Indecisive Peach

Sweet mother of pearl am I glad that NaBloPoMo is over. It was more worry and stress than I really needed. I think it might have only been cathartic maybe once or twice.

Like this post: I’ve been dreading the need to write this all day. I’m just tired of having something I enjoy become negative.

10. There is a dog snoring contentedly not four feet away from me.

9. I never thought I’d say I’m thankful for a ticket to Amarillo, but there we are.

8. There is only one more disappointing fun class to go.

7. My turkey wasn’t too dry.

6. I have great water pressure in the shower. [It's the little things.]

5. I can stand in the before-mentioned shower and feel everything in my body is in working order.

4. Everyone I know and love can say roughly the same.

3. Even though most are are flights away, I have dear family and friends.

2. They all put up with me.

1. Thus, I have hope for the future.

Those desperately curious about my whining and verbal schlepping of myself around 15-year-old style and who are new to the case files of firewings vs. HWSNBN – your day has come.

Those of your that are desperately waiting for me to either post something insightful, funny, or a cop-out picture of a homemade lolcat will have to wait. Join me tomorrow for the second annual Thanksgiving photoblogging and stay tuned to see if I chose to make my own stuffing or if I wimp out because I bought of box of it.

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Sometimes I just need: to take stock of the breaths I take.
Sometimes I want: to scream the soul out of my body.

Sometimes I like to: eat nice breakfast burrito.
Sometimes all it takes: is to leave me alone yet just offer advice I most likely will not take.

Sometimes I picture: the future.
Sometimes I wish: the present wouldn’t seem so static and yet paradoxically unstable.

Sometimes I find: glimpses of myself.

Sometimes I take: the last cookie.
Sometimes I look: at things at a whole different level than others.

Sometimes I hate: the fact that I have l loved in a void.
Sometimes it’s nice: to be tagged by the cat who reminds me to be playful.

Sometimes it hurts: to know that I love someone that doesn’t love me.
Sometimes it makes me happy: to find words that work.

Sometimes it’s sad: that I haven’t gotten to the stage where I don’t blame myself for wasting time.

Sometimes I listen: to J play video games and am comforted.
Sometimes I sleep: next to J as he plays video games because it is that comfortable.

Sometimes I like to watch: how people express themselves with their hands.

Sometimes I feel: a little like kicking my feet against the dirt.
Sometimes I rant: needlessly.

Sometimes I never: connect.
Sometimes I really: want to.

Found at The Suburban Gypsy.

A probing mind last night wanted to know where I wanted to see myself in five years, which induced a frayed mumbling about broken hopes. She interupted me with a detour, “And now it’s time to stop shopping at Wal-Mart and starting shopping at Saks Fifth Avenue.”

I burst out laughing. She continued, “Well at least Wet Seal or Hot Topic.”

“If we’re comparing stores, I think the materialization of the former would be even less willing to have children with me and to boot would be wanting steal my shoes and underwear. As for the latter, I’m entirely too old to be competing for styling tools with a man who wears skinnier pants than I do,” I said.

Laughing she replied, “How about a solid and easy purchase from Amazon.com?”

I remarked that it worked well with a friend we know, who met her Army husband online, to which my friend laughed and said, “But she wound up with government property!”

I considered this, “You know, that is totally the right idea though, I need a man MRE.”

Am I the only one that reads and thinks along as if you were having a conversation with the writer?

From reading an article from the Today Show website titled, “Just dating him in the meantime? Don’t!“:

I hear it all the time: “I’m just dating him in the meantime.”

I believe I called it killing time. *cough*

It reminds me of something Pablo Picasso said to aspiring artists: “Never take a part-time job because it will become your full-time life.”

Wasn’t Picasso a rather poor role model for relationships?

Dating “in the meantime” is based on the belief that time is infinite. But in reality, “in the meantime” is wasted time, which means missed opportunities. [...]Well, someday just arrived. Someday is right now; it’s realizing that you’ve possibly lowered your standards and settled into a pattern of diminished expectations.

Someday is now! Yeeeeah! *lackluster fist pump* But Article, I’ve been told about my standards, now you too? You don’t know me.

Are you afraid of you?

…No? Should I be? Should I worry that I am? Am I? Oh heavenstoBetsymaybeIjustdon’t…

Wait. Just. A. Tick. There you go with your reverse psychological mambo jumbo. I like me and I don’t have to convince you…but I saw what you did and I appreciate your effort.

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