty perfect for me. So, without further ado, I tell you all (hi, handful! Keep reading!) what decision this is.

I have decided what the heck I'm going to do with my life. I know exactly what career I will have.

Am I telling you all what this is? No, because I've got to think and meditate on it all a bit more. Interview some people.

But I feel like everything is finally pulling itself together for me!

1--Uncertain

This road thing? It can be taken however you want. But my road is chilling in a random straw hut with a coconut drink or wiping the sweat from my dusty brow somewhere in Texas or walking through a small town where the signs advertising old little businesses are half disintegrated on brick building walls due to the new Walmart Supercenter.

My road is me, alone, being someone and picking up odd jobs to put food in my belly. I want to visit a small town and fall in love with a tiny cottage and live there for a year or two, painting and drinking lemonade on my little back porch.

I want my hair to grow back out to it's original blonde, long and in a million tiny braids like it used to be. I want my tattoos and piercings to tell a story.

I want to make friends all over this place.

And then I want to go to another country and do it all there, with those cultures and people.

Too bad you can't make money on that.

I'm young. I'm 19 as of August 2009, and I have a list of inadequacies that hinder me from talking about myself to strangers. But this is my blog where I tell all, so here goes.

1) I don't even have my permit yet. I'm almost twenty and unlike every other teenager in America, I didn't have an aching desire to jump behind the wheel as soon as I hit 15. That changes in about a week, when I become fully confident in road signage. I kind of need a license and car in order to fulfill my dreams.

2) I didn't graduate with my class. There was this senior project thing and I was never good with deadlines so I didn't turn in my research paper which meant I couldn't present my project which means I had to take summer school and there isn't a picture of me shaking the principal's hand onstage in my cap and gown. It says May 31 on the diploma, but I really graduated in July.

3) I've had exactly one job. I worked at McDonald's on Marlin Drive in Greenwood, IN for seven months, and when that had to be rebuilt I was transfered to the one a mile or two from my house and it sucked there so two months later I quit. That, however, is not the only reason I quit. Anyway. One fast food job, I wonder how that will look on my resume...

4) I'm not in college. I've been out of high school for two years (one and a half but I round up) and I'm just now seriously considering college. But I still don't really know what to do. Well. I know what I want to do but it doesn't particularly use much of a degree to do it and also the pay really sucks.

5) I never went to prom. I kinda wanted to, but at the same time, I didn't. I'd only known these people for two years because we moved from SC to IN my junior year, and honestly I'm not much of a prom-type person. I'm a ballgown person, I'm a dancing person, but I'm not a...prom person. I know that makes sense. Anyway, everyone tells me that I'll regret it, and that hasn't happened yet but I suspect one day I'll wake up with a rock of dread sitting in my stomach and realize that yes, I skipped prom, and yes, I do regret it all. My life would be so much better if I went to prom.

More things that make me weird/a bad person

(aka Things That Make Me Sound Depressing In My First Blog Post):

1)I'm a terrible friend. I don't really keep great contact with people because (and I know, this is horrible) I forget about them. Really. It's not that they aren't important, I just don't have that innate sense of keeping up with friends that most girls my age have.

2) I like being single. I know, weird.

3) I'm a total dork (not a whale penis, the other meaning). I love the geeky stuff, minus WoW and technological knowledge. I dork out over books and things.

4) I. Adore. Books. That's actually something I really like about myself, but it may seem weird to you, like it was to all my peers in high school.

5) I once belonged to Dork Club.

6) I wanted to become a director. Stage or film. But I lost interest in that after a while.

7) I made a terrible zombie movie.

8)I'm usually very indecisive. Lately I've been really trying not to be, because that hasn't gotten me anywhere so far.

9) As of this moment, I've been awake for twenty-two hours and sixteen minutes.

So there we are.

Tune in later when I talk about making my dreams come true and my shameless self-advertising of this blog so I have a semi-steady income.