i ate your soul

there is another life that i could be living (would like to be living?). i feel as though there are two contradictory impulses inside of me regarding what path my life takes, and as it stands it is (clearly) the academic impulse that has taken precedence. i want to be in school. i want to learn shit and do something meaningful with my life. that's the life i'm living/heading toward at the moment. so what's this other life look like? well, for starters, i do makeup. i love makeup. not that this is in any way apparent considering that i've only worn the stuff once in the last three months. but right now i don't live in a makeup conducive or makeup necessary life. so makeup. that's what i do in my other life. and of course i wear it all the time and maybe i dabble a bit in hair styling, or at the very least i learn some really sweet ways of doing my own hair (yeeeeah). i also wear sweet-ass clothes and shoes. in this life i spend at least a couple of hours every day getting ready (as opposed to my current m.o. of oh shit the bus is outside in five minutes where are my jeans and oh god this coat doesn't match my shoes but fuck my other coat is dirty and shit i'm out of time 30 seconds ago where the fuck is my backpack?).

i also live somewhere else, probably seattle or portland, maybe los angeles if i landed a job as a celebrity makeup artist, but definitely somewhere with a zipcode that begins in 9. i'd go to all the good clubs and shows and be friends with a bunch of bands and scenesters. and i would dance. i would be dancing all the time. that's what would make me happy. i'd still be working my ass off and probably running myself into the ground to keep shit going (although in a different way than i do here), but i would party equally as hard. and dance. it's not really the partying that's important, it's the dancing. and i'd be cool. not smart, not rich (necessarily), not useful to the world, but cool.

so, makeup and dancing. that's what my life is missing.

teh internets

i wish someone would ban me from the internet. my eyes are blurry from staring at this godforsaken safari screen for i don't know how many hours. and, needless to say, my time here has not been productive. i don't even care about celebrity gossip, for instance, or jenna jameson, but somehow i became sucked into link after link of pictures, articles, videos, etc (videos as in interviews and such, not porn i swear). although this romp into the vast expanse of nothingness that exists online was not in any way, shape, or form enlightening (perhaps even the opposite), it did remind me of a couple of things i have been wondering lately:

1. why do people say that kim kardashian is fat? (i won't even approach the question "why is she famous," considering that more than half of contemporary celebrities are famous for no apparent reason.) i realize that she is not overly skinny and that she does not fit the current ideal of anorexia, but after browsing through many pictures (and i mean many), i cannot really see how anyone could think that she's actually fat. say she's a whore and a slut, okay, i'll buy that. but overweight? i just don't see it.

2. what the fuck happened to jenna jameson? clearly, plastic surgery is what happened. but really? she looks like a robot. or an alien. whatever it is, she doesn't look like herself. and she's not even that old; i'm pretty sure the aging process hadn't set in enough to justify mutilating her face with a surgeon's knife. this of course leads to a long-standing query i have about plastic surgery in general, namely why? boobs are a no-brainer. i get that. not that i'd ever do it myself, but i totally understand wanting bigger boobs, especially for women who have small ones to begin with. but facial reconstruction? unless you're cyrano de bergerac, i can't understand why people would want to change their faces. it never looks good. even lip pumping, which seems similar in concept to boob jobs, always ends up looking awful and unnatural.

i know i'm not the best candidate for saying this, but i wish someone would make some kind of magic reality mirror. it seems like people either think they look way uglier than they actually do, or they think they're hottie mchotterson when they're only marginally attractive. same goes for clothing. i sometimes wish i could stop people on the street and ask them if they actually looked in the mirror before they left the house. this doesn't count for people wearing sweats or other i-slept-through-my-alarm-and-had-10-minutes-to-get-to-class type of clothing, only for those people who clearly put effort into their outfit, but missed the mark by a lot. this is especially prevalent when new trends come into fashion, and everyone is rushing to get on the bandwagon. only they didn't stop to check whether that particular trend looks good on their particular bodies. hence people with a little too much midriff wearing short-ish tops. or people with short legs wearing long shirts. or people with big hips wearing "skinny" jeans.

okay, i'm done hatin'. for now.

i'm a big fat vagina

or at least that's what ben tells me. regardless of what you want to call it, i do know that i am far too easily scared. case in point: last night we watched the movie zodiac, about the "zodiac killer" in california in the 60's and 70's. this is by far the least scary movie about a murderer/serial killer that i've ever seen. in fact, most normal people would probably not even use the word "scary" anywhere in a description of the movie. i, on the other hand, was quite upset by the time the movie ended. so upset that i was either awake thinking about serial killers or dreaming about them for the entire night. it did not help that for some reason in our over-tired stumble to bed (the movie was nearly 3 hours long) ben and i managed to switch bed spots, leaving me on the side closest to the window (which is also closest to all the unknown serial killers of the world). sometime around 4 am i made the sleeping boy switch back with me 'cause i couldn't handle it anymore. i guess ben's right. i'm just a big vagina.


p.s. i realized this evening that the absence of state income tax is just another reason (on a long, long list of reasons) why i love washington more than wisconsin.

did i mention that i'm better than you?

'cause i am. really. let's recap: yesterday, i went to class (late, of course). came home (instead of going to the gym). watched some newsradio (only a couple episodes, self, i swear. then you can read dickens). became overwhelmingly tired at about 3pm and proceeded to sleep (with a couple of interruptions) basically until 9am this morning. felt so depressed and guilty about doing nothing yesterday that i skipped class to read the shit i could have finished yesterday. thought about going for a run, but then it started raining and i convinced myself that i didn't feel like it (even though i love running while it's raining). i also have yet to do any real work on my seminar papers.

god help me (i don't believe in god).