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Biding my time. February 11, 2006

Posted by brianna in Verbosity.

So I find myself typing in this thing after the white boxes have gone away and I no longer feel like listening to silly music and I’m sitting on my bed wrapped in an (acrylic, sigh) afghan nursing a cat scratch and being lonely.

Poor little me, all alone on a Friday night.

I do have a delicious no bake dessert, but am burnt out on sweetness and now crave salty things…but lack motivation to actually go downstairs and make something. Or, even, reheat something.

I poured an entire quart of milk down the drain last night. An /entire quart/. And this horrifies me…I bought something, used exactly two bowls of cereal’s worth, and then…threw it away. How wasteful am I? This is another reason I like buying organic milk. Yes, it is good for the environment and me and the cows…but it’s also super-pasturized and will last about a month. Now, I can drink that much milk in a month while I absolutely cannot go through that much in the week to ten days regular milk gives me. In the end – I actually /save money/ by spending twice as much! Bizzare…but actually using what you buy is a good thing.

This is why I love yarn. Does yarn ever go bad? No.

Hm. I have this lovely thought bouncing around about environmentalism. Now, I am pretty much wholey uninformed. I am by no means an expert. But it seems like this great ‘green push’ we are belatedly endorsing relies entirely too much on the end user. Recycling is, indeed, good, but wouldn’t it be better if we could get manufacturers to use less packaging in the first place? Certainly it’s better to not buy paper plates and use only real dishes that can be rewashed…but then you end up having boxes of unused paper plates stacked somewhere. The trees are dead already. Now we’re just throwing things away without using them on principle. True, driving less is fantastic…but if we enforced higher minimums for MPG and actually installed good public transportation, life would be much simpler. I really, really wish we had a national train system. Wouldn’t that be fantastic? Instead of spending huge amounts of money on gas while flying or driving a thousand miles to see Grandma…you just take the train to the nearest major city, then take a bus to the town. I would be all over that. People are unbelievably lazy…make it easier on people to do ‘green’ things by starting the green at the manufacturing plant, and the whole world smiles a happy smile.

My mind is such a weird, idealized place sometimes (Uhhhh…Brianna? Sometimes?). Everything turns out happily ever after, and my daydreams are not insane, impossible, and improbable. I will live happily ever after with darling children who speak many languages and program innovative educational programs at twelve! My husband will never look at other women the way he looks at me and is always excited to hear from me! I will actually have a husband! And highspeed internet access, and my favorite songs are always on the radio…and I am happy.

Hell, I’ll settle for ‘content’.

Well…no, I suppose the ‘sometimes’ is entirely accurate, because the other times, my mind is busy undermining any source of happiness I might experience. That boy is only talking to me because I’m there and says the same sorts of things to whomever he comes across, and will never see me and my cat who was sick will actually die on me and I will be heartbroken. My car will never be fixed and will die on my way to Florida for my next job which will suck and noone will like me. My parents will put me in the middle of their divorce and both will end up hating me, and I will drift through life accomplishing nothing meaningful and will die alone and unloved after building impenetrable walls around myself and my cats will have no food and will also die horrible deaths.

You see what I have to put up with? But…doesn’t everyone swing from ‘euphorically optimistic’ to ‘trying to be ‘realistic’ but actually being so pessemistic that Baby Jesus will cry while reading your mind’? I try to avoid thinking of myself as ‘special’ or ‘so unique your mind will explode after talking to me you will be so excited’. ‘Weird’ is the new ‘pretty’ and it drives me completely bonkers. Christ. And, what kills me – usually you see it on a place like MySpace from a seventeen year old girl named ‘Brittsparkle99’ who refuses to wear anything but Hollister and AE and giggles ‘I am the weirdest person you will ever meet! Tee hee! My friends are always going ‘Britt, you are so strange!’. And here I am banging my head against something (not my keyboard, can’t hurt the laptop), going ‘You cannot be ‘weird’ if your identity stems from what brand of clothing you own! AUGHHH!’. I mean…to me, a ‘weird’ girl is someone who will only wear red and works as a bartender at night to fund her breadbaking business during the day, sings showtunes competitively and refuses to talk to anyone with red hair or purple clothing. And that isn’t even really ‘weird’, it’s more ‘crazy eccentric and not really possible’ (if you are this person, please email me), and don’t we all have our little peculiar traits? It doesn’t make us ‘more’ or ‘so’ or ‘extremely’ anything…we are all sort of equally odd, pulling together as one.

And then the ‘realist’ bit of my mind sneaks in and tells me the reason this bothers me so much is because I secretly believe I /am/ ‘unique’ and ‘my own special snowflake’, and I then spend extensive periods of time closely examining this to convince myself it isn’t true. Kill me now. (No, not really, death is an absolutely terrifying concept. I mean…where will I go? What is the point of thinking things if it will all go away? Sometimes I really wish I still had religion).

Brianna chases the tail of her mind in circles.

And even that doesn’t make sense.


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