Not A Fan

Maybe I'm not a fan of change. 
Perhaps it's just me.
Either way, I'm not convinced that I like (or dislike) this new blogger layout stuff.

We'll see.

I'm tired today.
I had McDonalds for lunch and am once again too tired to go grocery shopping in order to *make* something for dinner.  That, my Friends, is what is called LAZY.

Happy Lazy Monday!

Thing 17

Get a tattoo

Tattoos have always intrigued me. I never thought I'd actually get one, though. When my Mom passed away a few years ago I designed a tattoo that I would one day get. I still haven't gotten it.

In 2010 I visited my favorite tattoo artist's shop. I was like a kid in a candy store. I bought things, I sat on a couch made from a coffin, I stood inches away from people who were laying there getting tattooed, and I snapped a lot of pictures. It was the highlight of my road trip to California.

(This is me standing outside of High Voltage Tattoos, a.k.a. L.A. Ink in Hollywood, California)

Due to time crunches, my sister and I were unable to schedule tattoos. It was bittersweet.

Almost 2 years have passed since that road trip and the desire for a significant tattoo has not wained. And so, after loads of planning, searching, scribbling, and asking opinions, last night I finally went and got inked.

The reason tattoos captivate me is simply because I feel like each one can have such a story to tell. Sure there is the random person at the Fair who regrets that Tweety tattoo they got when they were 17, but overall I find that most of my friends who have tattoos have deep and powerful stories behind them; THAT is what I love.

My ink is near and very dear to my heart for so many reasons; many of which I will not pour out on the Internet for the world to know. Not now anyway. But in the end I chose a word that sums up my life. It sums up my relationship with God. And dearest of all...it's in my Mom's handwriting. I searched high and low to find this word written by her, and eventually there it was, nestled among pages of memories that she'd written me many years ago.

Everyday I can look at my arm and remember that I must walk by faith, that life on earth is temporary, but it's lived by FAITH! And everyday I get to see the writing of my Mom's; so unique, so beautiful, and so incredibly dear to my heart.

My tattoo isn't for the world to see, it's for me.

I love it.

Thing 16

Send a confession to Post Secrets.

To quote the wisest resource ever, Wikipedia, “PostSecret is an ongoing community mail art project, created by Frank Warren, in which people mail their secrets anonymously on a homemade postcard. Select secrets are then posted on the PostSecret website, or used for PostSecret's books or museum exhibits.”

I’ve followed this ongoing project for many years and even own one or two of their books.  I love it.  I think it’s a brilliant way of getting to the core of people.  I’ll admit, some of them disgust me, but at the same time some of them tug at my heart.  That’s part of it’s beauty, it’s messy, like life.

Tomorrow the mailman will take away 6 postcards I have created, along with the secrets or confessions I’ve attached, and they will make their way to Maryland.  Who knows who will see them, where they will stop along the way, or what will eventually happen to them.  What I do know is that I’ve done it.  I’ve exposed the depths of my soul on paper and sent it via snail mail to anyone who may find it.

Weird.

If you'd like to check out their website click here. 

(Be warned that it can be graphic or offensive at times.  Not all the time, but sometimes.)

Firsts...

I love the innocence of "firsts". First kisses... first crushes... first dates.  It doesn't matter how old you are, there's just something about them that brings you back to being really young. At least, that's what it does to me; back to the pre-teen days. Even chatting with my girl friends when they come home from dates is exciting to me. Times have changed, but first dates always make me feel romantically pulled back to the days of black and white movies, kisses at the drive-in, sweaty hands and all. Things I've never had but I highly romanticize in my mind.

This blogger is a sucker for romance. I won't lie. Give me a cheesy love story or a romantic comedy and I'm happy, within reason of course. That's why I fall so hard for Television shows where I relate to the girl who wants the guy but never really gets the guy. Or, if she does, it's fleeting. Welcome to my life. I'm just an Angela Chase pining over a Jordan Catalano that I'll never quite have...

That's a My So Called Life reference in case you missed it.

 

I am a hopeless romantic; one that knows that relationships take work and commitment.  I’m the girl who’s seen the worst in love and has set high standards for myself so that I will, hopefully, never have to “go there”.  As a result, I’m single, and perhaps doomed with it.

Even though I’m well out of the running for dating and marriage these days, I still daydream about it…

“And then, just like that they were kissing. She didn't know how they got there. She had no idea. The thought of kissing this boy hadn't crossed her mind in years, which was weird, because once upon a time, that was all she ever thought about. And then, just like that, it was over. He coughed, she shuffled her feet... And she laughed to herself. It had been one of those moments, one of those moments where you shuck your status as mere mortal and achieve, however briefly, true greatness. She had shared many such moments with this boy, but now he was leaving and... Nothing would ever be the same again.”

I suppose that’s what shows like Dawson’s Creek are for; hopeless romantics who like to look back on the days when life seemed like complicated mess of teenaged angst, hormones and awkwardness, but in reality…it was beautiful.  Messy, but beautiful just the same.

Gone are the days and nights of walking to the basketball courts, or the grocery store to see my crush play ball and bag groceries in his super cute work-enforced bow-tie.  Those Summer evenings of walking along side him while he walked his bike and we talked.  Endless conversations late at night while laying on the floor, attached to the phone by a spiral cord that easily wrapped around ones finger. 

Love is so much fun in the start, isn’t it?  What I wouldn’t give to go back to those days…

Another Lame Post

A lame post just might be better than no post at all.  I'm not entirely sure though.  Actually, I don't even have a theme to go off of today, so this may be the perfect opportunity to fall back on my old-school method of listing.

-  I have another cold.  This sucks.  This wacky weathered season-and-a-half have brought me more colds (and even a flu), than I care for.  1-2 a YEAR is my norm.  I've had a form of the flu, and at least 3 colds in the past 6 months.  Enough is enough!

-  My house was invaded by smaller plastic containers.  There was a sale on them at Menards and I leaped on it.  Now, we organize!

-  A co-worker of mine hates my haircut.  He hates that I have bangs, therefore, whenever he sees me rocking them he says "I hate your hair".  It's a little burst of sunshine (sarcasm heavily intended) in my cloudy day.

-  Archor Farms makes chips flavored "Grilled Cheese and Tomato".  They totally taste like creamy tomato soup.  I like them.

-  While at Target the other day, I bought a gigantic jug of cheese balls.  They aren't really even that great.  At any rate, they expire in May.  I said, "Hmm, they need to be gone by May huh?  I'll take that challenge!"  That is honestly the reason that I bought them.  Game on, cheese balls.

-  I ate my cheese balls out of a bowl, with a spoon, last night because I didn't want to dirty my hands.

-  Walgreens, I'm coming for you.  I need Nyquil and I know you've got it.


That'll do pig.